Page 20 of Bossy Bodyguard

I rushed out of the washroom and covered myself in a robe, eyeing my room, the closed closets, and quickly I dialed nine-one-one.

Maybe… just maybe, Damon was right. I was roofied.

13

SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP

CILLIAN

“So, whose party was it?” I asked, changing the gear and taking a turn while Caleb kept looking out of the window. I could smell the weed and beer on him. His eyes were bloodshot, hair ruffled, and he was still wearing the suit he had worn that morning.

“Don’t know.” He shrugged, not sparing me a glance. “I just went there to get high.”

My jaw clenched. “And where’s your car?”

“At E—” He stopped whatever he was saying and straightened up. “It’s safe. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

God, how fucking hard is it to have a conversation with my own son?

“Where were you?” he asked, flickering his eyes at me for a moment. “You shaved and dressed up. Date?”

“No,” I scoffed, tugging at the collar of my shirt. “I was at a club. I’m too old to date someone.” Definitely too old for someone like Emma. I thought bitterly.

He stayed quiet for a moment, staring at his lap before whispering, “Mom would’ve liked you to be happy.”

My hand loosened on the steering wheel as I blinked at the road. Clearing my throat, I said, “I’m happy.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

He just had to bring Olivia up.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I changed the subject. “How’s your girlfriend doing?” I asked. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the funeral this morning.”

Caleb scoffed, running a hand through his dark hair. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

I frowned, knowing that he was in a relationship with her for the longest time. Even though he never told me her name or brought her home for dinner, even after I asked him several times, I knew he liked her. Maybe even more than like. “What happened? Did you guys break up?”

“Yeah, kind of,” he shrugged. “I fucked up, and she’d rather skin me alive than talk to me.”

I winced. “Sounds sweet.”

Glancing at him, I noticed how his shoulders were slumped, his eyes glazed. I clearly didn’t want to talk to him about his recent breakup while he was high as a kite, but these days, we rarely saw each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His brown eyes slid towards me and he let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Now you want to play Dad. It’s a bit too late, don’t you think so?”

His tone made me furious yet guilty, remorse making me feel shittier than I already was. I knew I wasn’t there when he needed me, but I had tried. I have been trying for the past few years.

Caleb couldn’t wait to get out of the car as soon as we reached home, leaving me alone as I glared at the garage. I had achieved everything I wanted, but my son hated me and my wife was six feet under the ground.

I got out of the car and checked my phone, thinking about the golden blonde hair and warm skin that smelt like vanilla. Her soft warm fingers holding my scarred hand. I hoped she was okay and her brother was looking after her.

“I told you already, I’m done.” I took a deep breath before clenching my fingers on the deadlift rod and pushed, its weight burning my arms and chest as I did ten more reps.

“This client is old money, Cillian,” Elena, my ex-boss and also a Sheikha of Azmia, spoke through the phone on speaker. “And the case is worth looking at. They’d really appreciate your help.”

I grunted when I placed the rod back on the support, glaring at the ceiling light of my home gym. “You know how I feel about rich clients, Elena.”

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