Close Protection

Chapter 31 Daphne

31 Daphne

‘Daphne?’ I feel a soft kiss on my forehead as I slowly open my eyes.

‘Daphne, wake up, baby.’ I smile as Milosh comes into view.

‘I’m gonna go get us some food and a couple of burner phones. Do you need anything else?’ I shake my head, still slightly out of it, as he nods, putting his shoes on. He’s changed out of his tux and is in his usual black T-shirt and cargos combo. He looks freshly showered.

‘I won’t be gone long, and I’m gonna take the key with me, all right?’

‘Okay.’

He lingers a moment longer before kissing me on the forehead again and disappearing out of the door.

I sit up and reacclimate myself. Yesterday, so much happened that I have to take a moment to run through the events.

You’re gonna make me go crazy, Daphne Green. I smile when I think back through everything Milosh said and did on this sofa, but then I process why we’re here.

Gala.

Trashed house.

Kidnap.

Escape.

France.

After our conversation, I climbed off Milosh and we finished watching the movie. I ended up falling asleep on his shoulder, but some time between then and now he must’ve got up and laid me down on the sofa to go and have a shower.

I’m glad Milosh stopped us when he did. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to go any further. I always knew I wanted to save myself for someone special, potentially even until marriage, but that ideal was nowhere to be found last night. I was ready to give it all to him.

On my childhood holiday sofa.

Yeah… Not the best look.

I want it to be special and preferably not straight after finding out my life’s been upended.

I don’t know how I’m going to be able to provide for you. Yes, I know we’re young, but I want a future with you so I will do everything in my power to be the man you need me to be. I smile as I think back to what he said last night. My father has always had money so that was never a problem in my parents’ relationship, and I never really thought about how it could affect mine.

I grew up in a circle where everyone has money, so financial strain never really crossed my mind. I think that’s why I’m so okay with becoming a midwife. I’ll always have my trust fund to fall back on and I always assumed I’d marry someone like Teddy, who would one day inherit his family’s company.

But when Milosh brought up his concerns yesterday it shed new light on the topic. Am I okay to swap out the life I’m used to? Absolutely not. And I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that, but I also don’t want a life without Milosh and he works for the US military.

But there’s something to be said about his determination and drive.

He has discipline and resolve and a big old soft spot for me. That’s how I know this can work. He doesn’t want to stay where he is, he’s willing to work for a better life.

For me. For us.

And he’s generous.

Generous with his words, generous through his actions, and one day I have no doubt he will be generous with his wallet too.

I’d take a generous man over an affluent man any day.

Money doesn’t equal generosity.

But a man who’s generous now always will be, no matter how much money he makes.

I’ll do anything in my power to be the man you need me to be.

I wholeheartedly believe that.

I get up and walk to my duffel, taking out all the toiletries I need and one of the dresses I packed last night. I rummage through to find some underwear but stop when I realize what perfume I’ve brought with me.

Taking it out of the bag I bring the perfume my father gifted me yesterday to my nose. I’m still a little confused about how he got it to smell so similar to hers, when the one I got recreated ages ago didn’t even come close.

Smelling that scent while standing in my mother’s favourite place brings memories rushing back.

Her sitting on the sofa as I sat on the floor while she braided my hair. Me, her and Daddy playing board game after board game and them always letting me win. Us on the very same sofa where I nearly got defiled last night, watching Christmas movies with a bowl of popcorn, snowman cookies and a cup of hot chocolate with mini marshmallows in it.

Her scent makes me feel like she’s a part of my life again, in a weird, comforting way.

Scooping up my things, I walk into the shower and place my toiletries next to Milosh’s, smiling when I notice how domestic our shower gels look standing beside each other.

I’m in and out of the shower in ten minutes and as I begin to lather moisturizer over my body, I hear the door shut downstairs. ‘That was quick,’ I mumble to myself, finishing up and slipping my dress on.

‘Milosh?’ I call, making my way downstairs, last night’s outfit folded in my hand. ‘You didn’t buy any bacon by any chance? I’ve got such a craving for it.’ I walk into the living room placing my dress neatly on the floor next to my bag, but I don’t hear a response.

Wariness pricks at my skin, heightening every second the silence continues. I pick up the fireplace poker and walk gingerly to the door, opening it slowly and making my way into the dark hallway, cautiously peeking into the kitchen.

My blood runs cold.

There’s a man.

A man that isn’t Milosh.

There’s a man that isn’t Milosh, and he’s standing in my kitchen looking out of the window.

My mind whirls, full of questions I don’t have time to think about.

I need a plan.

I need a plan and I need it now, because I’ve only got so long before this man turns around.

Right now, he’s facing away from me and he doesn’t know I’m onto him so I’ve got an advantage. I think back to all the situations Milosh went through with me until the perfect one pops into my mind.

I just need to get to a pan so I can Rapunzel him and knock him out.

Taking a deep, silent breath I steady myself then run into the kitchen full speed and strike him in the back of his knees with the poker.

He howls in agony as I whack him again, hitting the front of his knees this time. I keep hitting until I hear a satisfying crunch. He’s on the floor now, rolling around and gripping his legs.

Still holding the poker, I rummage through the drawers and cabinets looking for a metal pan with my back turned to him.

I haven’t been in this kitchen for so long that I’ve forgotten where everything is. I finally find what I’m looking for and go to pull it out but a hand clamps around my stomach pulling me away before I can do so. Although my bruises are practically healed they still throb when he pulls hard on them. I’m slightly winded as my back thuds against his chest.

‘I do like a challenge,’ the icky guy mutters, his bad breath fanning past my nose.

I jab my elbow hard into his ribs before stabbing the poker into his trainer-clad foot earning a childlike scream out of him and a chance to get away.

Dropping the poker, I run to the drawer while he hobbles around clutching his foot, and retrieve the pan.

Moving with speed, I aim for his temple and strike him with acute precision.

He hits the floor with a dull thud, unconscious. But you can never be too sure so I batter him again. And again. Picking the poker back up I aim at his knees again, hitting until I hear a more convincing crack. Clearly the first one wasn’t good enough if he was able to walk. I look around for something to tie him up with, but can’t find anything in the kitchen so I move to the living room. Spotting the curtain ties I pull them off and run back into the kitchen, binding his feet together first, then his hands.

‘What was it you were saying about a challenge?’ I ask innocently, patting him down. I find a wallet and take it out, then I look for a tattoo. He’s wearing a black polo shirt and when I pull it down to check his collarbone I spot it.

What kind of employment website does Daveeno use to always get the scummiest-looking dullards?

‘What a sad little man.’