The Genetic Code

Chapter 21

Sterling

She's holding my hand. Her soft, small hand is gripping onto mine, and I feel like I'm going crazy...

That coordinator woman was reaching the climax of the story when she suddenly got startled next to me and grasped for my hand instinctively. It's been almost a minute, and she hasn't let go.

Horror stories don't faze me at all, because real life is ten times more terrifying than anything that can happen in one of those stories. But it appears that they have an effect on her. Even if she doesn't scream or jump like other people, I can tell by the way her eyes are wide with apprehension and she chews on her lip uneasily as she listens. She flinches when there's a jump-scare, and licks her lips, before regaining her composure trying to appear calm. I wasn't even listening anymore, I was just staring at her, observing her cute reactions.

Then she grabbed my hand out of the blue, and I became the one that was nervous.

My eyes are trained on her tiny hand that rests on mine, and I gulp. They're trembling. Is she that scared?

Oh, wait, it's my hands that are trembling. Ah... Shit. Why the hell are my hands trembling? I can hear my heart pounding loudly in my ears as well. Is that healthy? And I'm having trouble breathing, I sound like an old man heaving every breath like it weighs a ton on my chest. Am I having a stroke right now? Well, if I am, I hope it can wait, because I don't feel like letting go yet.

"And then... he... jumps out!"

She squeezes my hand at that jump-scare, clutching onto it tightly. I intake a sharp breath of air, and clear my throat uncomfortably.

She flips her head toward me, and looks down. Her eyes enlarge in realization, and she quickly releases my hand.

"I-I'm sorry," she stutters nervously, "I didn't realize—"

I don't respond, and avert my gaze, staring into the bonfire with deep concentration. She purses her lips, and looks away.

Somehow I can still feel the warmth of her touch lingering on my fingertips... It's probably just the heat radiating from the bonfire.

***

"You know you don't have to walk me back to the tent," she says, the first words she's spoken to me since that whole hand-holding fiasco. "There are facilitators literally twenty feet away. Ivan isn't gonna try anything."

"I don't care if you had seven bodyguards carrying guns. Sterling Crawford is still more effective. I'm walking you," I say tonelessly.

"I'm not a damsel in distress," she gripes, "I can take care of myself."

"Tell that to yourself seven hours ago," I quip back.

She just pouts sourly at me. "Whatever." I can't help the smile that grows on my face at that expression of hers. She obviously doesn't appreciate how tightly I've been guarding her the whole night, but I can't help it. For some reason, the thought of Ivan even looking at her makes my blood boil. Noticing him lurking a distance away, staring in this direction, I impulsively shield her from view with my body.

"Good night," I say gently as we arrive in front of her tent.

"At ease, bodyguard. I'd better see you tomorrow at 7am sharp for your protective duties."

I smile at her, waving, and watch as she disappears fully into her tent, before changing the expression on my face. The smile is instantaneously erased from my features, replaced by a menacing scowl, as I turn around and look into a pair of black beady eyes. Ivan gleams cockily, raising his eyebrows in challenge.

I take long strides across the campgrounds to meet him in the shadows and pull him roughly by the fabric of his shirt to a more secluded area away from everyone else.

As soon as we're far enough I release my grip on his shirt and send a hard kick to his stomach. He grunts as he hits the ground, holding his stomach and grimacing in pain. I step forward and press my foot down on his stomach.

"That was for what happened in the first aid building," I mutter dangerously through my teeth. I bend down and grab him, giving him a solid punch in the cheek. I wanted to hit him straight in the nose, but it would be too conspicuous in the morning with a bleeding nose, so the cheek was my safest bet because it would just blend in with rest of his bruises. Of course I made sure to pack a definite bite into that swing. "And that's for her bag this morning."

I yank him up from the ground and keep a death grip on his collar with both hands. "Let's play a game, shall we? Since you love your games so much." I bring our faces close together, glaring him down with icy grey, "It's called: cause her any trouble, and you get into twice the trouble... with me. Disrupt her life and I'll make sure to make yours a living hell until you wish you were dead. Don't touch her, don't talk to her, don't even look at her, or I'll kill you."

I don't know why I'm so angry, but I can't control it. I would kill him right here and now, but it's late and I don't feel like having to scrub douschebag juice from between my fingers; the bathrooms are kinda far from the campsite.

Ivan smirks. "Wow, this is the first time I see Sterling Crawford caring about someone — or anything, for that matter." My jaw clenches tightly. "Makes me feel like playing with her even more."

"Don't misunderstand, Karmichael," I say lowly, "Sterling Crawford doesn't care about anyone or anything. I just get mad when others lay hands on my property when they could very well find their own. Juliette Aldaine is mine. Only I can bother her. If you want a plaything so badly, go find another one."

I shove him to the ground and walk away before he can refute.

Once my back is to him, my face contorts into a grimace, and I sigh deeply. Those words made me feel sick as they left my mouth — claiming her as if she's some kind of object — but I had to, to throw Ivan off.

I had to play Ivan's game in order to get him to exit.