The Bodyguard's Temptress

Chapter 16

Knox

Damnit. If her best friend hadn't interrupted us, I would've tasted the sweetness of her tongue by now. Who am I kidding? We would probably be f*****g right now. My s****l frustration is damn near driving me insane. I'm so hard, I could probably chop down a tree with just my d**k.

Brandon trails behind me into the woods behind my cabin, our footsteps crunching on fallen leaves. I carry an axe over my shoulder, along with a bag of supplies. The pain in my injured hand, which has only been healing for a few days, throbs relentlessly. That's why I brought Brandon along. When the pain gets unbearable, he'll have to take over.

We stop where a group of taller, dying trees stand, their skeletal branches reaching towards the grey sky like twisted fingers. They've been here way longer than I have, but each year, I plant new trees to maintain the ecosystem and ensure I can always get firewood if needed.

I steady the axe in my good hand, taking a deep breath. I swing hard, the blade biting into the wood with a resounding thud. Despite putting most of the work on my good hand, pain shoots through my injured one, making me wince.

"s**t," I hiss, my voice rough with pain and frustration.

"Are you okay?" Brandon asks, worry clouding his features.

I grit my teeth. "Just overexerted myself, that's all."

Andre would revel in the fact that his little 'punishment' is slowing me down. Worse, it's stopping me from taking care of his daughter the way I need to. Maybe that was his goal. First, weaken me, and then have his own daughter kidnapped, so he could have a reason to kill me.

That son of a b***h actually thinks he's clever.

Snapping me from my thoughts, Brandon steps forward, determination in his blue eyes. "I-I can do it," he volunteers, reaching for the axe.

I hand it over, watching as he grasps the handle with both gloved hands. Depending on if he can actually cut down a tree or not remains questionable. We might have to make do with just one and hope it lasts until we can get more.

"Damn, it's heavier than I thought," Brandon comments with a nervous laugh. "You could really kill someone with this thing."

"Yeah, you could. Try not to kill yourself," I grumble, settling down on a large rock.

"What kind of trees are these?" Brandon inquires, his voice tinged with curiosity as he glances back at me.

"Oak."

I don't know why that matters. He's going to struggle no matter what.

"Alright, don't judge me. I've never done this before," he warns, gripping the axe with uncertainty. I watch as he weakly swings it, barely making a dent in the wood.

"Harder," I command gruffly. "And chop at an angle. We'll be here all day if you do it like that."

I can already see sweat beading on his forehead. My little temptress was right, but I'm going to need him to get his s**t together. It will probably start showing soon—the first snow of winter. In case there's a snowstorm, and we're snowed in, we need enough firewood to not freeze our asses off. There's plenty of food and I could always hunt if needed. I just want to make sure Natasha is as comfortable as possible since we're in hiding for now.

"Natasha must be pissed you told her she couldn't come. She doesn't like being left out," Brandon says, trying to make conversation.

I answer sternly, fixing my gaze on the tree, "She's safer inside."

I can actually breathe knowing she's in the cabin safe and sound. That's why I asked her to bake cookies; I know it will help her relax, maybe even put a smile on her face. And I wasn't just saying I wanted some just to distract her, I meant it.

Brandon swings the axe again, this time with a bit more accuracy, but still lacking the necessary force. I flex my hand, preparing myself to take over. I'm tired as s**t and I appreciate his effort, but I really don't want to be out here all day when I could be inside with my baby girl.

As I push myself up, Brandon stops me. "Knox, I've got this. You shouldn't be pushing yourself with that cast on," he insists, pointing at my injured hand. "It could get infected or worse."'

I scowl. Like I could give a damn about that right now.

"Give me the axe, Lewis," I demand, striding towards him. He takes another swing at the tree, this time putting more force behind it.

"I can't," he grits out, sweating dripping down his face. "Nat would kill me if she knew you were hurting yourself and I let it happen. I won't let her down again."

I reach for it again, but he ignores me, his resolve unwavering. Clenching my jaw, I go to sit back down.

Fine. If the kid wants to kill himself, who am I to stop him?

After what feels like an eternity, the tree crashes down with a thunderous roar, sending nearby birds flying and small creatures scurrying.

Brandon wipes his brow, breathing heavily. "Holy s**t, this looked way easier on t****k," he between gasps for breaths.

I scoff under my breath, imaging him watching buff, shirtless guys effortlessly chopping wood for internet attention.

What did you do before being Nat's bodyguard?" Brandon asks, collapsing on the rock beside me. I quickly hand him a bottle of water, since he looks like he's about to pass out.

"Special ops," I reply tersely.

"For how long?"

"Ten years. Joined when I was twenty."

Right after my mom died.

His eyes widen. "Wow, you must have stories for days."

"Not ones that won't give you nightmares," I mumble, memories of missions and horrors flickering through my mind.

"I think I gained my trauma stripes after what happened at the bakery. Believe it or not, that's the worse thing that's ever happened to me, and still, it was nowhere near as bad as what Natasha went through, and was about to go through again because of me."

The pain is evident in his voice. He carries his own guilt and fear, just as I carry mine. Maybe I have been just a little too hard on him.

"Although I don't like how everything played out, I'm glad she still has you. It would've f****d her up if something happened to you because of the men that were after her," I tell him.

It's the truth. Natasha only has me and him. When this ends, I need to know she still has someone to take care of her.

Brandon drains his bottle of water in one long gulp and grabs another. "Thanks, Knox. I'll be better for her, I promise. Maybe I could even learn how to shoot a gun."

I nod, acknowledging his determination. "Maybe. But for now, we need to finish chopping this tree into cords. It's starting to snow."

He shivers, glancing up at the sky where the first flakes are starting to fall. "Got it." Standing up, he picks up the axe again. After I show him the proper technique, he resumes chopping the tree into smaller, manageable pieces.

"You know, I was just thinking that nobody will care when they find out I just vanished," he muses, his tone casual, but there's a depth of sadness in his eyes.

I know his parents are deceased, and he was raised by his aunt and uncle. Of course, he doesn't know I know that.

"No family?" I ask, keeping my voice neutral.

He shakes his head, jaw tightening. "I was too afraid to come out to my aunt and uncle, so I moved out on my own. They're kinda homophobic, giant bible thumpers. They'd never speak to me again in life if they found out."

"Then they're not the kind of people you need in your life," I reply, my tone softer. "A close friend of mine is gay, and he had the same problem with his family. He cut them off and chose his own peace and happiness."

Brandon's eyes brim with tears. "Thanks, Knox," he says, wrapping his arms around me. I stiffen at the sudden contact, but don't push him away. The kid needs something he hasn't had a long time—support.

"Uh, you're welcome," I respond, awkwardly patting his back.

I did not expect to bond with him in the middle of the forest today, but I guess here we are.

After a moment, he pulls away and quickly wipes his eyes. His voice catches slightly as he speaks. "I can see why Nat feels the way she does about you. You're a good man," he says. Before I can respond, he resumes chopping, the rhythmic sound of the axe chopping through wood echoing through the quiet forest.

The snow falls harder, the cold air biting at my exposed skin, making my fingers ache even more. I watch Brandon as he works; his inexperience is still evident, but he's grown more determined in the few hours that we've been out here. It's definitely something I can respect.

By the time the tree is chopped into logs, the ground is covered in a thin layer of snow. We gather the wood, piling it neatly.

"Alright, let's get this s**t back to the cabin," I say, hefting a bundle over my shoulder, ignoring the pain radiating through my hand.

Yeah, I think I'll probably be taking the whole damn bottle of pain pills tonight.

"You did a good job today," I tell Brandon.

A small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. "Thanks, Knox."

As we head back to the cabin, a mixture of sweet and savory aromas fill the air. Natasha is in the kitchen, pulling a pan of cookies out of the oven, while three already sit on the counter. When she turns and grins, her green eyes light up the room.

"Welcome home, guys! Both dinner and dessert are ready!" she announces cheerfully.