Her Mafia Bodyguard - Page 11

MIA

Stupid me, thinking things might be a little different now. Like if Dad wasn’t around, I could have a little bit of freedom for once. I mean, in whose world does an employee not slack off at least a little when they’re miles away from their boss? I guess in mine.

No, I had the bad luck of getting stuck with the last Boy Scout or whatever the hell Zeke thinks he is. Like he’s got to earn brownie points. I’m sure he’ll deliver daily reports, too. I wonder if he has to track the times I go to the bathroom and the outcome.

My arm still aches from the way Zeke gripped it as we roll up in front of a building that looks more like a spa or a fancy hotel than an apartment building. “This is it?” I mutter to myself as we pull past a series of meticulously maintained topiaries and a marble fountain shooting water high into the air. It sparkles like diamonds before dropping into the pool surrounding it.

“What? Not nice enough for you?”

“Did I say that? Tell me when I said that.” All he does is snicker. “I didn’t expect it to be this nice. That’s what I meant. It seems like a lot for a college freshman.”

“Nothing’s too good for the princess.”

“Would you stop calling me that? You know damn well I didn’t live like this before my mom died.” And just the thought of her makes my throat go tight. What would she think of all this? Probably that it’s too much. I know she wanted the best for me, but I didn’t earn any of it. That would be a different story to her.

“Don’t act like your life didn’t get better.”

It’s my turn to snicker. “So did yours. Or were you living in a palace like this before I came along?”

He grunts but doesn’t argue with me, which means I’m right. It’s not exactly easy to get the last word with him, so I’ll take it as a victory after he humiliated me at the gas station.

I can’t even have a phone my father doesn’t monitor. I know he has access somehow, and I know he’ll continue to even though I’m away at college.

It’s funny in a sad way. I know my best friend, Blair, thinks I’ve got it made, like having all this money is a huge win or whatever. And yes, it is in a lot of ways. I don’t have to worry about getting a job to support myself, for one thing.

But when she goes to school, she’ll have a life of her own. No having a guardian watching her every second. No being spied on or having her phone calls tracked. It would be heaven compared to what I have ahead of me.

Dad was right about everything being moved in and set up by the time we arrived. There’s a full set of living room furniture, a big TV, even artwork on the walls. It’s all kind of bland, but I’d rather it be bland than tacky or over the top.

The kitchen’s amazing, too. I wonder if I’ll have enough time to do any cooking because the shiny appliances and gleaming, untouched pots and pans are practically begging to be used. The fridge is fully stocked and looks like something from a high-end supermarket.

What I’m most interested in is the room where I’ll probably end up spending most of my time. The bedroom is huge, with an en suite bathroom—thank God for that. I was worried about having to share a bathroom with the asshole whose bedroom is across from mine. From what I can see through the open door, it’s practically identical to this one.

Although would it really be so bad if he caught me coming out of the shower? Or vice versa?

Dammit. I need to get him out of my system, or else things will only get worse. It’s awkward and painful enough to face him already, especially when he makes little remarks like he did earlier. We both know I don’t hate him—who the fuck says that? Oh, right, ignorant dickheads who think they’re better than me because… why? Because he gets paid to follow me around like a dog? If I were him, I wouldn’t be too full of myself.

“Princess? You okay in there?” He pokes his head into the room and looks around. “Nice. Big bed. Mine, too.”

“Good for you.” I turn around to where my suitcases were left. The one thing I wouldn’t give an inch on was unpacking my own clothes. Sorry, but I don’t love the idea of total strangers putting their hands on my underwear.

When I explained it that way to my dad, he got it. Like all he cares about is keeping me pure, making sure no man ever so much as sees my panties. It’s almost bizarre.

And pointless. If he wants me to stay a virgin for the rest of my life, he should’ve sent me to a convent. Or to a cabin on top of a mountain. Instead, I’m at college, and there’s how many guys here? Guys my age who want to drink and party and have sex.

I know I’m not ugly. I might be a virgin, but I do know some things. Once everybody’s settled into their dorms or apartments or whatever, they’ll want to start throwing parties. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel—I think that’s how the saying goes. I could stroll into a party anywhere and hand over my v-card by the end of the night. No problem.

I hit the bed with a thump when reality finally sinks in. I’m never going to be allowed to go to a party, not without Zeke. And I’m not about to walk around with him practically brushing up against my back all the time. Breathing down my neck. Like any guy would want to come near with him standing over me.

There won’t be finding a boyfriend or even dating casually. Hell, I won’t be able to give a dude a hand job while we’re making out in a dark corner.

There has to be a way out of this. Somehow, I have to find a way to make Zeke see he doesn’t have to jump through Dad’s hoops now that we’re miles away. What if he meets somebody he likes and wants alone time with her?

I hate the ache in my chest when the idea hits me. Zeke with some random skank. Kissing and touching her. Doing all the things I’ve imagined him doing to me. Letting her do all the things I want to do to him.

No. Wanted. Past tense. I grip the bedspread with both fists, squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I can. I need to stop thinking of him that way. I was stupid and had a crush, and that’s it. One of those dumb things.

Nothing was ever going to happen between us. All the looks I thought he gave me were in my head. He’s never been interested, never seen me as anything more than a spoiled brat. A princess.

Tags: J.L. Beck, C. Hallman Romance
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