She's My Bodyguard

Nine

The words barely came out as a whisper.

"It came down to a judgement, Romera. I'm sorry." My chest felt excruciatingly tight. "I will be more than happy to give you references, but I cannot keep you under my name with the closeness you have with Clairmont."

"THERE ISN'T ANYTHING BETWEEN US!" I snapped. "You're firing me under these false claims! You don't know what could have happened! Put me under a damn polygraph for all I care! I'm telling you the truth!"

"And because of your strong reactions, it's why it has led me to believe that there is something going on... You can stay back at the employee housing until you find an apartment, but until then... you have 48 hours to clear your items from his property. Sign the paper." I was losing my battle with my emotions. I signed the paper and took my check. "I will let you figure out your vehicle situation when you come back to housing because I will need the keys back." I handed over my issues badges and Level 3 uniform, and ran from the office, breaking down in the SUV.

The first non-PTSD related breakdown I have had since I got discharged.

It was sundown when I made it back to the property and they were already eating dinner. I didn't join them. I slipped in quietly and began to pack my stuff up. I made sure everything was on silent to avoid any unwanted calls.

"What are you doing?" I almost shit my pants as Clairmont- well... I guess now I could address him by his first name since I was let go- Mason, snuck up on me.

"Gunner didn't tell you, did he?" I didn't face him.

"No, what the hell happened?" I didn't answer. "He fired you?!" His voice became loud. Angry. "Oh, hell no!"

"Don't fight him on it, Mason." I whispered, continuing to pack my stuff. "I'll find another job, and you can get a more stable bodyguard."

"You didn't do anything wrong-"

"But in his eyes, I fucked up." I put a shirt up, pressed down, but kept my hands down in my suitcase. "Don't worry. If you need an interpreter, I'm licensed in that, too." I choked out a laugh sarcastically. "Or overseas work, but I can't be employed by any other company in this fucking state because of my mental status." It was silent as I continued to pack my stuff.

"Don't leave." I stopped moving.

"What?" I finally had the nerve to look at him.

"Don't leave. I don't want another bodyguard, or another person living in this house that has a stick up his ass. I like you, Leysa. More than I wanted to ever admit. I know you wanted to distance yourself because of the contract, but if you need work... Why not be my interpreter instead? Overseas, you be a bodyguard since you have the proper clearances, but here... You're not bound by anything." I had a lump the size of a boulder in my throat. "Tell me you didn't feel anything when we kissed both those times, and I'll back off." He stepped closer, his hand on my neck, thumb on my cheek. I closed my eyes, looking down, but said nothing.

I said nothing because I did. What wasn't there to like about this man? He was kind, funny, handsome... We both served, which could be a problem...

"Tell me," He reiterated, "And I'll back off." I chewed on my lip and bit the bullet.

He pulled my lips to his, and I savored it, but it was the wrong thing to do.

I savored the moment until he pulled away, both of us breathing heavily. "Please, don't leave."

*

I had Harris take the Suburban back to the office, and since it was a Saturday, Mason wasn't working. Callahan was now his main guard, not live in. Mason had expressed his concern with the company, and told him that the bodyguards will only be for office use only.