Hating My Bodyguard

4. One hot bodyguard

Katlyn

THE Only thing I appreciated about my unwanted bodyguard was the fact that my life could turn back to somewhat normal, and fine, yes, he was a good scenery to look at. I mean, I hate the man for the way he looks at me with those judgemental eyes but I won’t deny that the man was a perfect specimen of british hotness with that little dimple that peeks only when he smiles and it’s as rare as the full moon. He was effortlessly sexy with his chiseled features that make my fingertips tingle like one would want to check the sharpness of a knife wondering if it would cut. And not to miss the way he brooded silently, cloaking himself in an aura that seemed equally irresistible as much as it felt dangerous to get closer to him. He could easily grace the front cover of any fashion magazine, captivating readers with his smoldering gaze and mysterious allure.

And I knew I wasn’t the only one to notice all these things about him. It hadn’t been more than five minutes since we stepped out of the car and he followed me inside the college campus— because my father wouldn’t have it any other way and just what I was afraid of, he was to be my literal shadow from now on— and every pair of eyes were on us, especially on him. In a black shirt paired with black slacks and a black belt with a gun holster in clear view for everyone to see, he sparked curiosity but more than that I could see the interest of the female students and how they whispered behind their hands, giggling like teenagers shown on a Netflix show.

I would've liked to postpone it a little longer but I decided having him at my back was much better than my parents fawning over me twenty-four seven, so I cut short my recovery bedrest and took hold of my life. Also starting college meant that I could've my own space, my own apartment. The only drawback will be the live in bodyguard, at least I will have Theo.

As I walked with him behind me, I could feel the way he towered over my five feet six inches frame even though he maintained a certain distance of two feet and I was wearing platform heels as they seemed college appropriat, but still he seemed to dwarf me and appeared larger than life the way he was grabbing everyone's attention.

One of the girls parted from the group as we neared the building in which my first class was. Thankfully, she was someone I called a friend so I didn't have to fake a smile, much. Jenny opened her arms giving me only a few seconds to be prepared for her sweet perfumed hug. I bit back my impulse to pull back as I awkwardly patted her back and ignored the slight discomfort from my injuries that still echoed with pain throughout my body at times. “Kat, I missed you!”

“I did too.” And I wasn't even lying.

I was the first to pull back from her, realizing that I had gradually grown disconnected from everything I had learned about appearing normal during my year confined in safe houses. As much as I wanted to come back and live my life like it used to be, it seemed I’d have to make much more effort that before while interacting with other people.

“When you texted I thought you were just coming to visit.” Jenny locked her arm around mine as we entered and made our way to the class.

“No. I’m going to finish this year on campus.” I replied and earned a big smile from her.

“That will be so great. We’ll have so much fun in our last year.” Then, she lowered her voice as she asked, “Is this your new bodyguard?” At my nod, she continued, “He is following us.”

“I know.”

“Is he going to follow you around the whole campus?” She asked, looking aghast.

“Unfortunately.” I answered, feeling his eyes on me all the while as we walked. “So what’s going on, give me all the gossip I missed.” I said, trying to pull her attention away from my bodyguard.

As Jenny gave me the rundown of everything that happened in the last year that I missed, many of my classmates interrupted her as they greeted me on our way. The group I used to hang out with ambushed us on the last turn of the corridor, their chorus of excited murmur and exclamations at my return had me less tense.

Oliver, who had been my friend since school, slung an arm around me and gave me a side hug as he said, “Good to have you back, Kat. Missed you!”

“Not more than me!” Emma pushed him aside as she hugged me. And soon I was sandwiched between them all, and my bodyguard was almost forgotten.

I say almost, because the moment we entered the class and settled in our seats the teacher entered. And then he froze as his eyes went to the back of the room, in unison every student’s head turned around to follow the teacher’s gaze, including me, and I realised what they were looking at.

My not so forgotten bodyguard was standing at the back with his arms crossed across his chest and staring back coldly at the teacher with that handsome face that looked carved from the stone for as much expression as he showed. He seemed like a statue that would come alive at a moment’s notice if need be.

“Anybody care to explain?” The teacher asked, unfortunately he seemed to be a new one and uninformed at that. “Why that man is standing there? And... Is that a gun!!?” He ended up on a panicked shriek, making me want to roll my eyes. If he only knew that I carried one too, I was just not brandishing it for everyone to see like my bodyguard.

But now because the teacher has pointed it out, the people who had not noticed the black gun holster around Z’s waist before were noticing it now and the murmurs started to raise until it became a chaos which resulted in most timid boys in my class running out of the class.

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A Few Hours Later...

“Damn, Kat, he is one hot bodyguard.” I ignored Emma as I sipped on my côke.

“So, is he really going to follow you around everywhere?” Oliver asked. “What if you have to use the washroom?” I looked at him and he held up his hands in surrender. “I was just curious.”

After the commotion that broke out in the classroom, I had to go to the director’s office to remind him that he had neglected to tell the teaching staff about my new bodyguard who will be accompanying me to all my classes. But even after that cleared up, that teacher: Mr Brown, was afraid to be in the same room as an armed man. But unlike him, the students have no such problem they seemed to be too fascinated with my bodyguard, especially girls, so many of them have flocked toward me in the last half an hour we have been in the cafeteria just to ask me for his contáct number that I have lost count now. And I gave them all an honest answer that I didn’t have it, they didn’t believe me.

So fûck them, who cares. I was already at the end of my patience. My knee was bouncing, my hands were fidgety and all I wanted was to scream loudly. But I couldn’t do any of those things, not with all the audience having their eyes glued on me. It wouldn’t be like that if not for that devastatingly beautiful man standing there with his eyes on me. He was like an attention magnet and unfortunately I was getting more than half of it because of him.

I slid my chair back and stood up. The movement was sudden enough that my friends sitting around the table stopped. “Excuse me.” I stretched my lips in a practiced smile and turned, making my way out of the cafeteria.

I felt the air change behind me and knew he was there, my shadow. Following me in silence without making a noise. Un. Deux. Trois. I started counting in French in my mind as my footsteps quickened and my fingers curled in fists. s**t. I didn’t miss my medicines then why was it happening, now of all time? With him there to witness it. I slammed the washroom door open and stepped inside but just as I turned around to close it, he was there to stop me.

I looked up at him and he stared back with silent, stoic expression. I haven’t said a word to him since this morning when he appeared at my father’s house to drive me to college and I didn’t want to now, but it seemed I was finally out of time. “Step back.”

“The door stays open.” Here's the answer to Oliver's question and I wasn't happy to find it out.

His voice was cold like London weather and yet I wanted to hear it again and again for the way words rolled off his tongue and how his deep voice struck something inside me. I channelled all the bitchiness from inside me as snapped, “You are out of your fûcking mind.”

“I am not coming inside and you can lock the door of the stalls. But this one stays open.”

“Zurich.”

“Katlyn.”

He was the only one who calls me that and I want to hate it. I gritted my teeth and because I knew I was about to lose it. After two quick breaths, I nodded. “Fine. I won’t lock it, just step back.”

He searched my face but like him I was also good at hiding my feelings, and after a few precious seconds, that I didn’t have to waste standing here, he gave me a single nod and took a step back. “If I hear the lock—” I slammed the door shut on his face before he could finish and turned the lock.

I think I heard him curse in that British accent, I smirked and turned to the washbasins lining the wall. I thrust my hands under the tap and as soon as the cold water started running, my mind took a step back from the edge before it could succumb to the disease permanently residing in my head. I pumped too much soap into my palms until it overflowed and then washed my hands.

I did it again and again. To the point I lost count. Until... A loud noise broke into the calm that was starting to settle over me like a fog and I turned to see Zurich standing there looking like he was about to strangle me with the way his eyes gleamed and how hard his jaw was clenched, all the while the ruined door hung behind him.

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A. Gupta