The Bodyguard: A Navy SEAL Romance

by Penelope Bloom

  The only problem now is we’re stepping back into the real world. Even though the vacation didn’t keep Linda McCroy or even Jake from following us, it gave us a sense of distance and space from Julianne’s determination to take Sophie from Liam. Liam hasn’t talked to me about the legal side of things, so I don’t even know when the court date is or if any progress has been made yet. All I know is that the child protective services representative watched Liam beat a man up in public and in front of his daughter. If it was a more reasonable person, I think we’d be able to give her the context of what happened and it wouldn’t seem as bad, but Linda is bought and paid for. She’s not looking for context, she’s looking for evidence, like a reporter ready to twist the story to sensationalize.

  Jake didn’t look like he had given up, either. Even after Liam wiped the floor with him, I saw the familiar determination in his eyes to get revenge. If I know him at all, which I unfortunately do, I think his beating from Liam is only going to make him try that much harder to get revenge now. Jake was always prideful to a fault, and the one thing you could count on was that he’d go out of his way to pay back damage done to his precious pride, imagined or not.

  I sigh. It’s hard to grapple with the extremes. On one hand I’m more happy than I’ve ever been. I’ve got everything I could have ever wanted and more. I can see the future of my life laid out and it’s a life I can’t wait to live for once, instead of one I dread to watch unfold.

  On the other hand, there’s a black cloud hanging over it all. There’s the grim possibility that Liam’s ex-wife could drive an irreversible wedge into our futures by turning Sophie’s life into a battleground. There’s also the possibility that Jake will keep waiting for the right moment and find a time where he can hurt me, or worse.

  When we get home, Sophie and Roxanne go off to their wings of the house while Liam and I head to his wing. I sit on the edge of his bed, watching as he starts unpacking.

  “We could wait to do all that,” I suggest. “There’s no rush.”

  “It’s fine,” he says, but his jaw is tight.

  “Well, at least let me help then,” I say, moving to grab a suitcase.

  “I got it,” he says tensely.

  I sit back, frowning. “What is it?”

  He rips some shirts and pants out of the suitcase and shoves them into a clothes hamper. “It’s fine. I’m handling it.”

  “Let me in, Liam. I’m your fiancée now,” I say, still getting a tingle of excitement from hearing it out loud. “You don’t have to shoulder everything alone anymore. Let me help,” I plead.

  He takes a deep breath and sinks down against the wall, pressing his palms to his forehead.

  I move beside him, putting my arms around his broad shoulders and resting my chin on them, looking at him as he studies the floor.

  “I fucked up,” he says.

  “You mean what happened on the boat?” I ask.

  “That,” he says, “And Linda fucking McCroy saw me propose to you on the beach. How’s that going to look?”

  I have to think for a moment before responding. That part was news to me, and it definitely wouldn’t look good. “Maybe instead of waiting to see what Julianne throws at us in court, we should go on the offensive. Can’t we look into her life and prove she’s not going to be a good mother for Sophie?”

  He nods. “Yeah. We could. I guess I got so caught up thinking she had no case against me that I didn’t even think of that. But yeah,” he says, looking up, eyes focusing on something distant as his thoughts churn. “Fuck yeah. We could probably bury her just from taking pictures of her place.”

  “Would that hold up in court? I mean if we broke in and took pictures, wouldn’t the fact that we committed a crime to get them make them unusable?”

  “I’m not sure,” he says. “Probably. But we could get her to invite us in. One of us could distract her while the other got the pictures.”

  “You think she’d invite us in?” I ask doubtfully.

  “Maybe. Yeah. If we make her think she’s won. She’d want a chance to gloat. We could make her think we’re coming over to surrender. Act like we just want to ask for some small allowance, like one day a week where I can see Sophie or something.”

  “It could work,” I agree.

  “I think so too,” he says, kissing my cheek. “Thanks, sweetheart. We’re going to make this happen.”

  The hope of having a plan doesn’t last long, because it’s only a few hours later that Liam comes in from outside where he was taking a call with his fists clenched and his eyes full of fire.

  “Where are Sophie and my mom?” he asks.

  “In their rooms, I think,” I say, leaning on the kitchen island. “What’s wrong?”

  “That bitch from child protective services and Julianne’s lawyers managed to get a temporary order of custody. They are taking Sophie tomorrow and putting her temporarily in the care of Julianne until the trial next week. We’ll have a week to present our case and try to win permanent custody of Sophie.”

  I don’t think any words can summon up the bleak emotions spreading through me, so I just move to Liam and hug him, holding onto him like an anchor in a storm, hoping he and I can find some way to fix this.

  “I have to tell Sophie,” he says, setting his jaw and pulling away from me.

  “Do you want me to help?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Not with this. No. She needs to hear it from me.” He squeezes my shoulder to tell me there are no hard feelings, it’s just him doing what he thinks is best right now.

  I wait helplessly in the kitchen as I watch him head toward her room.

  I look out over the beautiful view through the back patio windows and all the gorgeous statements of wealth in the construction of the house and the decor, thinking with disbelief how even in a place so perfect something so terrible can happen. Liam is a good father. He’s not a perfect father; no one is. But he’s a better father than most kids could ever hope to have. He’s honest with Sophie and he’s patient. He cares about her so passionately that I know he’d give up anything for her. The fact that the court system can rip a girl away from a man like him to give her to a woman like Julianne is sickening.

  How can they be so blind?

  My anger swells and rages, but I have nowhere to channel it, nothing to do or say that can make any difference. Not yet, at least. Not until Liam finds a way to get us inside Julianne’s house. I’m sure my plan will work if we can just get inside. It has to work.

  When Liam comes back from Sophie’s room, he looks drained. Instead of asking him how it went and making him re-live whatever pain he just experienced, I only hug him, pressing my cheek to his chest and listening to his rapid heartbeat. This is my man. My rock. He’s the strongest man I’ve ever met, and I know he’ll find a way to fix this, but seeing him hurt tears me apart. I want to move mountains for him, but don’t know if I have the strength. I’m sure as hell going to try though.

  “I’m going to go meet with my lawyers and then I’m going to find a way to get Julianne to agree to have us over,” says Liam in a flat, lifeless tone. “Just stay here for me, okay? Hold down the fort.”

  I nod, knowing Sophie is probably going to try to ride this out in her room and wondering if I’ll have to be the one to tell Roxanne. I pull out my phone and call Donna, begging her to come over and give me someone to vent to. She says she’ll be over in about half an hour.

  Just enough time for me to do what I know I should do, but I’m dreading.

  I summon up the courage to go to Sophie’s room, where I knock on the door and wait.

  After a few moments the door creaks open. Sophie’s eyes are red, but hard.

  “What do you want?” she asks.

  “I was hoping we could talk,” I say.

  “Why?” she asks, eyes brimming with tears and voice shaking. “So you can tell me it’s okay? So you can make me realize how much more I like you than my real mom? So it will be even harder to leave tomor
row?”

  My own eyes start to tingle with the threat of tears, but I fight it back. She needs to see me strong right now. If I am really going to believe this will all work out, I need to start becoming a mother to her, whether she ever thinks of me that way, I know she needs it in her life.

  “No,” I say, “because sometimes it’s just good to talk when you feel scared.”

  She looks at me for a long time, hand still on the door, until I think she’s about to slam the door in my face. Instead, her face softens a fraction and she motions for me to come in and drags her feet to her bed where she plops down on her back and stares at the ceiling.

  “Your dad and I are going to do everything we can to fix this,” I say.

  “Can you promise you’ll fix it?” she asks.

  “No,” I say, dragging the word out of my throat with great difficulty, like it’s a barbed spike I have to force every inch of the way. Every part of me wants to promise her that we can fix it, but one of the last things my mom promised me was that she’d fight the sickness for me, that she’d win. She promised she’d live and beat it, and she didn’t. I can’t do that to Sophie. I don’t hold it against my mom, and now I think I know why I had to endure the pain of that final broken promise. It was to prepare me to not make the same mistake. “We’re going to fight it with everything we have though,” I say. “I can promise you that.”

  Sophie looks at me from the corner of her eye. “Thank you,” she says softly. “I believe you. And for what it’s worth, I was upset at first when you said you and daddy were getting married. I thought he’d chase you away like all the other women. But you make him happy. You make grandma happy. And,” she says, chewing her lip. “I’m glad you are marrying him. Even if I don’t get to live with you guys.”

  “Sophie…” I say, grasping her hand and squeezing. The tears I tried to fight back come now, but I don’t wipe them away or hide my face. I meet her eyes with all the intensity I can muster. “We’re going to fight this.”

  When Donna finally arrives, I feel more exhausted than I’ve ever felt in my life. Sophie fell asleep on her bed while I held her hand, and Roxanne was napping in her room, blissfully unaware for now. But I feel like I just went through twelve rounds in the ring and got my butt handed to me.

  “You okay?” asks Donna as I sink down onto the couch and cover my eyes.

  “Kind of?” I ask.

  She laughs softly. “Good. Because if you said no with that big ass ring on your finger I was going to pinch you to remind you this isn’t a dream.”

  “Things are good and things are bad,” I say. “Like that time you wanted to date Peter Carlyle so bad that you dated his brother, but then you ended up liking his brother so much that you couldn’t bring yourself to break up with him when Peter started to like you.”

  She purses her lips, sitting on the loveseat beside me. “Oddly enough, I think I get what you’re saying.”

  I spend the next half hour venting to Donna and telling her everything that has happened in the past few weeks, both the good and the bad.

  She raises her eyebrows when I’ve finished. “Is it okay if I say congratulations?”

  I smirk. “Yes. Thank you.”

  “And also I think you should really look into what Roxanne told you about hiring a hit man. Because if you don’t hire a professional to kill her, I’m going to beat her to death with my own shoe for you, and I don’t think I’m going to get away with it.”

  I laugh. “Just wait until we see if this plan works. If it doesn’t, I’ll be right beside you. With two shoes.”

  “Oh,” says Donna, waving her hands dramatically. “You have to one up me and go all dual wielding shoe ninja?”

  I smile, remembering for the thousandth time why Donna is my best friend and always has been. She knows how to pull me out of the darkest depths.

  “So,” says Donna. “When is the wedding?”

  “I’m thinking we’re going to worry about setting a date after we figure all this out.”

  She sighs. “Fine. Be all reasonable, why don’t you. I still want to know. You better text me as soon as you know. No. Call me.”

  I spend the next few hours talking about nothing and everything with Donna, distracting myself from the inevitability of the obstacles ahead of me, waiting for Liam to return and waiting to get started.

  “It’s happening,” says Liam.

  Donna left a few minutes ago when Liam came home, and he’s standing in the doorway of our bedroom now, stripping his suit jacket and hanging it up in the closet.

  “Julianne is going to meet us tomorrow. We have to drop Sophie off in the morning, and then we can come by in the evening for dinner. She thinks she’s going to see me beg. It’s the only way I could get her to agree.”

  “Good,” I say, fear and excitement mingling in my chest. “You really think we’ll be able to sneak off and find anything?”

  “It’s possible. Julianne thinks she has won already. I doubt she’s being too cautious. This is her victory dinner. It’s her evil villain moment where she gets to pace around and explain how she planned everything perfectly all along, and how we were fools to fall for it.”

  I quirk an eyebrow, smirking. “You really don’t think very highly of her, do you?”

  He laughs, but the humor from his face slips as quickly as it cames. Liam comes to sit beside me on the bed. “To tell you the truth, there’s something I haven’t shared yet. I’m sorry I haven’t said anything, but I didn’t know if you’d understand. Now I think you will, so…

  “The reason all this is happening is because I wouldn’t give Julianne the money she wanted. The money is meaningless to me. I could give it to her and she might back out, even now. But I made a promise to myself that I’d do whatever I could to encourage Julianne to get right again. I wanted her to get back to the woman she used to be. Not for me, either. She’s never going to be able to be anything to me again, but I worried Sophie could never heal if she thought her biological mother didn’t care about her.

  “If I give her that money, I’m going to just keep feeding the monster inside Julianne that turned her into this in the first place. Somewhere behind the plastic surgery and the expensive clothes, there’s a decent woman, a woman who would have enough of a brain to care about her daughter.”

  She nods. “I understand. I think you did the right thing saying no.”

  I didn’t realize how much I needed someone to support me in my decision until the words come out of her mouth. My shoulders loosen slightly and I feel my jaw relax. “But,” I say, “if our plan doesn’t work, I’m willing to break the promise I made to myself. I’ll give her whatever she wants. Whatever it takes to get Sophie back.”

  Aubrey nods. “You think she’d back down after pushing it this far?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest,” I say. “I hope. I have to hope, because if our plan doesn’t work, it’ll be our only choice and our only chance.”

  We spend the evening enjoying each other’s company. Liam discreetly tells Roxanne what’s happening, and she takes it well, at least as well as could be expected for a cantankerous old woman like her. There’s a glint of murder in her eyes, and I think she would literally try to ram Julianne with her wheelchair if she walked in the door, but other than that, the night goes smoothly.

  Sophie, for her part, does a good job of not pouting or holding anger about what’s happening. We watch a movie together, play monopoly--I’m fairly sure Liam helped Sophie cheat through the whole game--eat a takeout dinner with plastic silverware, and Sophie sleeps in our bed that night, her small body wedged sweetly between Liam and I, where we hold her and silently hope and pray that this all works out.

  The night is like a ray of light in the dark days that will likely follow, and I know I’ll need to hold on to this memory for strength, and the memory of the cruise and the proposal. I’ll need to hold on to all of it.

  39

  Liam

  We dropped Sophie off in the mo
rning, and pulling away from Julianne’s house without my baby in the car felt like leaving a piece of my body behind. Even though I know Aubrey and I will be coming back in a few hours for dinner where I can possibly see her, it doesn’t help. Every minute apart from my daughter is torture, and it only serves to drive my need to fix this to feverish levels. I’m going to make it right. Even if it fucking kills me.

  I hope for Jake’s sake that he doesn’t decide to show his creepy face any time soon, because right now I might just knock his head off his shoulders if he got in my way.

  The hours before Aubrey and I head to Julianne’s are the slowest, most torturous hours I’ve ever endured, and by the time we’re driving over, my jaw is sore from being clenched and my hands are numb from involuntarily squeezing the shit out of whatever I touch. For her part, Aubrey looks like she’s ready to kill something. Despite the blackness surrounding me, seeing the protective side of her extending toward my daughter makes me feel a surge of love toward her. Love. The old me would laugh at the thought.

  I told myself I was done with the idea of love after Julianne. If I thought I loved that woman, I obviously can’t be trusted to make judgments on love. Or if that was love, then what’s the big deal? If it can be so temporary and fleeting, why even bother giving the word a classification.

  But what I feel for Aubrey eclipses anything I ever felt for Julianne. I thought what I felt for her was love all those years ago, but it was only because I had never experienced the real thing for someone other than family. My feelings for Aubrey are so strong they frighten me. Just like with Sophie, I would die for Aubrey in a heartbeat. If I thought it was the only way to protect her, even if I thought it would protect her from the possibility of harm, I’d lay my life down for her.

  It’s not an empty promise, either, and that’s what is so overpowering. In such a short time, this woman has taken a place in my heart that I know will never go away. That’s love.