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I WAS SITTING IN MY office, knowing a confrontation was coming. I was staring out my window when it happened. When the realization dawned on my mind, I knew I couldn’t run from it, and I knew it would consume me if I didn’t do anything about it. So long as I knew what was going on, I had to keep people around me informed.
But this was going to be addressed before I went to bed tonight.
I twirled my pen around in my hand as I watched men run around the perimeter of my home. Their guns were drawn, and their shadows were imprinted on the outline of the trees behind them. It was coming. The culmination of everything I had worked to bury. Secrets and lies and thresholds I had breached. Lines I had toed playfully thinking this was all a simple, innocent game. Faces I tried to save and facades I tried to keep while convincing myself this wasn’t serious and convincing myself I wasn’t in her crosshairs.
But I was. Every second of every day, she was there lying in wait with her eyes heavy on me. She was clocking my every move, making sure I stayed underneath her thumb as she tried to get me to bend to her every whim. I was nervous. My leg was bouncing, and my breath was coming in short spurts. I twirled my pen faster, trying to relieve some of the nervous energy cruising around in my system.
Then, I heard the slamming of my front door as I turned around in my chair.
Footsteps were hard on my staircase as I sat there waiting to meet my end. Waiting to spill all of my contents onto the floor at the feet of the person who kept me within her grasp. I stood from my leather chair, a calm overtaking my entire body. I slid my pen into my pocket and leaned against my desk, my hands sliding into my pockets as I watched my doorknob turn.
This was it. My moment of final reckoning.
I looked up and saw Sam, her gun drawn as she cleared the room, but when her gaze landed on my body, I watched her falter.
Like I always did whenever I was in her presence.
“Close the door,” I said.
“John’s outside. I have to case the rest of the—”
“Get inside and close the door,” I said calmly.
She looked back out into the hallway, probably at John. I could see his shadow looming around the corner, but I couldn’t see him. Sam eyed me curiously as she slid through the door, closing it behind her as she pressed her back to it. She holstered her gun, her eyes darting around before they flew out the window.
She was watching men run around my backyard, trying to figure out what the hell had me so spooked.
But it was her. It had been her from the moment I saw her leaning back at my desk in my office.
“Derek, what’s going on? What happened?” Sam asked. “My team can’t find any threats. Everything is clear. Did someone find you? Shoot at you? Breach your property?”
“There wasn’t an emergency,” I said. “I lied.”
Sam’s eyes finally met mine, and I knew I had her attention.
“Derek, what the hell are you talking about?”
“I want to be more than just your client,” I said.
I watched her back straighten as she leaned heavily against the door.
“Are you fucking serious?” she asked. “You faked an emergency so you could tell me you wanted to sleep with me more?”
“Not sleep with you. Engage with you. Interact with you. Take you to dinner. Wine you and dine you. Experience you here, late at night in my arms.”
“Your life is in danger, and you’re concerned about who you’re going to date? I think you’re crazy. I think you’ve gone full mental on me.”
“I want to be more than just your client,” I said.
“Well, you can’t be,” she said. “I’m hired by you to protect you, not be your girlfriend. You can’t pay me and have me be your girlfriend.”
“You’re already faking it to a couple of people. Why not make it official?”
“Because that’s two ticks short of being a hired escort, which is something I’m not. I’m your security guard. Your bodyguard sent here to protect you from whoever the fuck’s trying to kill you, Derek.”
“You’re not leaving until we talk about this.”
“The only person who has any control in this arena right now is me. And if I feel you’ve been psychologically compromised, I’ll remove you in a heartbeat.”
“Whisk me away to the funny farm because I want to have a relationship with you?” I asked. “Are you that afraid of being vulnerable with me?”
“I knew this was a mistake,” she said as she shook her head. “I knew it was a mistake the moment you stepped into that bathroom in Vegas, and I should’ve listened to my gut. But this is over between the two of us. Whatever this little dance is, it’s done.”
“Is that really what you want? Do I have to give you permission to enjoy yourself again?”
“You don’t have to give me permission to do anything! Mark my words, Derek Steele, when this is over, and I figure out who the hell’s trying to kill you, I’m moving onto the next job. Chemistry is one thing, but this isn’t even real. Everything you’re feeling right now is heightened by the fact that you’re in danger and that I’m trying to keep you from it. Do you know who Florence Nightingale is?”
“No,” I said as I crossed my hands over my chest. “Enlighten me.”
“She’s the founder of modern nursing, but it’s also a psychological phenomenon. It’s when someone who’s being taken care of attaches themselves emotionally to the caregiver.”
“You think I want to be with you because you’re protecting me.”
“And once I leave, those emotions will fade,” she said.
“So you think how I feel for you is all just an adrenaline-laced fantasy.”
“I know it is,” she said. “None of this is real. Nothing between us is anything else than a misfiring of chemicals in the brain.”
“You could technically argue that any emotion is.”
“I always argue that any emotion is. The only thing that makes that emotion real is the context with which it’s interpreted. Happiness is a chemical reaction, but the true depth of happiness is being able to conjure that chemical reaction when you need it. Love is a chemical reaction, but the true depth of it is being able to conjure it during the bleakest of times.”
“How is that any different from this? I’d say this is pretty bleak,” I said.
“You’re not in love, Derek. You're infatuated with someone who is protecting you. We’ve been thrust together by your need to survive, so you’re clinging to me because I can help you do that. Sex is a normal release for when someone gets overworked or overstressed like you and I both have been. But once I leave, you won’t be able to conjure these same feelings. That’s the difference between actual love and what’s going on here.”
“That what happens with this Florence Nightingale thing?” I asked.
“Yes. When the caregiver leaves, the feelings dissipate. They don’t grow. They don’t bubble. They don’t do anything but disappear because they can’t be conjured. Because they weren’t rooted in anything.”
I nodded as I tossed my gaze out the window. What I’d wanted was a confrontation, and I had gotten it. Not only did she think sleeping with me was a mistake, but she thought I had lost my mind and that I was using her as some form of stress release because of my life being threatened. In her view, I was nothing more than the playboys who surrounded me in the business world.
Just a fuck-toy.
That was what she thought I saw her as.
“If you’re that convinced—”
“I’m not convinced. It’s simple truth,” Sam said.
I nodded my head as I pulled my lips into a thin, taut line.
“I’ll be with you at work, but at night I’m keeping my distance. I’ve got my entire team here now because of this little stunt you pulled, so I’m taking advantage of them. John will be with you at night, and if you chase him out of here again with a baseball bat, I will have you arrested,” I said.
“Yes, Miss Williams.”
“Now. Get some fucking sleep, Mr. Steele. I’m going to have John clear the rest of your house before I leave,” I said.
I turned my back to her, watching her reflection through the window as she left. The men were walking through my yard, making their way back to their stations. There it was. The truth I couldn’t fight. Sam didn’t want me the way I wanted her, and there was nothing I could do about that.
The only thing I could do was keep going even though everything inside of me screamed to run after her.