Page 74 of Bossy Bodyguard

“How are you feeling?” Damon asked, not even meeting my eyes.

I scoffed, but it hurt my lungs, making me wince. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Cillian take a step and retreat when I straightened up. “I’m great. As you can see.”

“Cillian,” Damon looked at him. “Give us a few minutes.”

He stared at him for a few moments. It was a weird man-to-man telepathic connection, and then he walked out of the room without saying a word or looking at me.

Jesus, did I look that horrible?

“I’m sorry.”

My eyes widened when I looked at my brother. His gray eyes were on me and without the small glimmer of sadness in them, he looked cold as ice. “You’re what?”

“I…” He took a sharp breath and looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“For these past few months. No… not just months. For everything.”

I swallowed, but my mouth was dry. I turned to pick up a glass of water and winced at the sudden burst of pain from my legs and right hand. Damon stood up, poured me water, and handed the glass to me.

“Doctor said you’re fine. Your hand will heal in a few days, and you have a few bruises on your legs from the window, but they will also heal.”

“Okay.” I emptied the glass of water, licking my lips, and kept it on the nightstand. Tension and an air of confusion hovered between us, our silence stretching.

“What is everything?”

“Hm?” He raised his head to look at me once again.

I repeated. “What ‘everything’ are you apologizing for?”

“Do I have to say it?”

I glared at him. “Yes, you fucking do.”

“Emma.”

“Don’t you dare Emma me right now,” I pursed my lips, my headache getting worse, and took a deep breath. “I have had enough, okay? I’m tired of your constant bullying and scolding and do this, do that, you’re young, you’re an adult and whatnot. I’m tired. So please leave.”

“Look, I was stupid. I was an arrogant idiot who was angry when our parents split up,” Damon said, meeting my eyes. “I was a kid and blamed it on you. I grew up and kept blaming it on you because at least mother gave you attention. Dad left me on my own—kicked me out and told me to make my own life. I didn’t...” He took a deep breath and looked down. “I never thought that you were hurting, too. I stopped caring and—I’m sorry, Emma. For not being there when you needed me and for being a terrible brother.”

My lips parted, but I couldn’t say anything. I watched him with gleaming eyes as he raked his hand over his dirty blond hair and stood up. “Even now. I can’t protect you from a fucking stalker.”

“Damon…” I bit my lip. “If you want me to forgive you, you have to do something.”

His stormy gray eyes were clear for the first time in many years. It reminded me of the brother I had who’d play hide and seek with me and stick gum in my hair. “Anything,” he said, his hands clenched at his sides.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I want you to take over the makeup business. I still have school to finish and need to focus on my studies. Maybe I can help more once I've graduated, but for now, I don't think I can handle both responsibilities. Do you think you could do that?”

His eyes widened, taking in what I had just said. Damon nodded, “Absolutely. I don't know much about cosmetics, but I do know how to run a business.” He sat on the edge of the bed to discuss the plan in a bit more detail.

I could feel him relaxing and the bond between us restoring as we spoke.

It had been two days since the accident and Cillian was acting weird. He wouldn’t look at me for over five seconds (yes, I counted) and answered one-word replies in a monotonous voice. He was acting like a wall of brick and kept his face poker whenever I was around, despite catching him smiling at one of Zayed’s lame jokes.

“When can I go to school?” I asked Mrs. Karen when she helped me put on the bandage on my right palm. The doctor had discharged me and Zayed since neither of us had any serious injuries. Zayed was living with Elena in one of their penthouses and they both had strict securities with over twenty guards surrounding them since the accident.

I felt bad that he got hurt because of me, but he said, and I quote, “It felt good to use the dagger after so long.” Yep. He was still a weirdo.

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