Page 32 of My Bodyguard Neighbor
Holly's hand tightened on the phone."Is it?Or is it about proving you're right?About showing everyone, including me, that you can't be controlled?"
Silence on the other end.
"I warned you," Holly said."What you do with that information is your choice.But don't pretend this is about principle.You've spent your entire career controlling everyone around you.Maybe this is just the one thing you can't control, and you can't stand it."
"Holly—"
"I hope you don't die tomorrow.I really do.But if you do, don't expect me to pretend you were some kind of martyr.You're just a stubborn old man who can't admit when he's wrong."
She hung up before he could respond.
Jonah studied her face."You okay?"
"No."Holly set the phone down."But I did what I needed to do.The rest is on him."
"For what it's worth, you were right.About all of it."
Holly looked at him."You think he'll postpone?"
"No.Men like your father don't bend.They break."Jonah moved closer, his hand finding her knee through the sheet."But you did the right thing.You gave him the information.What he does with it is his responsibility, not yours."
Holly leaned against him, her head on his shoulder.They sat like that for a while, neither speaking.Outside, morning traffic began to pick up.Normal people going to normal jobs, living normal lives.
"What happens now?"Holly asked finally.
"Now we wait.Blake and the others are coordinating with courthouse security.The FBI has a tactical team on standby.Your father will have more protection tomorrow than the President."
"And us?"
"We stay here.Let them handle it."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not making me argue about it.For not trying to be in the middle of the action."She traced the line of his jaw with her fingers."For choosing me."
Jonah caught her hand, pressed his lips to her palm."Always."
They spent the rest of the morning in the motel room.After dropping off their prisoners to the authorities, Blake brought back food around noon.Coffee and sandwiches from a diner down the road.They ate mostly in silence, the weight of tomorrow hanging over them.
Holly pulled out her sketchpad in the afternoon.Jonah was fascinated by the way her hand moved across the paper.Quick, confident strokes that gradually took shape.
It was him.
Not the version of himself he saw in the mirror.This was someone softer.The hard edges were still there, but she'd captured something in his expression that made him look almost human.Almost worthy of the way she looked at him.
"Is that how you see me?"he asked.
Holly glanced up, then back at the sketch."That's who you are.Under all the training and the violence and the guilt.That's the man who brought me coffee and quit his job because I said no."
Jonah didn't know what to say to that.He'd spent twelve years being a weapon.Two years trying to be something else and failing.And now this woman was showing him a version of himself he didn't recognize.
"I'm scared," Holly said, still drawing."Not of the Popovs anymore.Of what happens after tomorrow."
"What do you mean?"
"This whole relationship has been about crisis.Running, hiding, life-or-death situations."She set down her pencil."What if this was just trauma bonding?What if when things go back to normal, we realize we don't actually work?"
