6. Harry
She looks at me with wide, shocked eyes like she isn’t expecting me to be totally pissed off that she’s pawing at my bag, clearly with the intention of going inside. Of all the weird positions that I have found myself in this job, this isn’t one of them. I can’t understand why she would do this.
It’s my fucking privacy, isn’t it? I wouldn’t go through her things unless I really felt like I had to, so I don’t know why she would even think to go through mine. I have dangerous items in that bag, things to keep her safe. I don’t know if Petra is even taking her own safety seriously at the moment.
“I… I… I dunno.” Oh, God, and to make things a million times worse, she’s slurring her words. Petra is drunk and foolish, so this is going to be just wonderful. Now, on top of everything else, I’m a babysitter.
“You shouldn’t go through someone else’s shit, Petra. I don’t even know what to say to this.”
She tries to bolt upright but loses her balance and staggers backward. I automatically reach to grab her, but thankfully, she gets to the wall first. It’s much better if she can hold herself in a standing position while we get through this conversation. Best not make it any weirder than it already is.
“I just want to know what’s going on,” she murmurs with tears blinking in her eyes. “Fucking hell, if I didn’t go through other people’s shit, then I could be being sold right now. I wouldn’t have discovered Jake’s plan for me at all.” She sighs heavily. “That doesn’t excuse all of this, but still… I don’t know what to do.”
A bolt of compassion rockets through me. She’s been betrayed by someone she cares about and loves, just like I was. The circumstances might be very different, but I’m sure the pain and upset are the same. Petra and I might have more in common than I first thought.
“I get that, Petra,” I reply carefully. “And I understand, I do. But you need to get that I am doing my best for you. I’ve been hired to help you, and you need to help me do that. We need to respect one another.”
“Respect?” All of a sudden, her face twists up in anger. “Are you kidding me? Respect? I don’t see any respect around here. What I see is yet another man controlling me. You know that I need to hear about my father. I’m worried about him. I’m scared that he is going to be killed because of me. You took away any chance that I have to talk to him, and now… now, I don’t even know where he is or what’s happening.”
She shocks me by bursting into tears, but only for a moment. It’s like a weird, drunken outburst and Petra isn’t sure what emotion to settle on. Is she mad or sad? Is she twisted up and emotional? All over the place, really. I would like to help her and give her more, but I only have what I’ve been told too.
“I’m sorry. I don’t have anything yet,” I inform her, already knowing that this will not go down well. “Like I said to you before, as soon as I know anything, I will tell you. But we are both isolated out here, and until my boss gives me anything, I don’t know. I’m sure that isn’t what you want to hear.”
“You’re damn right, it isn’t.” Uh-oh. Her cheeks are staining red. The anger is getting to her now. Luckily, I’m not about to be offended by whatever she screams out at me. Drunken words from a virtual stranger won’t upset me. “I’m scared for my father’s life. I know that going in your bag was wrong, but I am scared here. Everything that I thought was going to happen isn’t now, and I don’t know what is supposed to happen to me. The life that I thought I was going to have is just gone, poof, vanished in smoke, and now I’m stuck here in the middle of God knows where with you, who I don’t even know, and I don’t like it.”
It’s hard not to get just the littlest bit wound up by her attitude. I have to try and keep my cool somewhat while I explain my side of things. “Petra, please remember that while this might not be ideal, you are safe out here. You’re one of the lucky ones. People without money wouldn’t be able to afford this.”
“You think that coming from a family of money makes me lucky?” She scoffs. “You have got to be joking me. My God. If my father didn’t have cash, then Jake never would have targeted me. I might have actually been able to find someone decent to be with. And on top of that, having money didn’t save my mother, did it? She died when I was young. Too young to even remember her.” She wipes away her soaking wet face. “And it didn’t help me keep any friends when Jake came along. No one really cared about me. And now, money might lead to my father being killed and my being sold to some sex trafficking ring. So, I do apologize for not jumping around for joy because I have money. It’s brought me nothing but trouble.”
“Well, I don’t think that you would like to grow up with nothing, either,” I shoot back in irritation. “Because that is shitty as well. I only grew up with my mother, and my father was an alcoholic who picked getting drunk over me. I pretty much had to raise myself because my mom was out working three jobs trying to keep a roof over my head. I had to drag myself out of an almost poverty situation, and just as I started to earn a decent wage and could have helped my mother out from her horrible life, Cancer got her and she died. Yet I don’t let that define me because I remember that there is always someone worse off out there than I am. And you should see it the same way. You might have been in danger, but now, out here, you are safe.”
She remains silent for a moment, allowing all of this to wash over her. I don’t normally tell people anything about my life, particularly not clients, but Petra got under my skin then. She annoyed me with her rich girl problems. Sure, her life is hard right now and it might not have always been smooth sailing, but she has options. As someone who didn’t come from a penny, I know all too well what a life without options looks like. My mom didn’t have a choice but to die when she got sick. She didn’t have an option about how and where to raise me. She wasn’t even allowed to stay alive long enough to see me succeed.
Petra has been given a choice and she has chosen to hide out. Whether she likes it or not, it is keeping her alive and safe. She can’t get all pissy because it isn’t a life of luxury or whatever.
“My dad is all I have left.” She folds her arms defiantly across her chest, but I see her bottom lip wobbling. I’m not a fool. I can see that she’s trying to keep her tears inside. “You don’t need to make me feel guilty for wanting to know that he’s okay. I don’t need the fucking emotional blackmail about it.”
“You know that isn’t what I’m trying to do.” My mood darkens as Petra attempts to turn this around on me. “I’m just trying to make you see that this isn’t black and white. You aren’t in the worst place in the world, even if you don’t want to be here around me, and you did choose this path.”
“This path was chosen for me. I was too much in shock to tell my dad no.” She offers me a one-shouldered shrug as if this explains everything away. “I was too scared as well, but maybe this isn’t the best plan. You have your money now, you’ve been paid, so you can’t be mad if I want to go home.”
“I’m not taking you home, Petra,” I interject quickly. “You’re drunk. You don’t mean this.”
“To hell I don’t!” Her hands fling in the air now, wildly and in frustration. “You have no idea what I want. It’s my family paying you, and if I want to get off this island, then you need to do that for me.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at her bratty behavior. “Your father would have to authorize that since he is the one who has paid Max, and since I haven’t heard anything from him yet?—”
“But this is my life! I should get a choice. Why will no one let me decide what I want to do?”
“I guess because everyone wants what is best for you. It might be time to accept that.”
With a frustrated scream and some muttering under her breath, Petra storms off up the stairs to hopefully sleep off the drunken mess that she has very quickly made of herself. With a bit of luck, she will be too hung over to cause me any issues tomorrow because I’m not in the mood to go through that again. What a nightmare. I’ve been feeling very sorry for Petra, and I still do when it comes to the situation that she finds herself in, but that doesn’t mean I like her. She’s rude and spoiled, not my sort of person at all.
We are not going to get along, of that much I am certain. There isn’t a chance in hell of our having anything to talk about at all while we are here because we’re on opposite ends of the spectrum. Of course, I’m only here to protect her, not to become her best buddy or anything, but it would be easier if we could have some sort of ease between us. Talking to one another would make the time pass better.
I glance around the kitchen and sigh. In her drunken state, she has made a mess which I can’t imagine she intends to clean up. If she comes from a life of riches and maids, I doubt she even knows how. I knew that tonight was going to end up with my being her babysitter, but now it’s hitting me that I might well be that the whole time we’re here. She might need me to do everything for her.
“Fucking marvelous,” I mutter while shaking my head in dismay. “This is just great.”
I will have to clean up the kitchen, get this place looking nice again, give Petra some time to cool off, and maybe even head back to sleep—I definitely prefer her while she’s sleeping—then I’ll go up to see if she needs a bucket and a glass of water left beside her bed. I wouldn’t want her to get too ill while we’re here, especially not because of alcohol. It isn’t exactly the easiest and most discrete place to get medical help. Helicopters will be necessary, which might draw the Mob’s focus if they’re looking for Petra.
If? Of course they will be looking for her. She is the money ticket here. She is the one person they need for the plan to all work out. I’m sure they will be throwing all of their resources at it. Luckily, Max is better.
“This is not going to be easy,” I tell myself as I begin. “Not for one second. And not for the reasons that I thought, either. How the hell am I going to do this? I’m not experienced in babysitting.”