Page 86 of Bossy Bodyguard

STOP

CILLIAN

I winced, wiping the blood from my head, and sped my car. My cellphone was in my other hand as I noted her location and shared it to Elena’s team. I had called her, ignoring her order to stay back, and got in my car.

My vision was blurry, but I kept driving, my hand clutching the steering wheel. He lived so fucking near her house, and all that time was wasted because we did not get search warrants.

I prayed that Emma kept her heels on by some miracle. I had inserted a tracking device in each pair she owned, hoping that I’d never have to use them

We shouldn’t have underestimated the stalker. Look what he fucking did.

My jaw clenched, and I cut the engine, parking blocks away from the house. It was a quiet suburban street with huge bungalows on each side of the road. No wonder no one suspected him, even though he seemed fucking weird. If he was loaded, no one would bat an eye.

I checked the time on my watch and took a deep breath. The normal protocol was to wait for the team, surround the house, enter and seize the stalker and bring the hostage to safety. But I didn’t give a fuck about it when Emma was the hostage.

Checking my gun, I pulled off the safety and marched towards the house. I was going to save her, no matter what. I promised her.

And that’s when I heard her scream.

Emma

My lips parted when I looked around the vast ceiling and golden chandelier. The house was empty, with just a small dining table and two chairs, barely anything else. But it was enormous.

“It’s very… luxurious,” I said, our steps echoing on the floor when he sat me down on the chair. He pulled the other one closer and patted my bare shoulder. I held back my wince and kept smiling.

“I’m glad that you think so. I wanted you to decorate it so I haven’t done anything yet since I got it.”

“Got it?” I tilted my head, and he chuckled.

“Right, my name.” His dark gray eyes seemed familiar under the light and I held my breath when he said, “I’m Drake.”

Drake? Where have I heard that name before? Why does it seem familiar?

I looked at him once again and swallowed. “Drake… N-no.”

“Yes, I’m Drake Grant, little Emma,” he grinned, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “Do you remember me now? How we used to play hide and seek all the time and promised to live together?”

What the fuck? I stared at him. My head swirling with all the memories of my childhood. I remembered playing with Damon… and yes, I remembered bits and pieces of it.

My mother married a famous director, Miles Grant, who made cringey young adult movies with young girls. He already had a son, Drake, from his previous marriage, where his wife died mysteriously. When mom got married to him, they both had Damon and me. I was a kid when they split up, so I didn’t remember him, but Damon went to live with him, keeping his last name.

How the fuck was I supposed to remember Drake when I had been four at the time?

“I was a kid, Drake,” I said slowly and gently.

“So?” he chuckled, touching my hair and petting me as if I was his fucking dog. “You were such a cute little kid back then. I always called you little Emma when we played together.”

“With Damon?”

He scoffed, pulling away and rolling his eyes. “Damon was stupid. Never understood anything and always cried when I told him not to play with you.”

“Why?” I asked, even though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know his answer.

“Because you’re mine, little Emma,” he said, his eyes gleaming with lust when they roved over my body and I remembered I was still in that dress. The one which Cillian helped me zip up after sewing it so carefully. Cillian. I wanted Cillian.

“I’m yours?” I asked, still playing dumb, trying to unlock the cuffs underneath the table. But the damn thing wouldn’t budge.

“Yes, you’re mine. I claimed you when you were a kid. But you were so wild that I let you experiment with that Caleb boy.” My hands froze, and I kept my eyes on him when his face twisted into an evil laugh. “Did you hear how he fucking whimpered like a girl when I kicked him? And that ugly bodyguard, too! Both are so fucking weak. And ugly.” He leaned closer and kissed my nose. “They can’t protect you like I can, little Emma. I’m your half-brother after all.”

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