“It was less than a year after I left the military. I’d been hired by a bodyguard firm, and after a few jobs, I was assigned to a big one. It was to protect the daughter of a diplomat. He and his family had just moved from Belgium so he could focus on some international work here in Seattle, and he brought his wife and daughter with him. They all spoke English just fine, but the girl struggled to make friends, and her mother was worried about some threats they’d received back in their home country. So, the company I was working for sent me in. I was the only female bodyguard on the roster, which is probably why I got the job. I took her to and from her private school, even when she stayed after for theater club and soccer practice. I even taught her some of my old soccer moves. That was how we bonded in the beginning. She used to make fun of me for calling it ‘soccer.’”
“She sounds really sweet. How old was she?”
“Fourteen. So she was thrown into American middle school, where hormones are exploding and both boys and girls start honing in on what makes you different. Kids were jealous of her heritage and her father’s fancy government position. She got picked on a lot. So she kind of latched onto me before she started making a couple of friends. After all, we could both relate to what it was like having to navigate American culture while having grown up in a different one.”
“I thought you were born here?”
“I was. But my parents kept me in their cultural bubble when I wasn’t at school. Besides, kids don’t care where you’re born. All they cared about was that I was different because I was Indian and my parents had accents. Back then, it was really, really trendy to make fun of Indian ‘call center’ accents. I couldn’t get away from it.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
“So Rosalie and I—that was her name—we bonded over all kinds of things. We were together 24/7, after all. She reminded me a lot of my little sister Nisha, who I hadn’t been allowed to see or talk to for several years by that point. I admit, I started feeling attached to her, especially toward the end of her stay. She was so upset about having to return to Europe. I was distracted trying to make her feel better. I didn’t pay attention like I should have…”
Bianca squeezed Sam’s tense body. It grounded her enough to continue.
“We were out shopping one weekend. There were some people stalking us, but I didn’t see them. One second she was going back to a changing room to try something on, and the next? I couldn’t find her. Someone had grabbed her right out from under my nose.”
“Oh, my God.” Bianca backed away. “She was kidnapped?”
Sam nodded. “Those threats the family had received in Europe finally caught up to them. It was an international fiasco. The CIA and local police both got involved. They were halfway to bringing in Interpol when detectives finally found her at a warehouse nearby. She was all right, physically. Mentally… not so much. I only got to talk to her afterward because she insisted, so her father let me. By that point, I had been pulled off the job. I haven’t heard from her since she went back to Europe with her family. I have no idea how she’s doing.”
“Wow. I guess that explains a lot.”
“So you get it? Why I’m on your ass so much about security? Why I didn’t want to get too close?”
“I get it.” She slung an arm around Sam’s waist, pulling her tighter. “But remember, I’m not a teenager. I’m not Rosalie. I might not be as strong as you, but I’m mature and responsible enough to keep out of trouble.” Bianca shot her a coy smile. “Well, real trouble.”
Before Sam knew it, Bianca’s lips were on hers, kissing her in that sweet, irresistible way of hers. As Sam returned the kiss, there was only one thought on her mind.
I won’t let anything happen to you.
For years, Sam had operated under the assumption that emotions spelled trouble. She had to close them off and shut them down from an early age. And just when she’d thought it was safe to care about others again, it almost led to someone as sweet as Rosalie being killed.
Ripping herself away from all emotion and only focusing on logic, money, and business had been Sam’s survival mechanism for years. Emotions were dangerous. Feelings were trouble.
Yet as she smothered Bianca beneath her, covering her with hasty kisses, she began to question whether that was true.