Rescued by my Bodyguard

Chapter Four

Before walking over, I zipped up the jumper so that Alex Hayes would not be able to see my curves. No need to tease him with what I know my body looks like. A flat stomach with abs visible, two curves, and a descent sized chest inherited from my beautiful mother. I had tied my hair back in a braid, but several of the golden locks fell lose from the clumsy tie on their own accord. I liked that my hair was untamable, just like me. I was not going to stick around him for long. My favorite trail through the North Carolina woods behind the manor was waiting for me. 

“Good morning.” Alex said in my approach and glanced at what I was wearing. 

I might have zipped up the jumper but he definitely noticed my sculpted calves and thighs from my regular jogs. I don’t care if he finds me attractive as well. I have worked hard in my morning routine to be physically fit and I don’t mind showing it off a bit. 

“Morning. How are your rooms?” I asked to try to be polite and ignore his lingering glance on my legs. 

Alex turned his attention back to the last piece of an expensive beige envelop that the stalker sent me in New York. He never wrote a letter. He only ever included specifically three photos of me, letting me know that he was watching from afar. My uncle hated it. To me, yes it was discomforting but it also felt like way the paparazzi had made me feel and that had occurred throughout my entire life. I was used to it. However, the paparazzi’s photos were taken for financial gain. This intruder on my privacy took these for his own sick pleasure. 

The last three were me meeting my best friend Danny for coffee in SoHo. A long white trench coat with big black wooden buttons suited my figure well that day, I thought glancing at the picture. At least the bastard was a good photographer. 

“Sufficient, thank you. You are going for a run?” Alex asked me placing down the photo and looking over my body again. 

Was he just giving me that interrogating look to address my intent to go for a jog, or is actually unashamedly admiring my body?

“Yeah, I go five times a week on a trail in the woods behind the manor for five miles. I always have.” I said proudly that I maintained that kind of discipline with my busy schedule when I took a run here or around Central Park when I was back in New York. 

The mountain scape of North Carolina was not at all the same as a run around Central Park. I would be alone, free, and able to intake the cool clear mountain air. The air lacking the pollution of New York and its nasty city scent I often found stifling. By coming here and specifically told to stay by my uncle for my own protection rather than out at social events made my jogs easier. It was at least one benefit of being at the manor now. 

“I am afraid that I will have to run with you.” Alex said standing and removing his suit jacket. 

Under his black suit jacket was a white shirt with a loose collar that he now removed the tie of and black pants with the familiar brown belt that was a perfect contrast to his dark hair and matched his eyes. To my shock he was also wearing a dark leather gun holster around either shoulder with a gun latched in it on his right. I had no idea he was armed. The way that he is wearing that so casually has me believing he is always wearing that halter and gun. 

Was he serious? As he began to fold up the cuffs of his shirt, I realized he was not kidding. 

“In your suit?” I asked bewildered. 

“I am an ex special forces detail for many politicians who could afford me. Trust me, I can jog in a suit.” He said folding over the other cuff of his shirt with a cavalier smile.

“I don’t like running with anyone else.” I said flicking my hand to my hip to refuse this ridiculous notion. 

“I will stay behind you. You will not even know that I am there.”

“I said no.” I said with more force under my breath than I could hold back.

Alex looked upset, but not as much as I was. Running was my meditation. It was the one thing I had in this world that was not open to speculation from anyone and I could do in my own solace with no one else present. I was not about to be self-conscious with him following me and staring at my ass while I wanted to think things over. He only studied me, finishing with the folds of his shirt and waiting for me to start running so that he could follow regardless if I told him not to. I guess this dog did not know the word No. It is a word he is going to hear a lot from me.  

“Fine. I will use the f*****g gym, then.” I said in a scoff and turned back inside to my manor.

I went straight to my private gym and punished myself for an hour on the treadmill with the blasting music of Apocalyptica from my surround speakers. It was my favorite band. A most unique Finnish creation of Classical mixed with Hardcore Punk. The group played cellos and were just as likely to smash one on their stage as play something from Beethoven.

Now my runs have been taken away from me too! My manor is gorgeous yes, but I feel like a caged cat here not like I am on vacation. The little disruption to my life that Alex Hayes and my uncle Xavier had insisted was not what I was feeling right now. 

“I am sorry that this arrangement is going to take some adjustment for you.” Alex startled me standing outside my private gym as I emerged with a towel around my shoulders. 

His shirt was still folded up as he stood in the doorway. I wish I did not find chiseled muscles so attractive as my glance unintentionally followed the strictly solid lines of his arms. 

“Adjustment.” I repeated that word with contempt. “I hate this arrangement. I suppose that is obvious?”

“You have made it clear yes.” He offered with a smile, which I returned. 

He thought that my attempt to refuse his services was futile. And I have to admit he was right. I was such a stubborn woman. I was making the situation impossible and it didn’t have to be. I needed to change tactics. If I have no choice about Alex Hayes being here, then I needed to find some middle ground to make this work. I was never one for being flexible, but maybe it was time I learned to be. 

“I am sorry. I should not blame you for this Mr. Hayes but I am a fiercely independent woman. The way that I live my life has forced me to be that way because of my inheritance and standing as the owner of my family’s company. De Lourie generations have built my family name to hold pride in the community. After the death of my parents and brother, all of that responsibility has shifted to me under my uncle’s support.”

My uncle was the CEO of my family’s company, which I was glad of. I did not yet have the stamina for that throne. After my brother’s death I became the major stock holder and therefore the face of the name. 

“That must be hard for a young woman who is only twenty-five. And you do not like being told what to do?”

“Exactly.” I said with proud smile. 

“I will cause as little disruption to your life as I can.” He repeated that statement and I was sure that disruption was definitely going to take place. However, how much disruption could be up to me. 

“Fine.” I said trying to agree knowing that if I don’t then this is just going to be miserable. 

“And you may call me Alex.”

“Alright Alex. I will do my best not to be impossible. I know that you are just trying to keep me alive.” I consented to the situation.

Alex is going to be around me. There is nothing that I can do about it so I may as well settle to it and not be a… well if I am going to be honest with myself, not be a b***h. 

“Thank you, it would be nice not to have to fight you around every corner. May I speak with you about the photos that the assailant is sending and the phone calls that occur the following day?”

I had only referred to my stalker as bastard, sicko, creep, psycho, or maniac and so had my uncle. Alex Hayes definition as him being an assailant is a slap of reality. This man out there is a criminal. 

“What has my uncle Xavier told you?” I asked as we both started to walk down the manor hallway and I put on my jumper modestly zipping it up again to cover my showing skin. 

The manor might bring playful memories of my childhood back hiding in the expansive rooms and hallways from my brother during hide and seek. But I know what it is worth too. It is nearly equal to the old Vanderbilt Mansion in Biltmore and similar in architectural style. Five stories make it the size of a castle. A grand dining room that could entertain fifty attaches to a ballroom. A black wood sculpted fire place beneath eighteenth century artworks is the catapult of the main library. A stone conservatory with lush greenery can be enjoyed in the winter months. A wine cellar below ground level has a storage of everything from Chateaux Margaux, Montrachet, to the best of Sonoma and Napa Valley. Three kitchens, a billiard room and indoor and outdoor pool are just some of the highlights of the luxury estate. Not a bad place to be trapped. 

“That you have a stalker.” Was Alex’s bleak response. 

“Yes, unfortunately. As you already know he sends an envelope with exactly three pictures of me out with my friends, which is why I have travelled to this manor and not remained in New York. He has scared me out of my own city.” I said honestly upset the stalker had somehow managed to force my own movements which were an attempt to avoid him. 

“Have you ever felt that you were being followed?”

“Yes, sometimes. It is hard because I am used to feeling followed. The paparazzi always take photos of me. Seeing a camera is something that I am used to. And then there are the phone calls.” I said still unsure how the stalker managed to get my private number and having changed it several times after the calls started. 

“Yes, it seems he has followed you here because he called you the first night of your arrival at your family’s manor. That is why your uncle contacted me.”

“Yeah, two nights ago there was another call. The photos always arrive on a Thursday, usually in the afternoon. The phone call is always at five o’clock on Friday. Nothing but dark raspy breathing on the other end of the line. I hung up, like I always do the second that he says my name. Bethany, he calls me. It sends shivers down my spine.”

“He calls you Bethany not as Beth like you prefer? That is interesting. Has anyone ever just called you Bethany, or Bethany Anne, other than your uncle?”

I had to think about that for a few moments. There was one person that called me Bethany and not Beth; my ex, Richard Taylor. A generationally wealthy heir to a fortune and a ruthless business man. He called me Bethany because he knew that it annoyed me and found that entertaining. 

“A man that I broke up with last year after my brother passed away. His name is Richard Taylor. But the photos and the calls were coming before I got together with him. They started two years ago.”

“How did Mr. Taylor take your break up?”

“Not well. Listen do we have to discuss my personal life right now? I feel like a suspect talking to a detective.”

“Sorry, I often have that effect. However, it is possible that you might know who this man is rather than him being a complete stranger. So, we should look at your history. When you say Mr. Taylor did not take it well, what do you mean?”

“Richard kept calling me. Delivered flowers. Constantly said how he wanted to get back together…” I droned on about the expected way that Richard had behaved like any ex that didn’t want to end a relationship. 

Sometimes I thought about getting back together with Richard, but honestly there was just no interest there. Once we broke up, I knew that I didn’t have any strong feelings for him. And I am just not the kind of woman that is easy to become friends with after having something physical. If I feel the brush of attraction again, I act upon it, and it was not a good idea to send mixed signals to an ex so I always cut the ties, sometimes brutally but always necessarily. 

“I will have to consider him.” Alex said with a nod. 

I thought about offering to defend Richard right now. I did not believe that he was capable of this. But even only having just met Alex Hayes, I think he will investigate Richard whether or not I tell him it wasn’t necessary. Sorry, Richard. 

“Have you recognized the man’s voice at all when he calls? Your uncle told me that a call has never been able to be traced by the police.”

“No, I don’t recognize his voice. And no, we have not been able to trace the calls. Because he always calls at the same time on a Friday, the police came several weeks at a time. They have not been able to get anything. There is not even much in the way of ambient noises in the background. The police say it means that he is good with computers and probably has some advanced equipment. A few times I did not hang up and just waited if they could trace the line. But then he hangs up seconds before they land anything. That was always in New York when they were investigating. They gave up and the case went cold. It has become something that I have learnt to deal with. But, now that he has followed me here, my uncle thinks he is dangerous.”

“I agree with your uncle. I believe this stalker of yours is escalating. The frequency of the delivery of the photographs have increased, and so have the phone calls. We have to consider that he is likely going to try to meet you in private. Do you have a gun?” Was the last question that I expected.