Chapter 11
Bastien
Past
“There you are!” I hear Olivia's voice getting closer. I'd been hiding from her for the last few weeks. She's the one person I couldn't bear to talk to.
And she finally found me.
I ignored her, and whipped another beer bottle at the side of the abandoned mill. It smashed out a window on the second floor.
“Bastien, Trish and I have been looking all over for you.” Olivia looked around at the decaying mill district, mildly disgusted. A girl like her, who’s lived in the nicer areas of Boston all her life, didn't belong in places like this. “Is this where you've been staying?”
Only for the last week. I'd been traveling around since I ran away, sleeping wherever I could and fighting for whatever I could get.
Olivia was all bundled up in her nice new winter clothes. She may have been an outsider at school but, her family was still loaded. She always had expensive clothing. In the poorer parts of South Boston, she stuck out like an easy target.
This was a dangerous place; I had to get her out of her as quickly as possible.
“You shouldn't be here.” I threw another bottle. It shattered on a crumbling brick wall. The cops barely came to this area in Southie, so I could be as destructive as I wanted and no one would say shit.
“How long are you going to do this for?” She didn't seem concerned about her own safety at all, probably because she didn't know the area well.
For such a smart girl she could be pretty stupid sometimes.
“Until the bottles run out, I guess.” I shrugged.
“You know that's not what I mean.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, Olivia?” I finally turned and looked at her; it was something I was hoping to avoid. I was angry all the time now. It was the only thing that kept me going anymore. The compassion and concern in her soft blue eyes ripped me to shreds. “My father's dead!”
Please just leave me alone, Olivia.
“You don't have to go through this alone, Bastien. Ms. Lane is worried sick about you.” Olivia's voice was a thick blanket in the bitter cold, soft, warm and comforting. All she wanted was to help me. I had fallen overboard and she had thrown me a life preserver. “It's alright to grieve. Please, just come home.”
“Home... I guess that's what Boston is now, huh? You don't have to worry about me going very far now.” The words rose in my throat like bile, there was no stopping them. It was like the end of a sad movie that you'd seen a hundred times. You'd give anything to change the outcome, but all you could do was watch the events unfold. I lashed out at her, saying the worst thing I could think of. “Looks like you got what you wanted.”
Immediately my eyes snapped away.
I couldn't bear to see the look on her face. I couldn't bear to hurt the person I cared about the most, but I had to. I was too damaged now; I'd only drag her down. I knew she cared about me, but it was better for her if she just gave up on me and moved on.
It’d be better for me if I stopped hoping things could be different.
I never looked back at Olivia after that. All I heard was muted crying and the snowy crunch of footsteps walking away.
I was truly alone now.
Present.
“You're seriously leaving?” Of all people, I didn't think she'd be the one to bail on me.
“I'm sorry. I’ve spent the last twelve hours trying to get out of it. I'm under contract to appear on that talk show, they could sue me if I don't show up.” Olivia tried to explain, but I wasn’t hearing any of it.
All it sounded like to me were excuses.
“So, what? Your stepmom is in the hospital. She needs you.” I gave Olivia a hard look. I was pissed at Trisha's driver for letting that happen and at Delvin for abandoning her and not telling us what really happened.
“If they sue me, Bastien—” Olivia’s brows were turned up in a pleading expression. “I’m ruined.”
“Y'know what, Olivia? Go.” I felt that too familiar rage take over and couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. Olivia hesitated, but I was already too angry to stop. “Go be your father's daughter.”
Olivia was stunned. She started to retort, to attack me back, but ultimately decided against it. A part of her felt the truth in my words, and knew how much she had changed over the years.
“I might’ve changed, but you sure as hell haven’t.” Olivia narrowed her eyes at me, touched Trish’s knee one last time, then left.
I stewed there for a few minutes. When my anger finally diffused, I began to feel guilty. She still shouldn't have left, but I shouldn't have been so damn hard on her either.
I blew out my air and rubbed my face.
Why couldn’t I control my damn anger? I didn’t want to be mean to her. It's just when my anger gets going, I lose control.
“You don't know what that poor girl's been through, Bastien.” Trish’s voice was weak, but still stern.
“You’re awake?” I pulled up a chair next to her so she wouldn't have to talk so loud.
“She broke into acting all by herself. Delvin didn't help her in any way.”
“What?” That was insane! Delvin was a callous prick to those around him, but Olivia's his own daughter. “Why the hell not? With all the connections he had, it'd have been nothing to get her into a few good roles.”
Why was he always so hard on her? It never made any sense.
“I asked him the same thing. He told me that he had done it on his own so she should too. I didn’t agree with him. But I don’t agree with him about a lot of things.”
“Why are you still with him? Delvin—” I began, but she cut me off. I didn't blame her for that; the doctors had her on a cocktail of pain meds.
“That first day when you came back to be Olivia's bodyguard, I whispered something to her.” She took a moment. Even breathing was difficult for her. When she regained her breath, the concern in her face made me feel like I was the one in the car accident. “I told her that you needed her as much as she needed you. I told her that you were still lost. I hoped Olivia could bring you back to us. Frankly, I don't know how you're still alive. I miss you, Bastien. Olivia misses you too.”
Misses? She made it sound like I was still gone.
I sighed. It was really great to reconnect with Olivia, but part of me was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was like I always had one foot out the door, and was just waiting for another reason to abandon her again.
I hated thinking that way.
“At some point, Bastien,” Trish grabbed my hand. The hard look in her eyes made me think that she might not be as drugged up as I thought she was, “you need to either come home, or leave for good.”
From her tightening grip, I knew which of the two options she hoped I'd take. Trish cocked her head to the door, in a gesture for me to figure out which one it was going to be.
She was right, as always. It was time to decide.
I kissed her on the forehead and said my goodbye.
Later.
I needed to see Olivia one last time before I left for good.
But because of roadwork and an accident, it took me forever to get downtown from the hospital and even longer to convince the production office at the network building where they were filming the talk show that I was Olivia’s bodyguard and should be allowed inside.
I’d always hated Manhattan, there were too many idiots and assholes, and they all thought their time was more important than anyone else’s.
By the time they ran my credentials and got my badge the show had already started, so they put me in the empty green room until Olivia was finished. I impatiently settled into the plush couch and watched the monitor above the snack table. It was a live feed so you could see what was happening on the show in real time.
I didn’t need the monitor’s speaker to hear the audience cheer as Olivia walked on stage. I could feel it through the walls. She was all smiles and waves as she made her way to the couch next to the host.
Olivia wore a white dress with black sleeves and buttons up her chest. Her dirty blond hair was pulled back except for two side-swooping bangs that framed her face perfectly. It was a casual look, but she rocked the hell out of that outfit.
Olivia looked amazing.
Even with one foot practically out the door, I still wanted to finish what we started. My cock hardened at the thought of pulling up her dress and tearing off her underwear again.
I was too busy with my fantasy to hear what the host asked her, but I snapped back in time to see Olivia struggle with the question.
I felt like shit for saying what I did, especially right before she was going on television. I scolded myself for being such a selfish asshole sometimes.
“Aw shit, yeah! I didn't know Olivia Ward was going to be here tonight!” The younger of the two craft service guys exclaimed excitedly as they entered the small room.
Each was carrying a tray, one of snacks and one of desserts. The older man placed the tray on the table and plugged in the toaster over. In doing so, he knocked out the power to the monitor.
“Every damn time,” the elder of the two grumbled.
“Hurry up, dude! If I miss a wardrobe malfunction, I'm gonna be pissed,” the younger blond man whined. I overheard crude shit about Olivia every once in a while; she was a movie star after all. Normal or not, it still drove me crazy. It took all the willpower I had not beat some manners into guys like that.
Sometimes if it was bad enough, I couldn’t stop myself.
I was the only one that should be talking dirty to her. I breathed, calming down and forcing myself to remember the decision that I made.
“Keep your pants on, Blake,” the older man said, fidgeting with the outlet. “The outlet’s faulty.”
“She's got some bangin' tits, yo,” Blake prattled on. I felt my ire rising, and got up to leave the room before I made a scene. I reminded myself that I was here to apologize to Olivia, not embarrass her. “You think they're real? Shit, you think she'd let me check? Yo, I've wanted to bend that bitch over since—”
Something snapped in me as I walked by.
Instincts kicked in. Before I even knew what happened, the tray the blond piece of shit was holding was flipped into the air and I had him pinned to the wall by his neck.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” my voice came out as a low growl. “That’s my client.”
I was inches away from the kid's face. Blake's eyes flashed again, realizing the depth of shit he stepped into. I could snap his neck from this position.
Blake was so terrified at the explosion of motion that urine ran down his leg.
“Oh, goddammit, Blake! The older man got up and patted the air to defuse the situation. He glanced at my badge. Below my name it read private security. “Mr. Kontos, I am so sorry about my nephew. He's an idiot, but he meant no harm. Please let him go.”
I pushed in harder, then came to my senses and let him go. Blake gasped and slumped against the wall.
“Fuck. Sorry.” Blake groaned the words out between coughs. “Didn’t know she was your client.”
She was so much more to me than just that.
Maybe Olivia was right. Maybe I hadn’t changed at all.
That was yet another reason why I didn't belong here. I left the green room and made my way out onto the bustling Manhattan streets.
I needed some air.
I had to shove my way past a guy in a green hoodie that was hovering near the studio's entrance. I was about to yell at him for being in my way, but I realized it was just my anger at the situation that had me so riled up. I leaned against my car, which was parked in the curbside valet and tried to clear my head.
It hadn't even been five minutes and I was about to get into another fight, seriously?
Olivia made me crazy. What the fuck was I thinking coming here? I should've just left her a note and moved on.
I was hired to protect her from the shit that happened to Trish and what have I done so far? I've nearly fucked the shit out of her in a Jacuzzi and complicated her career. Not to mention nearly crippling some asshole, because of insane jealousy.
I'm not a bodyguard, I'm a fighter. I was lying to myself when I thought I could protect Olivia. I couldn't even protect her from myself, let alone any real threats out there. She needs someone who isn't distracted by wanting to fuck her all the time.
I couldn't do this anymore; it's why I left in the first place. I was fooling myself. It was always going to be like this. I had to come to terms with that.
I pulled out my phone and had my assistants start looking around for the best real bodyguard money could hire. Then I did the one thing besides fucking, that I was ever any good at.
It was the only thing that made any sense.
“Bastien?” The familiar voice on the other line asked with disbelief.
“Yeah, it's me,” I said to Abeo, my old fight contact. “Set something up for me.”
“What?” Abeo stumbled to believe what he was hearing. “Aren’t you doing private security for that billionaire John Warwick these days?”
“Something like that,” I said. Abeo wouldn’t have believed me if I told him. Not that I would’ve anyways. I liked Abeo, but I sure as hell never trusted him. “I need to blow off some steam.”
“You’ve been out of the game for years, man. You sure you want to do this? You remember what happened to Louis...” Abeo's voice trailed off. “You barely made it out alive yourself last time.”
I thought on that, remembering. I could still hear the cheers of the bloodthirsty crowd, while my friend Louis was beaten to death in the ring right in front of me. Some things you just couldn’t shake.
Then I thought of Olivia and the night I left her forever. That was a completely different kind of pain; it wasn't dull and heavy like Louis. Olivia was a slow knife, being slid between my ribs. Being so close to her and not having her wasn't a pain I could live with.
Sorry, Trish. I couldn't be what either of you wanted.
If I couldn't have all of Olivia, then I couldn't have any of her.
“Just set it up, Abeo.”