The Bodyguard's Temptress

Chapter 7

Knox

"Do you know why you're here?" Andre's voice is as cold as his glare. His eyes, dark and furious, pins me down as I sit across his desk, where lines of coke are waiting to be snorted. I knew I'd end up in the principal's office eventually, but not today. Not when Natasha's left vulnerable at the bakery with Brandon.

It's just another reason to finish off Johnathon Edwards. Instead of sewing his pathetic excuse for a c**k back on and enjoying the rest of his life, he snitched to Andre. "Snitches get stitches," they say. Apparently, that wasn't enough. Next time, maybe I'll carve out his f*****g eyeballs with a knife. My leg shakes with rage beneath the table as Andre's icy stare bores into me.

Natasha needs my protection, and I can't provide that stuck in Andre's hellhole. A man protecting a predator who preys on girls her age. A predator who would've taken Natasha for himself if I weren't there to stop it.

"I'm assuming it's because Johnathon Edwards cut off his own d**k?" I reply evenly, despite the storm raging inside me. My face remains a mask, but I can feel my patience wearing thin. The drumbeat in my head pounds, urging me to get back to Natasha.

She's only safe with me.

Andre slams his hands on the desk, rising to his feet with a sudden burst of fury. "You've nearly started a goddamn war!" he roars.

Even as he looms over me, aggression oozing from every pore, I stay calm. I've been a weapon all my life. Men like Andre don't scare me. If I have to die here today because I kept Natasha safe, so be it. Death doesn't scare me; leaving her unprotected does.

"John wants your head," Andre says, pacing behind his desk like a caged animal. "But I told him I can't do that. Can't traumatize Natasha any further. But John's an important business partner, and he's got the f*****g time and resources to hunt you down. You know what position that puts me in, Knox?"

I stay silent. I know he's not looking for an answer. He's just venting, playing out his power game. My lips remain sealed as he continues his tirade.

"He pointed out that, as Natasha's bodyguard, you're still one of my men. And he's right. Told you to leave him be, but you didn't listen. Now, disobedience isn't something I take lightly. Just remember my daughter's the only reason you're still breathing."

Natasha has unknowingly saved my life. I owe her now. Although, I want my appreciation gift to be something thoughtful. Like those damn delicious cookies she made me. I could've eaten a whole tray, and I'm not even a dessert guy.

Anything for you, Knox, her words echo in my head.

She has no idea what those words did to me. How they made me want her to show me exactly what she can do for me. I've seen a glimpse from her little show with the dildo.

Stop, Knox. She's untouchable, I remind myself.

She's an angel, untainted by the likes of me. And that's also why I can't allow her to take interest in this guy Brandon is introducing her to tomorrow. He not worthy of even breathing the same air as her.

"Now, John demands that you repay for what you did. Pick a hand, Knox," Andre orders, jerking me from my thoughts.

I nod, accepting what's coming. I'm sure whichever hand I choose, he'll go for the opposite. But he doesn't know I can use both hands interchangeably. No matter which one he severs, I'll adapt.

I lay my right hand flat on the desk, burying my emotions as he stumbles around to the other side without his cane. f**k. His eyes widen, his pupils dilated like large f*****g black holes. And he's planning to handle a knife. Maybe I should worry. This could go wrong in a hundred different ways, but I don't flinch.

Andre grabs a knife, twirling it in his hand. His eyes bounce between my hand and the blade, searching for fear. When he finds none, a scowl deepens his features.

The blade comes down fast, slicing through my flesh with a sickening squelch. Blood gushes as he severs my pinky and ring finger from my right hand. The pain is like a hot poker searing through my nerves, but I don't make a sound. Instead, I think of Natasha. Her smile. Her laugh. Her cookies.

I'm doing this for her.

My heart thunders in my chest. I close my eyes, focusing on steadying my breath. My hand hurts like a motherfucker, but I hold still as Andre snaps a picture of my mangled hand on his phone. Then, he hands me a cloth to wrap around it. "John will appreciate the proof," he mutters.

He calls for Marco, whose gaze flickers with sympathy as he looks at me. I'm sure this isn't the worst situation he's been called in here to clean up.

"Marco, put these in some f*****g ice and get Knox to Raphael," Andre barks. Marco nods and rushes off, returning quickly with a plastic bag filled with ice. Andre drops my severed fingers into it, handing it to me.

"We won't have to do this again. Will we, Knox?" Andre asks coolly.

My jaw clenches. "No, Sir."

Though It's a lie. I'd do it again for her. Endure any pain, any torture, even if it ends with my death. My little temptress doesn't even realize the chaos she ignites inside my heart.

Marco nods, and I stand, clutching the bag in my good hand. My legs wobble from the blood loss, but I manage to keep my balance. Andre watches me like a hawk, his eyes calculating, searching for any signs of weakness.

I guess cutting off my fingers wasn't satisfying enough for him. He wanted to hear me scream, to see me break. Because he knows he would've squealed like a f*****g pig in my shoes.

That's the difference between us. I'd sacrifice anything for Natasha. He could saw off my whole damn leg, and I'd still hop up and continue my duty of protecting her.

Except, I have no intentions of being a father figure to her. She's not a daughter I need to coddle. She's my angel to shield from this f****d up world. The fact that Andre stopped me from killing Edwards without a real explanation is a problem, and I won't stop until I find out what the f**k is going on.

—————————————————————

Raphael, Andre's doctor, swiftly reattaches my fingers thanks to the clean cut. I have to be thankful the cocaine didn't f**k up Andre's precision. Still, a cast for a few weeks and a long recovery lie ahead.

I expected Marco to drop me off and leave, but after the long surgery, which took over eighteen hours. But once I wake up, he walks in the room, shutting the door behind him. Leaning against it, arms folded, his cold eyes meet mine. "I watched Natasha while you were out," he says, his voice sharp as a blade. "She's safe at home, though she seemed quite worried about your absence."

I nod curtly, but inside, relief surges through me. At least Natasha didn't think I just abandoned her. Being away from her so long was unavoidable, but it's not like I can explain to her what happened.

"Thank you, Knox...for what you did for my niece," Marco says quietly.

My throat feels raw from the surgery and blood loss. I manage to respond, though my voice sounds like sandpaper scraping against stone. "No problem. How did she get caught up in that?"

Marco hands me a glass of water. I eye it suspiciously, wondering if it has been laced with something. Is this how Andre plans to finish me off? Since he couldn't draw a reaction from me, has he deemed me a threat?

Marco laughs at my skepticism. "I swear, it's just water. Andre has no intention of killing you today."

I don't miss the way he says 'today'. Andre hasn't ruled it out in the future, should I become too much of a problem. Younger me followed orders without question, but those days are long gone. My loyalty lies solely with Natasha.

"About what happened to Clarissa...they spiked the wrong drink. It was supposed to be the girl next to her. I believe Edwards also wanted Natasha, but you left with her before it could happen. Andre was so coked up, he wouldn't have noticed she was gone until it was too late."

My molars gnash together, but I hold back the murderous thoughts.

"This is why Natasha needs you," he continues, his voice tinged with worry. "Andre won't admit it, but continuing to drown in his grief will only hurt her in the end. Right now, every powerful man in his circle is eyeing Natasha for marriage, hoping for an alliance with him."

Over my dead f*****g body.

"Andre's been looking for potential 'suiters', ones that will strengthen his influence in the Midwest. Better be glad Edwards didn't have more to offer, or she'd be on her way to being his third wife by now."

My eyes narrow to slits. "Why are you telling me all of this?"

He gives me a knowing look. "Because you seem like the type of man that can do something about it. Nobody has ever disobeyed Andre and lived to tell about it. That means he also recognizes that you can protect Natasha from his self-destruction."

I don't trust Marco or any of Andre's men, but if Marco's right, then this definitely won't be the last time I go against Andre's orders. I'll just have to work from the shadows to keep her safe.

And if I get caught again, that's fine—I've still got eight fingers left to lose.