Chapter 5 #2
The sound of water swishing comes from the large pool at the back of the house.
Romina is out on business chasing another lead, but I have some free time.
I round the corner and see Winona swimming in the pool in an oversized T-shirt and shorts.
She doesn’t give a damn. If she wants to get in the water, she won’t even bother changing clothes; she’ll just jump in and say she tripped.
“What are you doing?” I raise my voice enough for her to hear me. “You could’ve changed clothes.”
“I fell,” she shouts, floating on her back, and I chuckle.
Of course.
She never disappoints.
Barefoot, I lower myself to the edge of the pool, my feet drawing circles in the water. My eyes follow her every move, tracking the smile blooming across her face. The gentle breeze feathers my skin as the sunlight vanishes in an instant, replaced by overcast skies.
“There’s a bug in the pool. Here, let me help,” I splash some water on her, and she yelps before diving underwater.
Last night, we talked for hours after she had a panic attack in her sleep. I promised I wouldn’t leave her side, and I didn’t. When she stirred in her sleep, I brushed her hair, then slept in the chair next to her bed until morning.
It’s becoming increasingly harder to be around her, pretending I don’t feel anything when I feel everything. I just... I want to let go, for once.
She pulls herself up, droplets clinging to her skin. Her orange strands stick to the sides of her face. Her body moves closer to me, almost slipping between my legs. Eyes dancing between mine, taunting, challenging, and begging for more.
“Did anyone ever tell you that your eyes can light up the dark?” she asks, looking up at me.
Her smoky voice is like velvet and flame.
Her expression is so soft that, in that moment, the whole world shuts down.
Her voice is my guidance. And time stands still.
I don’t even know what it is. If it even exists.
When she looks at me like that, I believe she sees right through me. Right through the false facade I put up.
A long pause stretches between us.
I look into her warm eyes.
“You just did,” I reply.
The corners of her mouth hook into a grin.
“Why do you never talk to me about what you really feel inside?”
My jaw tightens. “Winona, don’t.”
“Is it so hard to talk?” Her voice is calm, not pushy or judgmental.
“I’m here to listen.”
“You listen all the time. I just… wish you could tell me more.”
I look away for a moment before my eyes meet hers again. “What do you want me to tell you?” My voice remains steady. “That I didn’t have the best childhood. That my parents didn’t love me half as much as your grandma. That I wish things could’ve been different.”
“That’s a start.” She looks at me with the same expression, as if nothing I say will ever change that.
“Well, there you go. That’s all you’re going to get,” I say, and before I finish my words, I get yanked into the pool, swallowing some water but still smiling inwardly.
Her little squeal is warped underwater. We wrestle, and that little brat bites my shoulder.
She never plays fair.
I guess that’s what makes it more exciting.
My fingers curve around her waist—it’s like touching a live wire and expecting to be electrocuted, only to find out it’s not going to hurt or kill, but instead breathe life into me.
I pull her up with me. Our heads break the surface. I slam her back against the pool wall. My chest rises and falls.
“What are you doing? Looking to start a fire?” My voice cuts through the tension between us. The heat of her body goes up, and the prickles from our touch run wild.
Blinking, she lifts her gaze from my soaked T-shirt to meet my eyes. “It already crackles. You can’t extinguish it, no matter how hard you try. It’s the kind of fire that consumes you. That becomes you.”
I cup her mouth, banding to level me with her face before I press my lips to my hand, watching as her pupils dilate, reflecting her dire need for more.
I wish I could kiss her.
Winona is the person who truly saved my life. Something inside me would have died a long time ago without her, but it didn’t, because she kept it alive for me.
She was right.
That flame cannot be extinguished.
It courses through my veins.
The hollow echo of plaster between our rooms instantly captures my attention. She knocks on the wall to let me know she’s okay.
We texted all night again. She told me about her nightmares that have recently returned and her sudden fear of snakes slithering in her dreams.
I calmed her down and said I would slay them all.
She asked me what my favorite memory is. No one ever asked me that before, and honestly, it took me a few moments to respond. But I knew that my favorite memory was meeting her for the first time.
I spent most of my life playing survival, so the peaceful pauses in between were the ones I tried to chase—until all I wanted was to chase her.
But I ended up telling her that my favorite memory is about the first comic book I got and reading it with my dad. I always hold myself back and only let her see glimpses of me when she exposes her deepest emotions daily.
It’s not fair.
Maybe deep down, where the twisted roots of the past bloom, I’m a fucking coward. Or maybe I just don’t want to drag her down with me because she’s already hurting.
I turn from bed and knock on the wall to let her know I’m here.
I slept for an hour, but I don’t feel tired. I’ve been reading a book since I woke up, and I need a break. I set it aside, jump out of bed, and walk to the arched window.
Taking the cigarette from behind my ear, I place it between my lips and bring the lighter to the end. The smoke fills my lungs as I take a deep inhale and stare outside the window. With her face in mind, I blow the smoke out.
Soft rays of light shine on the circle of trees surrounding the property. The air smells like her musky scent—warm, sweet, and sensual.
It makes me want to bite it.
After a few more drags of smoke, I toss it into the ashtray on the nearby table and pick up the rose I got her. An early birthday gift. I’m not good at giving these, but I figured she’d appreciate something... exceptional, because she is exceptional to me.
The door is wide open when I reach her room, but Winona isn’t there. I inch closer to her made bed. Her fluffy blanket is the first thing I touch. Pressing my hands against it, I inhale her essence into my fractured soul.
The room smells like her. Her personality shines through every little figurine or accessory she chooses to display on her bookshelves, the sketches she tapes to the walls, and even the pumpkin and skeleton plushie on her nightstand.
I lift my hand and place the rose there instead. The deep shades of red make it look almost black, accentuated by the light gray faux fur.
I slide my phone out of my back pocket, pick up her sketchbook from the bed, and take pictures of its contents to look at later.
I’m just an admirer of her work.
I turn around to look at her desk, expecting to be wowed by another sketch, yet it’s empty, except for a pile of sticky notes and a pen. I grab them and write:
I see you. You’re my favorite silence and my favorite noise. I’m just good at keeping everything bottled up inside, but it’s time you knew.
I quickly step out of her room and jog downstairs. Her laughter lingers from the kitchen, and I pause for a moment, committing it to memory, letting it register deep inside my soul, before I walk to the security room.
The room is dark, and only one monitor works. Romina requested to shut them down for today, and if Winona dares to go out of the house without me, the guards will text me immediately.
She won’t.
Neither of us would admit it, but we’re too attached at this point—it’s been nearly three years since I became her bodyguard.
After sitting here for two hours, watching her bake with Koy, I clock out.
My eyes snap to the door just as the handle twists. I know it’s the Little Demon, so I quietly sneak behind the door as she comes in and heads straight to the desk to leave a note for me.
She moves through this room with her quiet, tiny steps. Her shallow breaths turn into panting as her mind starts calculating just how wrong it is to step in here, under her grandma’s nose, while trying to stay in Koy’s good graces so he won’t snitch on us.
She’s treading dangerous waters. But she doesn’t care. She sneaks in here anyway just to leave me another note, just to be wrapped in my world again, in my presence.
We shouldn’t do this.
We keep going back and forth with this game.
Just as she’s about to step out the door, I grab her wrist and tug her back.
She gasps. Her body bumps into mine as I close and lock the door to keep anyone from interrupting us.
Startled, she steps back, hitting her back against the door when she realizes I’m here, watching her every move like a hawk.
The light from the monitor is enough to cast a faint glow on us.
“Looking for trouble?” I ask, lifting her chin gently with my thumb and index finger.
A small giggle escapes her.
“Maybe you want to be punished like the woman in the book you gave me last week. That was a nice read, by the way. Learned a lot.” I let my words trail off.
I smirk as the expression in her eyes shifts, the black pupils swallowing the blues and greens of her irises.
I bet she is wet for me right now just thinking about it, knowing damn right why she gave it to me in the first place.
She wants me to do all those things to her—depraved, unspeakable things to my Little Demon.
Her hand comes up to brush the stray strands of hair hanging over my forehead.
“Do you want to get caught?”
Her gaze flicks from the few strands of hair on my forehead to my eyes. “Maybe… I’m bored anyway. I’m caged in here all the time, and I’m not allowed to fraternize.”
I smirk, dropping my gaze just in time to see her cross her legs silently and squeeze her thighs tightly.