Page 75 of Bossy Bodyguard

“Not for a week at least, Emma,” Mrs. Karen replied, frowning at the bandage and slowly patted my other hand. She had wrinkles around her eyes, and her hair was completely gray. “Why do people keep hurting you, child?”

“What do you mean?” I raised my chin and waved my injured hand around. “This is a battle scar, not an injury.”

“Foolish girl,” she said playfully and stood up from my bed. “Go to sleep. Call if you need help.”

“I won’t. I’m a big girl now.”

“Sure you are.”

I narrowed my eyes at her and shook my head. I wondered what my mother would think of the scar on my palm. She’d probably book an appointment with an esthetician to help me heal the scar faster.

Tracing my finger over the minor cuts on my legs, I drifted back to the time when the stalker had attacked me and Zayed. He rammed his car into ours, tried to kidnap me, hurt Zayed and still ran away with a wounded thigh.

His face was covered, but I had seen his eyes. Heard his voice and knew his body build. Tall, lean, with muscles and a groggy voice. As if he wasn’t used to speaking. Did I know someone like that?

He had hurt Zayed… what if it was Cillian instead of him? What if he had a gun?

My skin crawled with fear and uncertainty. I didn’t want anything to happen to him…

Shaking my head, I stood up from the bed and patted down my hair. Straightening the night dress I had worn to bed, I took a deep breath and walked out of the bedroom. His room was closest to mine, just six paces away.

“D-don’t!”

My body froze, hearing the low groan from inside his room. A sob. “Please don’t!” Another sob. My heart stuttered hearing breathless cries. Was he…?

I knocked on the door. “Cillian? Can I come in?”

Nothing.

Then a sharp cry. The small hair on the back of my neck rose in attention and my limbs moved before I could think. Opening the door, which was already unlocked, I walked into his dark room.

45

SHOW ME

CILLIAN

It was a nightmare. I knew that much.

I had been reliving the same dreams of my past, of my sins, for years. But that time… it was different and horrifying.

My feet floated into the house that looked like mine. My brain was a victim of its trauma, and I couldn’t stop myself when I started climbing the stairs with flowers and a cake box in my hands. It was happening again.

“D-don’t!” I tried to warn myself. To stop. To turn away. But my brain wasn’t listening to me, and I kept floating.

I opened the door and found a woman lying on my bed. “Please don’t!” I cried out, moving closer and instead of dark brown hair, wavy golden locks splayed on the pillow.

My body froze, something like fear and raw terror creeping through my bones.

I moved closer, my breath in my throat, and found her blue eyes staring at me. Red blood sliding from the side of her head as she slowly sat up. Her school uniform ripped at various places, cuts all over her legs with a deep wound on her palm. The white sheets of the bed were turning dark red as she bled.

“What did you do, Cillian?” she whispered, her eyes watering, and I couldn’t make myself speak when the bouquet of wilted flowers fell from my hand, the box of cake dropping on the rug.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice barely audible as I kept watching her. My Doll getting hurt while I couldn’t do anything.

Her warm, pale skin turned white, her plump pink lips turned colorless, and her eyes lost their shine.

“You did this,” she said, a dark figure looming behind her, and a low sound elicited from my throat when that shadow grabbed her shoulder. I tried to move, but my limbs were tightened by an invisible rope, and I could not use them. Just watch as the shadow used a knife and cut her.

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