Princess Bodyguard

by Sophie Thompson

  Callum felt his instinct to run kick in. He wanted to move, duck for cover. Talking about himself was his least favorite pastime. But the combination of warmth and vulnerability in hers held him in place. She gave of herself so easily. The least he could do was give her something in return.

  "You know everything about me and I don't know anything about you. I don't know where you grew up or if you played sports." She spoke softly, but he could hear the stress in her voice.

  "I told you all that when we lived together."

  "Was that the truth or just more of your cover story?"

  "It was the truth." He sighed. He came here to face her head on. Deal with what they had so they could both move on. And that started with honesty.

  "Most of it was true," he continued, "I might was glossed over a few of the more less than flattering moments" Normally, when people asked about his personal life, he shrugged off the question. He never considered it relevant. He was the man he was and that had nothing to do with where he came from or who his parents were. But she deserved to know. She deserved something from him even if it was nothing more than a sad little childhood memory.

  "I didn't tell you much about my father, did I?"

  "No, you did not tell me much about anything, but I was too in love with you to notice."

  He glanced at her for a moment not sure what to do with her honesty. No one had ever said they had ever loved him before. He ignored the emotions it stirred within him and looked back over the semi-dark room. It was easier to focus on the outlines of furniture and other stuff scattered about the room that was hers than the actual woman that found the cracks in his defense as easily as if her words were guided by heat-seeking missiles.

  "I don't talk about him much. To anyone." He looked pointedly at her hoping she would understand. "He was a career Navy man. Retired as a four-star admiral. Went to the Naval Academy like his father and his father before him."

  "But you're in the Army?" Her question was one he had to answer often. Usually he did so with a shrug or a flippant comment, but she deserved more than that from him.

  "Yeah, we didn't have the healthiest father-son relationship." When Elizabeth did not say anything else, he continued. "So, I grew-up on Navy bases. A regular military brat. I was more at home everywhere than somewhere. He was always out at sea working on that next rank promotion and I was hanging out with the kids getting into all the crap that kids get into. It was a great life for me and the Admiral, but not so much for my mom."

  "When I was thirteen, we were stationed at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii. Beautiful place, right? Well, I think people forget how small the island is. You can lap it in about 3 hours. Well, my dad was off on a six-month tour and I had spent the day, it was a Sunday, learning how to surf with some friends. I came home and found my mother swallowed a bottle full of pills."

  Callum heard Elizabeth gasp, but kept talking.

  "It wouldn't go into the gory details, but it's not a pretty way to die." Callum took a deep breath but did not look over at Elizabeth. She knew the face he would see. He also knew that if he saw her face he would not be able to finish his story.

  "Anyway, I called 911. I didn't want to leave the house so a family friend came and stayed until they could get my father home. That first night after everyone left and I was able to hide out in my room, I was so upset that I just passed out on the bed. But the nights after that were a lot more difficult. I remember standing in her closet and just smelling her clothes every day after school. Then when the night came, and I couldn't sleep, I took up the habit of sleeping in her robe so I could have her scent all around me."

  "What did she smell like?"

  Callum turned towards Elizabeth's soft voice. She looked stricken by the story, as he knew she would. So he offered her a small smile.

  "Lavender. She kept all of these sachets in her dresser drawers and her closet. She hated moving so much, and said that by the time he got the cardboard smell out of her clothes they would have to move again. To this day, that smell makes me a little nauseous."

  They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

  "I found a butterscotch candy in her robe the first night I wore it. And, you know the worst part?"

  Elizabeth shook her head.

  "I didn't even know she liked that kind candy. Heck, I didn't know she even ate candy. When I found it just made me start thinking of all the things I didn't know about my mother. Like how unhappy she was. Did she have any friends? I don't even know how she spent most of her days."

  Callum felt a lump begin to creep up the back of his throat. It had been a long time since he thought about his mom and that awful day. He concentrated on holding himself together. The last thing he wanted was to ruin these last few hours together with some sappy story and painful memories. Elizabeth shifted positions and put her head back on his shoulder. She stroked his stomach with the palm of her hand in a slow rhythm.

  He told himself he did not want her pity. He had lived a life of looking into sad eyes after anyone learned how his mom died. But the warmth of her body felt so good next to his that he suppressed his first instinct- to get up and run -- and leaned into her, letting her take some of his weight, and maybe some of his pain as well.

  "So what happened when your father came home?"

  Thinking of his father was enough to dam the tears that were threatening a moment ago. Callum allowed himself few emotions where the Admiral was concerned and none of them were pleasant or heartfelt.

  "He came home. Blamed me for not taking care of her and for disrupting his mission. It took him two months to bury my mother and find some child care for me before he could get back out to his ship. After that it was boarding schools, West Point, eventually I got in with the Special Mission Branch and ended up on the White House Special Action Task Force where I met you. Blah, blah, blah. All very boring and uneventful."

  "It is not and you know it. Where is your father now?" Elizabeth lazily rubbed her thumb over his scared chest.

  "He died two years ago. I buried him in Arlington. I figured if he was there, someone would visit him once in a while. It sure as hell won't be me."

  "I'm sorry." Elizabeth said. She turned her head and kissed an old knife wound that pucker over his lower ribs.

  "I'm not."

  Callum did not hate his father. He felt nothing for the man. He resisted the urge to shift positions or get out of the bed. He knew that she needed to touch him and much as he needed to feel her touch.

  "So, you never reconciled?"

  "I tried once. Right before my graduation at West Point, I drove down to DC where he was stationed at the Pentagon and asked if he would come to my graduation."

  "And did he come?" Elizabeth squeezed his hand tighter. He could only shake his head.

  "How awful."

  "Not every man should be a husband and a father."

  Callum tried to ignore the feeling that he was talking about himself. He knew he was nothing like his father. But, how could he be a husband or a father if he never had one himself. There was no way he would raise a kid the way he was raised. The moment Callum put on a uniform, he knew what choice he made. Some men did a wonderful job at juggling it all -- wife, home, kids, deployments. He admired them, but knew that could never be him. If he could work, take a deployment or a shift, and send those guys home to be tickle monsters and get a warm snuggle in the middle of the night, then he did. Elizabeth needed to hear his story so she understood why he left her in Honduras and why he would leave her again when this mission was over.

  Elizabeth looked at the man she loved. There was no doubt in her heart or her head that Callum would always be the love of her life. She understood and appreciated the gift that he just gave her. It helped her to answer the burning question the whys and hows of Callum Evans.

  She had suffered tragedy and loss as well, but her memories were those of family and love. She could not imagine what it was like feel as alone as he must. It was only one story, but she d
oubted there were many people on the planet that understood what he went through with his father.

  "You think you are just like him, don't you?" She sat up, modesty had her holding the sheet over her naked breasts, and looked down at him.

  Could he, this strong wonderful man, be that lost? Misunderstand himself that much?

  Callum threw the covers off and stood not giving his nakedness a second thought. One of his team dropped by a change of clothes for him a few hours ago. "It was only a story. Not some psychoanalysis session. Don't make it more than it is, Elizabeth. Believe me, I've seen enough shrinks to know that I'm okay."

  Elizabeth wrapped the sheet around her and claimed out of bed and put a hand on his arm as he pulled on a pair of boxers. She could sense that he wanted to pull away. His eyes darted around as if he was looking for a way out. But, since he was the man he was, he held his ground.

  Elizabeth ran her hands over his morning whiskers and smoothed her thumbs over his dry cheeks hoping that the motion would somehow find it way to soothe that part deep inside of him that he never let anyone touch. She wanted to make him understand, make him see what she saw when she looked at him. When she thought about him. The way he made her feel.

  All she could think of was to say, "You are nothing like you father. When we were together you made me feel wonderful."

  "It was my mission to protect you. I could not leave you side even if I wanted to." His voice was cold. She felt him pulling away.

  Her hands fell back to her sides. He had hit her where he knew it would hurt the most. She saw the regret in his eyes immediately but he did not apologize. She knew he wouldn't. He had told her too much and had made himself vulnerable. Like a cornered animal he would need to lash out.

  "You didn't mean that. You said that to hurt me. And you did." Elizabeth spoke calmly.

  He turned his back to her and jerked a dark green polo over his head. He pulled on jeans in the same angry motions while she stood there watching him and wondering how to reach him before he rebuilt all of his walls.

  He raked his hand though his hair. Dressed except for his bare feet, he finally turned to her. "Duty is everything to me just like it was to him. You should understand that. Duty is everything to you as well."

  "Duty and love can coexist, Callum. I do plan to love, get married, and have a family. A family that shares in my life and is as much of my duty as this country is to me."

  "Do you love Watson? Do you see managing duty and family with him?"

  That caught her off guard. She had not come up with an answer for that question in her own head, so she had no idea how to answer him. "After last night, he would have a lot of explaining to do for me to accept him again, but I have also made him wait for longer than I should for an answer. A part of me loves him for what he did for my family. He was there when you were not."

  "I'm happy for you both. You make a lovely couple." She heard the sarcasm in his voice. He walked out of the bedroom and searched for his shoes and socks near the sofa where he left his clothes from the night before.

  "Do you have an alternative you would like to offer me?"

  She was surprised when she heard the words even though they came out of her own mouth. He just stared at her. He froze and his face went blank. She had never seen anyone look more terrified. But now that the words were said she wanted to know his answer.

  "Have you never pictured a life where you are I get to live happily ever after?" She asked.

  His face was white. She knew that the thought of giving up his duty for love scared him more than when he had to look down a barrel of a gun. But she did not understand why?

  "Is it because of you father?" She asked.

  "No. It's because I am a solider. It is what I do and who I am." He paused as if searching for the words. "It's what I am."

  "But it’s not all that you are." Elizabeth took a step toward him. He took a step away. She smiled. She loved this man and she was going to show him that he was something other than a solider. He was a man. A man with the capacity to love and to care. Honduras was not an act. What they felt for each other was real. She had to believe it and she needed him to know. They had played the same game for four years of ignoring what they had. It was time to stop running. And yet he was here. That had to mean something.

  "Fine. I'll give up my throne. Stefan is more prepare than I to rule." Elizabeth was dead serious. She loved this man. And, if she had to give up her life for his, she would.

  He took a step backwards. "No. Why would you do that? Because we shared one night?"

  She swallowed hard and felt her throat tighten. She was exhausted and did not have the energy to control her emotions. Unshed tears blurred her vision. If possible, Callum went even more pale.

  "All, I would never ask you to do that for me. Never." His voice was rough.

  "No, you didn't. I offered."

  He shook his head. "No. I saw what that did to my mother. I could never do that to do. No one should have to chase someone else's dream only to give up theirs in the process."

  She could hear the tension and strain in his voice, and knew that she was pushing him. Making him think of commitments and the future. Callum was a man who lived and loved in the present. She understood that about him now. But she had to push. She needed to figure her life out. Marriage and family were not just a royal obligation, but something she wanted for herself. Elizabeth had to know if Callum could ever be that man. She would step down for him. Doing something for the person you loved was not sacrifice. It was not giving up your dream. It was creating a new dream together. If he would let her. If he wanted her. Fear raced through her veins like ice water. Did she misunderstand him again? What if all he ever wanted from her was a way to say good-bye.

  Callum knew this had gone too far. This was a mistake. He should never have stayed. She was ready to give up the throne. What the hell? She was exhausted and not thinking straight. He was not worthy such a commitment. He could never live up to whatever it was she thought he was. Every action, every mistake he made - and he was sure there would be many - he would be afraid she was thinking that she left her country for this man.

  Her amber eyes were glassy as if she was somewhere between crying for joy and crying from frustration. He wished he could explain to her why he could not stay. Why he was scared as hell of her and her willingness to make such as sacrifice for him. He wished he could be more than what he was. But he wasn't.

  He drank her in. Memorized her standing there with a sheet wrapped about her like a toga with her hair messy from the night before and her face natural and glowing. He gave her what he knew was a weak smile, grabbed his clothes and shoes, and said good-bye.

  " just left?" Sam sat back in his chair and stared at Callum. He took the headphones he wore around his neck off and laid then near the two laptops he was working on. "Man, that's cold."

  Callum felt his face heat with embarrassment and regret. He had gone to the safe house after her left her palace. He had taken another shower and changed into another pair of khakis and a polo. He left the hot water wash over him. He wanted to keep his thoughts neutral, but his brain betrayed him an images of the last shower he took flashed though his mind. Unable to stand the quiet any longer, Callum headed downstairs to join Sam and Edward's communications expert, Bailey Andrews. But Bailey had been out on a run, and being the keen observer, Sam knew something was wrong.

  Callum gave his friend the abridged version of his night with Elizabeth. He felt as if he needed to confide - or confess - to someone and Sam had been there from the bringing. But now that Sam called him on what he had done, all Callum wanted to do was drop the subject.

  "Just drop it. I don't want to discuss it or her unless it pertains to Argent. Understand."

  Sam raised his eyebrows. "Sure. I understand."

  "So where are we with Watson? Did we get the debriefing report yet?"

  "No, not yet. The scheduled meeting," both Sam and Callum rolled their eyes, "is supposed to start
in about in about fifteen minutes. Edward and the Prince, along with JT and some other guys, are headed over now. But Bailey did find something interesting on your boy Watson last night."

  Callum leaned forward and put his elbows on the table.

  "It seems that Ms. Perfect Prince Charming has a past."

  "Really. Do tell." Callum tried to tamper the glee he felt that Watson may not be such a great catch after all. Callum had been in the business long enough to know that everyone had a past. It was what people did about it that told him what kind of man or woman they were.

  "He was a hellion at his boarding school and university. But someone covered for him and paid enough people to have his record hidden."

  "Obviously, they did not hide it deep enough for you."

  Sam grinned. "It was Bailey. I would never tell her this, but she is a damn fine hacker."

  "Should I ask what you mean my damn fine? Are you taking about her looks or her hacking skills?" Callum teased.

  Sam ignored him and Callum let him be. The last thing he wanted to have taunt Sam enough that he was forced to bring Elizabeth back up in defense.

  "Back to Watson." Sam gave Callum a look of warning as he continued. "His indiscretions," Sam used his hand for air quotes, "which is the term his father used when he asked for the police to conveniently forget that his son is a criminal are pretty serious. There is a pattern of escalation, too that is concerning."

  "How do you mean?" Callum ground his teeth together. He planned to call Cal the minute Sam was finished with the brief and tell him not to let Watson near Elizabeth until he could get back to the palace. His gut was screaming that this guy was no good in any way, shape, or form.

  "He ran an extortion ring at his boarding school, and from the reports Bailey uncovered, it seems that his little bow-tie wearing gang was pretty brutal to the boys that did not cooperate and pay him a bodyguard fee. Then he had an alternation with a teacher that left the teacher in the hospital. There were car thefts, break-ins. You know, your normal run-of-the-mill teenage pranks." Sam said with a sarcastic smile.