The Trouble With Bodyguards: Part 1

by Kristina Blake

  In the distance, she saw movement. Walking quickly, she called out, “Hello! Hey, wait a minute! I need help, I'm lost and I've been injured!” She quickened her pace, jogging toward what she could now see was a man, dressed in dark clothes, waiting on the sidewalk at a crosswalk for the light to change. Strange, she thought, that he would wait. There was no traffic, not a single car on the road in sight. She broke into a run as she saw him step out into the street, running toward him. She felt that he was her only chance, the only person in the world that could help her. She needed to catch up to him, before he disappeared.

  “Hey,” she cried. “Hey, wait!” She sprinted, her chest tight, the pain radiating through her body, bolts of electricity burning through her with every step. “Stop! Wait!”

  The man halted in the middle of the empty street, alerted by her cries for help. He turned to her, his face filled with concern. Alex caught up to him, panting from exertion, her bloodied hand held to her chest, throbbing with pain.

  He turned to her, devoid of expression, and she noticed that his eyes were completely black, no whites visible. Fear flooded her, stealing her breath, as she realized that this man, the only person who could rescue her from this empty and forbidding landscape, was the very stalker that she was attempting to escape.

  He opened his mouth, his teeth sharpened to points, glistening with fresh blood from feasting on his victims, and snarled at her in a deep, raspy voice, “You are mine.”

  Alex screamed, her voice breaking in fear, choking her, as she wrestled frantically to escape from the blankets covering her. Tears streamed down her face as she fought to catch her breath, sitting up in her bed, pulling herself from the nightmare that had taken her so completely into the fear that she was suffering that she could not seem to get away from it. She leapt up from the bed, staring at her palms, expecting to see blood, broken skin, where there was only pink, healthy skin, glistening with the sweat that was covering her entire body, her clothes clinging to her.

  She slumped, her legs going weak beneath her, and sat back down on her bed. She tried to calm her heart, pounding in her chest, her breathing coming easier as she came fully awake. The sun was setting, the room going dark around her, as she wept openly.

  She had fallen asleep. When Rick had gone, leaving her alone and afraid in the apartment by himself, so cold to her after their night together, she had felt lost. She had wept, sitting there on the kitchen floor, unsure of what she could do. There was a monster after her, watching her, and she was on her own. Wiping away her tears, she had tried to work, moving into the bedroom, double-checking the window to assure herself that she was safe. The pictures had been a blur; she could not concentrate on work with her mind in such a jumble of chaos. Somewhere amidst the tears and the confusion, her body had shut down, seeking solace in the comfort of sleep, but that had gotten her nowhere. She was shaking now with fear, with no one to turn to.

  Had he come back, she wondered, while she was asleep? She needed to talk to him, needed to see where they stood. Did he regret making love to her last night? Alex stood up, wiping the tears from her face, and headed for the bedroom door.

  He was sitting at the kitchen counter, a plate in front of him, eating a slice of pizza. Alex wondered if he had heard her scream, and if so, why he had not come to rescue her from the danger.

  “Hi,” she said, standing in the open doorway of her room, her arms crossed over her chest for comfort. It was awkward, being in the same room with him, not knowing where they stood.

  “Hi,” he replied, not looking to her. “I got a pizza. Are you hungry?”

  “Kinda,” she said, walking toward him. She wanted to touch him, to reach out to him for comfort. She wanted him to put his strong arms around her, kiss her gently, and tell her that everything was going to be all right. That he had taken care of everything, and that she had nothing to fear. He didn't, instead taking another bite of his pizza and sipping at a can of soda. Alex settled herself on the stool next to him, reaching for a slice of the pizza and setting it on the counter in front of her. She picked at the food, putting small bites in her mouth, convincing her body to accept the sustenance, even though she was not really tasting it.

  “When did you get back?” she asked, putting an olive in her mouth.

  “About twenty minutes ago,” he said, looking at his watch. He didn't turn to her, just continued to eat. It pained her, this cold silence of his. She would rather they were screaming at each other, their passion turning to anger, than enduring this chilled small talk.

  “About last night,” she said, reaching out a hand and gently touching his shoulder.

  “Listen,” he said, abruptly turning to her, frustration burning in his eyes. “Let's forget about last night. It was a bad idea. Your father hired me to protect you, not to be your boyfriend.”

  “I…” she said, hesitating. Her heart was searing in her chest. She felt betrayed, rejected. She wanted to be close to him, to wrap herself around him, and he was shoving her away with both hands. It felt like a slap to the face. Tears threated to well up in her eyes, as her breath caught in her throat.

  “Fine,” she said, standing. “Forget it.” She walked to her bedroom door, not wanting him to see the tears spilling down her cheeks. She went into her room, closing the door softly behind her.

  Rick pushed his pizza away from him, frustration and anger boiling inside him. He held his head in his hands, feeling nauseous for having to say that to her. He wanted to go to her, pull her to his chest, and wipe the tears from her eyes. He cared for her greatly – he might even love her. Fuck, who knows. There had been something, since the first time that he had laid eyes on her, that had drawn him to her. He hated this, being stuck in this situation. It would be easier if he could just leave, just walk away and never think about her ever again, but he couldn't do that. Not now, not when things were so uncertain.

  He thought about his discussion with the doctor today. The medications were not doing what they had hoped. The delusions had returned. Without diligence and supervision, someone was going to get hurt. He didn't want to have to go the hospitalization route again, it hadn't worked out well last time; in fact, it had made everything so much worse.

  He needed to handle this carefully. If he let himself love her, be with her, then he would leave himself open to mistakes, and that could end in pain for all of them. Rick pounded his fist against the countertop, walking away from his meal and heading into his room, shutting the door behind him.

  Chapter 20

  Rick held the door for Alex, ushering her into the police precinct. A meeting was arranged at one o'clock with the officer in charge of her case, a specialist in stalkers. They walked to the front counter, and a sweet-faced receptionist greeted them with a smile, probably glad to have normal-looking people walk in the door rather than the regular derelicts and criminals that frequented this place. She picked up her telephone, alerting the officer expecting them to their arrival, and asked that they have a seat in the waiting room.

  “I don't see how this is going to do any good,” said Alex, seating herself near a window.

  “Anything that they can do to help is good,” said Rick, standing near to the door, scanning the room for any sign of danger.

  “You already said that they didn't find any fingerprints on the photographs,” she said, running her fingers through her hair, frustrated. “What else can they do? This seems like a waste of time to me.”

  She looked to him, noticing that his mouth was tight, the corners turned down. She wondered if that was worry that she saw in his eyes, if he was looking to the police because he thought that he could not save her from this man by himself.

  “Alex,” said an older gentleman, walking toward her from the entrance to a hallway leading deeper into the station. He held out his hand, taking hers in a warm and comforting handshake. “I'm Detective Smythe,” he said. “Come with me, will you?” He gestured for her to walk with him, and Rick fell into step behind them, silent and s
tolid as they made their way to the detective's office.

  His office was small, with one window looking out onto the parking lot filled with patrol cars and officers standing around talking and smoking cigarettes as they waited to be called out to an emergency or a crime. Alex seated herself in one of the decrepit leather chairs facing his desk, seemingly having been part of the office since before this man was even born.

  “As I told Mr. Andrews on the phone,” he said, seating himself behind the desk, “we were not able to come up with any usable fingerprints from the photographs. The smudging was just too great.”

  “Yes,” Alex said, folding her hands in her lap. “He informed me of that.”

  “I called you in here today to discuss options for what we should do next.” The detective reached into a drawer, pulling a file folder from his desk and setting it before her. “There are protocols when it comes to a stalker case, steps we should take to not only avoid anyone getting hurt, but also to aid our department in being able to identify the person responsible.”

  “Steps?” Alex asked, reaching for the folder and opening it. “What kind of steps?”

  “We would install a camera outside your apartment, as well as your office, and monitor the footage, making note of any people with abnormal behavior. We could put a tap on your phones, tracing any calls that came in. We could place an officer outside your apartment.”

  Alex felt her world growing smaller, her life more restricted with each suggestion that the officer made. She didn't like how this man, whoever he was, was making her a prisoner in her own home. She had a bodyguard, and now she would have officers watching her every move, listening to her every word.

  “I don't know,” she said, leaning back in the seat and closing her eyes, tension radiating through her body. “If that's what you think we need to do.”

  “I do,” he said, “but it's completely up to you.”

  Chapter 21

  There had been nothing for weeks, no photographs, no gifts, nothing to alert them that her stalker was even paying attention to her anymore. Alex wondered how long she would be stuck with Rick before she would be able to convince her father that his services weren't needed anymore. She picked up her laptop, sliding it into bag, along with the layouts that she had created for the meeting today. A quick check-in with the Maybelline people, to deliver the first set of advertisements, before heading out to the shoot at the pier later this afternoon.

  She hadn't done an outdoor shoot since the day that the Polaroids had shown up, feeling too vulnerable out in the open, where anyone could watch her, unnoticed among the crowd. But each day spent in normalcy, living and working with no sign of danger, had distanced her from her fear, and now it was time to get back out into the world. Summer was coming to an end, and she wanted to take advantage of the natural light of the sun, while it still lasted.

  “Are you ready?” she called to him from the living room. He had insisted on driving her everywhere, being at her side each and every minute of her day. He checked each room before she entered it, and double checked all locks when she left her office each day. He didn't talk much, didn't put his arms around her, kissing her passionately. He didn't really acknowledge her at all. She would be glad when he was out of her life, forever.

  “Yes,” he said, slipping on his jacket, his gun holstered beneath it, and pulling open the front door. He scanned the hall, then gestured with his head for her to precede him.

  She strode confidently to the elevator. He had frowned upon her taking the stairs, claiming that it was too isolated, too convenient for someone to attack her without being noticed. Pressing the button to call the car, she stood, her gear bag thrown over her shoulder, waiting. She could feel him standing behind her, the heat from his body tingling on the skin of her bare arms. Part of her still wanted him, ached to have him grab her, touch her, but she shook it off, shoving those feelings deep into the darkness, where they could not make her do something stupid, not again.

  The morning was uneventful, the meeting went smoothly, but Alex was anxious about the shoot this afternoon. She would be exposed, vulnerable, her mind and body focused on the models, leaving herself open to attack at any time. Rick would be there, she reassured herself; that was his job, to keep an eye on the world around her, so that she could continue to live her life without fear. She sighed, sipping at a cup of coffee at her desk, and tried to concentrate on the task at hand.

  Her cell phone vibrated on the desktop, and she scooped it up, pleased to see her father's name on the screen. “Hey, Dad,” she said, answering it, and relaxed into her leather office chair.

  “There's my girl,” he said, the sound of his voice calming her frazzled nerves. “I was just calling to check in, make sure that everything's going well.”

  “As well as can be expected,” she said, “considering I'm over budget for this project, and behind schedule.” She chuckled.

  “Glad to hear it,” he said. “Nothing more from…” He hesitated, not wanting to talk about the subject of her stalker. “Nothing to worry about?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” she said, “not a peep. The officer in charge of my case called yesterday, saying that at this point it looks as though he has lost interest, that I probably will never hear from him again.”

  “Oh,” said her father, sighing with relief. “That's a great thing to hear.”

  “I think it might be time to start thinking about relieving Mr. Andrews of his duties,” she said, leaning forward.

  “Well,” he said, contemplating, “we'll have to think about that, won't we. Perhaps we can all get together this weekend, and discuss it.”

  “That,” she said, relaxing in her chair once again, “is a date. Listen, Dad, I have a shoot in an hour, so I'm sorry to say that I have to cut this short.”

  “My busy girl,” he said, chuckling. “Go, work your magic. I'll call you soon. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dad,” she said, pressing the button to end the call. She was relieved that he was considering her proposition. She was ready to be rid of Rick, despite the comfort of knowing that he was there, watching out for danger. It was well outweighed by the discomfort of spending each day and night in such close proximity to him, knowing the scent of his skin, the taste of his kisses, the weight of his body on hers, and being met with his cold responses each time that she talked to him. She couldn't stand it, the frustration of wanting to be close to him, while he was so distant.

  Chapter 22

  “That, that right there,” Alex said, elated. The light glittered on the water of the bay, sparkling in the bright afternoon sunlight. The models were in fine form, the heat of the sun warming their skin, glimmering in their bright eyes, casting stark shadows in the crooks of their arms. She loved it. In the images that she was able to capture, she could already see the masterpiece that this was to become.

  They had been at it for hours, hundreds of poses, thousands of pictures being snapped. She was in her element, focused on the work at hand, oblivious to the world around her. Rick had walked the perimeter of the area when they arrived, searching for hiding places where one would be able to see the area cordoned off for the photo shoot without being seen, and had found very few. The crowd was thick at the marina today, families having picnics, building sandcastles together, young women laying out on towels in the late summer sun. The whole atmosphere had a feeling of relaxation, of gaiety. Even Rick had climbed up on the hood of her car, stretching out in the sun after a while, his sunglasses masking his half-closed eyes.

  The sun began to set, the light cast over them taking on a red tone, when Alex decided that she had what she needed. “Bravo, ladies,” she said, stepping back from the group and taking a long drink from her water bottle. “Great job today.” Looking down at her camera, she scanned through a handful of the images that she had captured, pleased with what she found there. She would be at work for hours, perhaps even days, searching for exactly the right shot, the one that spoke to her, for this project
.

  She paused at her work table, packing her cameras into her bag, and thought momentarily of the last onsite shoot that she had done. How she had come back to find the Polaroids, starting the ball rolling on the nightmare that had been her life for the last few weeks. No gifts today, no pictures waiting for her as she gathered up her things. She smiled, glad that the whole thing seemed to be behind her. She could get her life back to normal.

  Looking up, she searched the area for Rick, expecting to find him still dozing on the hood of her car, or perhaps flirting with one of the models wrapping themselves up, preparing to head home. He was not anywhere nearby, so she scanned the boardwalk, thinking perhaps he had stepped away for something to eat. He wasn't there either, and Alex's stomach began to tingle, fear bubbling inside her.

  Wait, she thought, why am I afraid? Because Rick left, and she was here on her own. Anger welled in her, anger that this man had taken away her feelings of self-sufficiency, the very thing that she prided herself on most. It was the reason that she had done most things in her life, to prove that she could. She had stepped away from her family, not wanting to be coddled and spoiled, to set out on her own, making something of herself, without their help. She didn't need Rick to watch after her; she was a powerful and capable woman.

  She threw her camera bag into the back of the car, sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door behind her. She didn't need him, damn it, she could take care of herself. She put on her sunglasses, turning the ignition of the car, smiling as it roared to life beneath her. Fuck that guy. He could just find his own way home.