The Jinxed Jackpot

Maggie - It has its own heartbeat

Staring at the back of his head as we walked toward the hospital, I decided he was like if Thor and a beautiful Italian model had a baby. His brown hair wasn’t quite as long as Thor's, but it was still hot. Everything about him was hot. His strong jawline, the dark scruff peppering said jawline, the cute little birthmark under his right eye, and the jagged scar that cut through his left eyebrow. It all added to the character of his face. The hot character of his face. I suspected he also had a dimple, but he had yet to smile enough for me to see.

I just wondered if he was a pampered hot or careless hot? Like, did he have a whole routine for his longish hair and scruffy face? Or did he use a three-in-one shampoo and only shave when he absolutely had to? He must have an extensive workout routine, because even his muscles had muscles.

I guess I’d find out soon enough with him living with me. Which was bad. So , so bad.

No guy would go near me with him around…and honestly, it’d be hard to have the hots for anyone else with him lurking in the corner. How could you fall for a boring dude with a regular 9-5 and dad-bod when the FBI’s own Tim Riggins was staring you down?

Even the way he walked and carried himself was attractive. He somehow exuded unreal levels of masculinity without even trying. I mean, even the way he smelled was masculine… like a forest after it rained. I sighed.

Too bad his personality sucked. He clearly found me annoying and he called me irresponsible before laughing in my face. Half of me wanted to claw his eyes out for those words, the other half of me wanted to fall down in a heap and cry. I was already feeling bad about the mess I naively got wrapped up in, I didn’t need him making me feel worse about it.

And the way he tipped his head back and laughed– actually laughed – when I said I was after a boyfriend? It was humiliating. His reaction made it seem like the notion was ridiculous. Like there was no possibility of me securing that kind of future for myself.

If he looked at me one more time with warily uneasiness, like he thought I was about to go crazy, then maybe I actually would lose my mind. And now we were stuck together until the court date which hadn’t even been set yet.

This was a disaster.

He opened the door for me, exposing some ink on his skin. When his shirt sleeves were pushed up earlier, I noticed he had squiggly lines wrapped around his right forearm, the same lines that appeared just above his collar, climbing up his neck a little. They resembled the lines on one of those maps we learned to read back in middle school geography. I was irritated as hell with him, but for some unknown reason, I still wanted to ask what they meant.

He led the way through the waiting room and gestured for me to take a seat while he spoke with the nurse. He took a while up there, and even flashed the woman his badge at one point– probably so the hospital staff wouldn't be freaked out when they saw my strangulation marks. I was already getting worried looks from other people in the waiting room.

After a couple minutes, he plopped down in the chair next to me, spreading his long legs out in front of us. A certain steadiness radiated from him while I was a jumpy mess. I couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting.

At one point, he slowly laid his heavy hand on my bouncing knee to make me still. It was a kind gesture… That was only ruined when he opened his mouth to say, “You’re moving my chair.”

I just shrugged. I refused to apologize for my anxiety. It wasn’t my fault I was more jumpy than usual today.

But at that moment, I was secretly thankful for his presence. His calmness had a way of easing the edge off, and his warm hand on my knee seemed to warm up my entire body.

If he wasn’t here, I’d surely be looking over my shoulder for Timothy and his buddies– and I had no clue what they even looked like, so I’d be a sitting duck. I winced at the mental image of him .

“Hey,” he squeezed my knee, forcing him to look at him. “You’ll be fine,” he said, which seemed to soothe me.

I blew out a shaky breath, feeling the tension slightly leave my shoulders, and nodded.

When I was finally called back to take X-rays, Ben tried to come into the little room with me, but the tech made him stand guard outside.

And that’s when the reality of him as a shadow really set in… Yeah, it was nice to have him around today, but what would tomorrow be like? What would next week be like?

A day ago I’d been so happy to have my own space, to have an apartment all to myself, and now… He was going to follow me everywhere ?

He’d really just be sitting in my classroom watching me work all day? What would the first day of school be like? I hated when I was observed in my classroom because I ended up second guessing myself and mentally measuring every word that came out of my mouth. The kids seemed extra guarded on those days too. Would he throw off my entire classroom vibe?

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” the x-ray tech asked, cutting into my thoughts.

I looked over at the older black woman in colorful scrubs, waiting on an answer from me.

“No, why?” I asked.

Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “The hunky man out there. Is he your boyfriend? He seems awfully protective, like a German Shepherd,” she said with a laugh. That description was actually pretty fitting for him. “Sorry, hun, I know I’m nosy, but I’m stuck in here all day, give me the gossip. The other girls wanna know,” she said with a wink.

I honestly didn’t know what I was allowed to say, and I realized then that Ben and I needed to get our story straight for when other people asked.

But then it dawned on me… Maybe I could have some fun with this.

I grinned to myself, then immediately schooled my features into a frown. “Oh, he’s actually an asshole co-worker of mine. He almost ran me over with his fancy Tesla. I had to dive out of the way, and I broke my wrist. He makes my life absolutely miserable at work, picking on every little thing and making me look stupid. He’s only here because our boss said he’d fire him if he didn’t help me.”

Her face transformed to utter shock. “Oh you poor baby. You could’ve been killed,” she said, putting a hand to her chest. She shot a look of disgust at the door. “What a pompous ass. I guess looks can be deceiving.”

I knew that all too well. “Exactly what I always say,” I said with a sigh.

When we were all finished, the tech motioned for me to wait behind her.

She listened at the door, then opened it hard, whacking Ben. I covered my mouth to muffle my giggle.

He forced the door open and scowled at us.

The tech lifted her chin. “Have a nice day sweetie,” she said to me before shooting daggers at Ben.

Ben looked from her to me in confusion before shaking his head and leading me back to my designated room.

I gently sat on the crinkly paper, waiting for the doctor.

He sat in the corner chair and leaned his elbows on his knees, strands of his long-ish hair fell forward. “What’d you tell the tech?”

I shrugged and gave him my sweetest smile.

He remained stone-faced. “What’d you say, Maggie?”

“Oh, I don’t know, just that you’re my asshole co-worker who caused me to break my wrist. Oh, and I said you’d be fired by our boss if you didn’t help me today.”

A shadow of guilt crossed his face, and I almost felt bad. I was totally joking, he had to know that.

“And was that fun for you?”

“Kinda,” I said with a laugh.

He tried to maintain a blank face, but then his mouth twitched, totally giving him away. I wanted to shout out ah-ha! I win! I broke you!

“You should’ve told someone about your wrist earlier,” he grumbled.

That killed my laughter and I sighed. “I’m not a baby.”

His forehead creased. “Were you trying to prove it or something?”

“No.” I shrugged. “I think my nerves and adrenaline overshadowed the pain for a while.” I didn’t even feel the full extent of the hurt until later, when I was being questioned, and when I kept my arm still, it didn’t hurt. It was just when I moved it that it hurt like a bitch. Plus, I kept thinking I was almost done with the questioning. “To be honest, I thought I’d tell my story, then walk out a free woman, not with a bodyguard shadow, whatever you call yourself. Besides, it’s my left wrist, which isn’t even important, so–”

A knock on the door sounded, shutting me up.

“Hi, Margaret?” A doctor with graying hair wearing a white medical jacket walked in and stood in front of me.

I nodded.

“Sorry about the tough break.” He nodded to my wrist. “And I’m also sorry to report that we’re going to have to manipulate your wrist a little before we cast it.”

“Manipulate?” I gulped.

The doctor turned and placed the x-ray against the display on the wall and flipped a light switch on so the picture was illuminated. He continued talking, pointing things out on the x-ray, but I looked to Ben– I’m not completely sure why, maybe because I knew he didn’t want to hurt me. I was surprised to see he was ignoring the doctor too. Instead, he was looking straight at me with those assessing eyes of his. He gave me a nod that said it was okay.

“You ready?” the doctor asked, turning to me.

I blinked. “Ready?”

“We’re gonna move your wrist into a better position to be casted. This might hurt a pinch, but it’ll be over quickly.”

Ben gave me another nod of encouragement, his face serious.

“Okay,” I breathed out. “I-I guess.”

The doctor took my left wrist in his cold hands. He started moving it and excruciating pain shot up to my elbow. Tears welled up in my eyes. I bit my lip hard to keep from letting out any noise.

“Okay, done,” he said.

“A pinch?” I asked desperately, wiping away tears with the back of my right hand. I wanted to yank my wrist away, but I didn't want to move what he just did and have to go through that pain again.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts,” he said, giving me a sympathetic grin, “but it has to heal in the right place.”

Ben was laser-focused on the doctor’s movements, seemingly avoiding looking at me now, but his jaw throbbed.

My wrist was casted pretty quickly after that. I stared at the plain gauze, feeling humiliation set in. Breaking a bone as a kid wasn’t a big deal– it was even expected when you were a crazy kid like my brother. Liam had broken both his arms and his ankle before his twelfth birthday. But breaking a bone as an adult was slightly mortifying– even though I didn’t break it. Stupid ass Timothy broke it. I winced at the memory. I didn’t know which was worse– the fact that he broke my wrist with such ease, or that he seemed practiced at it.

God, I could still feel his cold, angry hands on me. On my throat, in my hair. I could still feel the phantom pain of him pulling my ponytail. I wanted to shed my skin, shed every part of me he touched. I needed a shower as soon as possible. Maybe scalding hot water would help wash it all away.

Before leaving, the doctor handed me a couple pills and a flimsy paper cup of water.

“We’re giving you the good stuff here, but regular painkillers should work at home if you need them. These might make you a little drowsy. Any other questions?”

My brain was swarming with so many that I couldn’t quite pinpoint anything specific. I sat there gulping like a fish out of water.

He gave a knowing grin. “Call if you think of anything, Ms. Quinn. See the nurse at the front desk to schedule your next appointment in four weeks to check the progress.”

As soon as he left the room, I eyed the pills in my palm with a bit of hesitation. While I didn’t have white coat syndrome or anything like that, I was slightly afraid of medication. They always asked if you were allergic to certain medications, but how would you really know if you’d never had them before? And what if I was the person who took it and then died of anaphylactic shock in my sleep?

But the constant throbbing in my wrist was like scratching on a chalkboard in my brain and I needed it to stop.

Ben cleared his throat, making my eyes go to his. He gave me another stern nod, telling me to take the pills.

I took a steadying breath before throwing them back.

“Good girl,” he murmured his approval.

That low tone of his sent more than just innocent butterflies flying through me. Heat bloomed below my belly button. I swallowed hard and sat there in shock

Shit.

I’d been waiting for this to happen. To feel these feelings! But why– oh why!?-- did it have to be over him?!

My eyes darted to the hospital’s linoleum floor. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, because I could feel the flush on my cheeks.

My body was just confused, that was it. He was protecting me and he was a hottie with a body. My exhausted brain was all muddled.

Without a word, Ben led the way through the hospital.

I slowed by the front desk. “What about the appointment?”

He didn’t break his stride. “We’ll take care of it later, we gotta move.”

I couldn’t help but appreciate the way his back muscles shifted under his long-sleeved T-shirt. He had mature, solid muscle, telling me he had to be somewhere in his thirties. And I don’t think I’d ever seen jeans look so good on a guy. The way the nurses were whispering, I knew they noticed too. They were probably all wondering how I bagged a guy like that. Ha . As if he’d ever look at me with interest. He probably had an Influencer model girlfriend at home.

When we reached the parking lot, he gestured for me to walk faster, which wasn’t fair. He had much longer legs than I did, and my eyelids were already heavy. I continued at my own pace behind him, cradling my cast because it throbbed a little less when I carried it.

“Are we going back to my place?” I asked, fighting off a yawn.

“Your place is now a new location.” His eyes were constantly darting around. “C’mon, faster.”

I stopped walking entirely. “What?”

He turned and sized me up. “You really want to stay where you were attacked?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again.

“Didn’t think so. C’mon,” he bit out.

Jeez, why was he being even more prickly than he was earlier? “What about my stuff?” I blinked.

His eyebrows slammed down. “What, like your blow-up mattress?”

Was he judging me? I was doing the best I could as an independent woman in a new location. It’s not like I knew anyone around here to ask for help to move a mattress for me. My plan was to wait and use my first paycheck to get a mattress and have it moved up into my apartment. I lifted my chin. “For your information, I was going to get a new one, I just hadn’t gotten to it yet. And I was talking about all my painting supplies and my clothes.”

“Already moved for you. This is to be an undisclosed location. That means no telling anyone where you’re staying. I don’t care who they are, undisclosed means absolutely no one. No family or friends over or anything like that for the time being, got it?”

“I’m not stupid, I know what that means,” I grumbled. And it’s not like I had many friends yet to tell. Just Kelly and Mark, and– “Wait, what time is it?”

“19 hundred,” he responded, taking a pair of sunglasses out of his back pocket to shield his eyes against the blinding sunset.

My face cracked in confusion. He was really going to make me count right now? “Um… normal numbers, please?”

He sighed, like I was irritating him. “It’s 7.”

My shoulders slumped.

“What?” he asked in a resigned tone, like I was the most annoying person on the planet.

And that grated my nerves. Yeah, he was hot, and my body was clearly attracted to him, but that didn’t give him an excuse to act like a jerk. I’d about had it with the entire FBI. And while I appreciated their efforts to keep me alive, they still needed me . They needed my testimony. His whole annoyed act was about to make me throw away the entire bargain because there’s no way I could put up with this for weeks. “Stop being like that.”

He arched a dark eyebrow, like he needed clarification.

“Stop acting all irritated or it’s going to be a long few weeks,” I fumed. “I can’t take this…this…” He crossed his chorded arms over his chest, waiting for me to choose my final word. “Tension.” I flung my arms to my sides, then immediately whimpered and grabbed up my left hand.

His jaw throbbed again as he took in my cast.

“I’m supposed to get drinks with new friends in an hour,” I said quietly. And honestly, I didn’t feel like going back to any apartment. I wanted to stay out in the public and avoid feeling trapped.

“No,” he barked.

I reeled back at his tone. What was I? A dog? I angled my jaw to the side and felt my rebellious side rising up inside me. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

He scoffed. “Yes, I can. It’s my job.”

I blinked at him in shock. What? “No–”

“We’re limiting extracurricular activities right now if you haven’t noticed,” he talked right over me. “We’ll stick to the required things on your schedule, nothing else.”

My jaw dropped. “What is this? Are you trying to ground me or some shit?”

He was stone-faced, and the sunglasses were not helping. I wanted to knock them off his stupidly handsome face. He was already hard to read, with his eyes shielded it was practically impossible.

A humorless laugh popped out of me at the ridiculousness of it. He couldn’t be serious. “Yeah, okay,” I quipped back sarcastically. “What’s next? You gonna take away my phone too? Sorry daddy, I’ll be good now,” I said in a mocking voice.

His jaw ticked, but he remained silent, unwavering.

There was no way. No fucking way I’d be okay with living like this. “If you guys would’ve told me I was only allowed to go to work and then home for the next couple months I would’ve said no.”

He remained stoic, content to watch me spiral.

“I’m not doing this,” I said, feeling my voice edge on hysteria. I needed to put my foot down now or I’d have a panic attack. “I’m not living under house arrest when I did nothing wrong. I agreed to a bodyguard, so guard me, but I’m not staying in. I won’t agree to stop living.”

His jaw clicked. “You done with your little tantrum yet?”

I gasped. The audacity. “Am I— Am I done?!” I shouted.

He ripped his sunglasses off and stalked right up to me, fury radiating off him in such a way that had me holding my breath. His face was inches from mine. “Living risky while this is going on? That’s a surefire way to stop living all together, don’t you get that?”

“I don’t care!” I shouted up at his face, desperate for him to understand. “Don't you get that ?” I shoved his chest with my good hand, but he didn’t budge an inch. “I came out here to live . Reel it back or I’m done. I quit.”

He was still standing so close to me that I could feel the frustration reverberating off him. Mouth clamped shut, he ran his tongue over his teeth, then looked to the sky like I was testing him. He shook his head and continued to the passenger side of the blacked-out Escalade. He propped the door open for me and waited.

We were in a standoff and I wasn’t about to lose.

Not on this.

“I’m not moving unless you lift your ban on my ‘extracurriculars.’” I used air-quotes and rolled my eyes.

A tense silence stretched between us.

“Fine,” he finally ground out, his nostrils flaring. “We’ll work something out. Now get your ass in the car, Maggie.”

I will never understand why a little thrill ran through me at that. After years of not feeling any attraction for the opposite sex, this is what did it for me? One heated look from him and cursing at me in a gravelly voice? What the hell was wrong with my head?

Wait… Maybe I was concussed.

That had to be it.

I was in shock from the day. Or maybe it was the pills? It was definitely the pills. What the hell did they give me? Did I even ask?

Either way, I couldn't completely tamper my little grin over the fact that I won this little battle.

I knew it was bratty, but as I passed him, I flipped my hair, smacking him in the face with it.

“Tonight's off the table,” he barked. I should’ve known he wouldn't take that disrespect without retaliation. “You can’t drink on those meds anyway,” he said with a firm finality.

My neck snapped to him. “And what if I want to?”

A corner of his mouth slowly curved up as he reached across me for the seatbelt. He was so close that his masculine scent enveloped me. He caged me in until the seatbelt clicked. I could’ve sworn his eyes dipped down to my lips, making me practically stop breathing as I waited for his next move. “Then you’re even more irresponsible than I thought, sweetheart.”

My mouth dropped open. “Well you’re even more of an ass–”

He pulled back and slammed the car door shut before I could finish.

I slumped back in the seat and let out a sigh. Great. The only two friends I knew and I was already ditching out, so they might not even like me anymore.

_________

I stayed silent as we drove to the new “undisclosed” location. But the further from the center of the city we drove, the nicer and newer the apartment complexes started looking. And then we passed a huge, fancy mall– the kind of mall that had clothing stores that I couldn’t even afford to walk into.

He continued a block past the mall and rolled up to the parking garage underneath an extremely fancy apartment complex. The kind of apartment that had huge, brand new windows and balconies and was at least 10 floors high.

“Umm… I don’t know if you forgot, but I’m a teacher,” I squeaked out. “I can’t afford this place.”

He ignored me while he held out a little card to let us into the gated parking garage. As soon as he rolled the window back up he said, “the FBI is picking up the tab ‘til you testify.” He took off his sunglasses and threw them in the little cubby between us.

As we continued to the second level of the parking garage, I spotted my dirty jeep looking totally out of place amongst Teslas and Range Rovers.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the situation crushing me again. “You guys moved my car already?” I couldn’t help but think that my privacy was pretty much stripped away from me. But the FBI didn’t really take it from me. Timothy did. I shivered as I tried to push away the mental image of his twisted face.

“Does that bother you? We couldn’t let you go back to that complex. They’d be expecting you to do that.”

Right. Because people were out to get me now. I scrubbed my right hand down my face. “This is just… a lot.”

Just days ago I was thrilled about having my own space. I snorted at the irony. Now I wouldn’t be alone for weeks.

And to go weeks with having someone else around? That was a tall order. I couldn't even handle being around any of my past boyfriends for that long– I’d always get socially tapped out. Plus, whenever a guy insulted me (I swear, they didn’t even realize when insults left their big, fat mouths), I’d need to go back to my own space and decompress for a while. How could I decompress with him hanging around 24/7?

I chewed my lip in thought. Maybe I’d be able to lose him for a few hours every day. I’d say I was going to the bathroom and then just sneak out… Then I could just text Mr. Bodyguard man that I’d be heading home. How hard could that be?

I cleared my throat. “Well, you guys should’ve led with the whole rent thing. Makes the whole situation a little more okay. I’d do anything for free rent.”

His brown eyes briefly flicked to mine. “Anything? Don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s true.” I snorted a laugh. “Did you not realize my last place was a micro-apartment? I had like 200 square feet, that’s it. Might have to start stripping to keep up this lifestyle, eh?”

I thought he’d laugh, or blush even. I did not expect him to bark “No” and pull a face like he was… disgusted. By me . Oh God.

I wanted to shrivel up with embarrassment, or go back and delete the last two minutes, but I couldn’t do that. So that’s why I lifted my chin and dug myself in deeper. “Why? You think I couldn’t do it?”

His face cracked. He looked at me like I was insane. “Jesus Christ, Maggie. No.”

“Please refrain from taking the Lord’s name in vain in my presence,” I automatically threw back– it’d been drilled into me to say that from a young age.

He just grunted.

After hopping out of the car, I silently followed him to the elevator– his long legs carrying him much faster, yet again. I needed to figure out a way to make him slow his damn pace down, because I wasn’t about to be running everywhere for the next few weeks.

He pushed the button for the tenth floor, and I had a sneaky suspicion that we were going to a penthouse, which was kind of exciting– not that I’d ever tell him. But I’d never lived in a place this nice before. This was making me feel like a queen– if queens got attacked by neighbors who killed people and broke wrists, that is.

Walking off the elevator and onto the cushy black hallway carpet, I felt his presence looming behind me. There were only three black paneled doors on this floor. I studied them, wondering which would be ours.

“The agency owns this whole floor,” he explained. He went to place his hand to my lower back, but I wasn't expecting it, and I jumped away from his touch. His jaw throbbed again. “No need to worry about neighbors. On this floor, at least,” he added, which did ease the knot of anxiety in my chest.

He walked to the end of the hall and used a key fob to unlock the door.

“Can I get my key?” I asked.

He blocked the entrance. “No.”

I paused, letting that word sink in. Wait… Was he for real right now? I wasn’t allowed a key to where I’d be living? It suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on me, swallowing me up. I was about to walk into a prison cell without even knowing it. I took a swift step back, away from the door, away from him.

“Not this again,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m your shadow, right?” he asked, his forehead creasing. “When will you not be with me, Maggie? Unless you were planning to lose me?” He cocked the left eyebrow of his, the one with the scar stemming through it.

How the hell had he known I was thinking that?

“C’mon,” he ushered me in.

I just stood there, pathetically cradling my cast, paralyzed in indecision.

His large hands went to his hips. “What is this? What’s wrong?”

“Give me a key,” I tried again.

His dark eyebrows scrunched together. “That’s not protocol. I can ask, doesn't mean they’ll give it to you.”

I swallowed hard and eyed the other doors. What if I ran away? Would he run after me? Would he throw me into a door like Timothy? Did I just escape one horrifying situation just to stupidly walk into another bad one? I mean, I totally believed he was one of the “good guys”. But what if there were no “good guys” in this situation? My whole body started trembling with adrenaline. My fight or flight response screamed at me to run.

He cocked his head to the side. “You’re not gonna…”

I sprinted down the hall, pushing my already sore and exhausted body. But I wasn’t about to be trapped like this. No fucking way.

I didn't dare hesitate by the elevator this time. I spotted the exit sign above the stairs door and bolted for it. But it wouldn’t budge. I shoved my body against it, hard, definitely bruising my hip in the process. But nothing.

“It’s locked?!” I screamed and pounded on the door. “How is that safe?!” I went back to the elevator and smacked the button, looking over my shoulder, waiting for him. But he was just mossy-ing toward me, taking his own sweet time. His masculine presence looked so at odds in the fancy hallway. He was slightly bow-legged, which somehow gave him more swagger, and my body was suddenly at war with itself. My mind wanted freedom. My body wouldn’t mind being captured by him. And that made me equal parts flustered and irritated. I wanted to scream at myself.

I smacked the elevator button again and again. Why wasn’t it even lighting up?

The metal doors finally dinged open. Without a second thought, I ran on and pushed the lobby button, then the close button.

When I looked back up, Ben was standing there at the threshold of the elevator, but not stepping in. His corded forearms crossed over his chest, an unimpressed expression on his face. My entire body stayed tense until the doors closed completely. No hand shot through the metal walls. He let me go.

In the privacy of the elevator, I slumped against the wall and sullenly watched the numbers go down.

Only, when the L appeared for the lobby level, the elevator didn’t open.

My eyebrows screwed together in confusion as I continually hit the open button, but it wouldn’t obey.

I scanned the little box for the security camera and found it located in the top right corner. “Let me out!” I screamed at it and pounded on the metal.

But the elevator was already sweeping back up on its own accord.

No, no, no. How could this be? This was insane. I was trapped in a maze of their making. A bunch of nerds in some control room were probably laughing at me, and that thought made bitter resentment rise up in my chest. A desperate noise erupted from my throat and I had to squeeze my eyes shut against the frustration mounting in me. I would not cry. I just simply wouldn’t. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of breaking me.

But everything was spinning out of my control. They were monitoring my every move. And the metal walls were closing in on me. I couldn't live like this.

My breathing started coming in short wheezes. I held my chest and screamed at myself to breathe , but I couldn't seem to control my body. Black dots danced across my vision. What the hell was going on with me? My body was just shutting down? Giving up on me?

The doors opened back up to reveal Ben, and I was actually relieved to see him.

His hard face softened in an instant, and then he was stalking in, toward me.

He went to lay his hand on my shoulder but hesitated. “Breathe, Maggie,” he commanded in his deep voice.

I stayed where I was, hands braced against the elevator wall. My knees suddenly felt weak.

“You’re gonna make yourself pass out,” he warned. “You have to breathe.”

I couldn’t seem to hear him over how loud my brain was panicking.

He gripped my chin with his calloused hand and forced me to look in his serious eyes. “Focus on me and breathe ,” he commanded. “Fight your brain. Fight your thoughts, right now.”

I shook my head. “I-I… can’t.”

“You’re completely safe . With me , you’re safe, so you don’t have to run. I won’t let anyone hurt you, I promise. Now breathe.”

I finally sucked in air and his tense shoulders seemed to loosen, but his brown eyes remained serious.

We stayed there for four more breaths, and the cobwebs slowly started clearing from my mind. I was still slightly trembling as I sagged against the metal wall, feeling completely drained. The panic attack zapped the last of my energy.

“Now,” he said with a sigh, “Are we done with the attitude?”

I gaped at him. There it was. Why couldn’t he ever just be nice? He had to sandwich his kindness with assholeness. And why was he standing so close to me? I shouldn’t have been able to smell his damn– amazing– cologne. I shoved him back with my right forearm, but of course he didn’t budge.

“Are you done being an asshole?!” I yelled up at him, and I could've sworn I heard faint laughter in the distance.

His scruffy jaw ticked in response. “To be clear, I don’t want to do this,” he said with force.

“Do what?” I snapped back.

“I’m going to lift you now,” he said quietly. Before I could register his words, he dipped down and tossed me over his shoulder. I let out a yelp from my ribs hitting his shoulder.

“My wrist shouldn’t be like this!” I yelled, trying to reposition myself. I was supposed to be elevating it, not holding it upside down.

“Then hold it up,” he barked.

I punched his back with my right fist and instantly regretted it. “Ow! What the hell is your back made of? Bricks?”

A low chuckle rolled out of him. I wriggled against his grasp, but his hold around my thighs just tightened.

I punched him again, but he wasn’t even phased.

“Stop before you hurt yourself,” he snapped. A few steps later, he muttered, “Can’t imagine what a delight you’d be with two broken wrists.”

I gasped at his utter audacity. “Stop man-handling me,” I struggled back, but his hold wouldn’t budge.

“Jesus, you’re a difficult woman,” he muttered.

“Do not take the Lord’s name in vain,” I gritted out.

“That’s what you're mad about?” he asked incredulously. “Not me calling you difficult?”

My face burned with indignation. I couldn't give him anymore ammunition. I wouldn't give him anything else. No more words.

He sighed as he opened the apartment door. “I’m not going to hurt you. No one on this floor wants to hurt you. We just want to keep you safe. I promise I will ask about getting you your own key, but this little show you just gave them probably won’t help your cause.”

I didn’t want to ask anything, but curiosity gnawed at me. “Who’s them?”

“Security room is across the hall. Knock if you need anything.”

“Anything except a key, huh?” I quipped back.

He let me slowly slide down his body til my feet hit the floor. My stupid, traitorous heart wobbled as I felt every inch of his muscular body against mine. And then his hands stayed on my hips. His chest expanded against me.

My eyes drifted up to his.

A wary look crossed his face. He immediately backed away from me and ran a hand over his hair. “You’re not a prisoner, Maggie. Believe it or not, we want what’s best for you. But other people out there… I’m not going to lie to you, I’ll never lie to you…” His intense brown eyes bore into me. “They want you dead , Maggie.”

A shiver ran down my spine. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shut out everything he just said. I didn’t want to be scared. That’s how your world became small, closed in. And I refused to feel stuck again.

I could usually look on the bright side of things, but today defeated me. I needed time and space to digest all of this.

The hallway we stood in probably led out to a living room and kitchen, but I didn’t care about that at the moment. I just wanted a bed. There were three doors. Ugh. I had to talk to him to find out which room was mine.

“Which is mine?” I asked without looking at him.

“Left.”

I wandered in and closed the door shut behind me.

“Your other left,” he said from behind the door.

A frustrated noise ripped from my throat. I threw the door open, marched across the hall, then slammed my door shut in his face.

I slumped against the wall and sighed. At least the room was nice. The high ceiling, plain white walls, plain white comforter kind of made it look like a hotel room. The only furniture was a little bedside table with a lamp, an old armchair in the corner, and a dresser at the front of the room with a smart TV. Not very homey, but it was clean and spacious.

His heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the door. “You don't want to see the rest of the apartment?”

I swallowed hard. “No.”

“You don’t want dinner?”

The clock on the bedside table read 8pm, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to go to bed and end this horrendous day. “No.”

Ripping open the dresser drawers, I located my underwear and plaid pajamas. My face flamed over the fact that some rando FBI guys rifled through everything I owned, from my one piece of lingerie to my granny panties.

I listened by the door before exiting my room to find the bathroom. From the low sounds of conversation and applause, I knew he was watching an old sitcom in the living room.

In the bathroom, I flipped the lights and gasped at my reflection. My right eye was puffy and already starting to bruise. Ugly purple bruises marked my throat from being choked against the handrail in the stairwell.

Lifting my shirt, I found even more bruises. I couldn't even recall what they were all from. I didn't want to.

I just needed to wash this horrible day off me.

Turning on the shower, I paused.

My cast… I couldn’t shower… And that was the final straw that broke me. I wanted to scream in frustration. All I wanted was a hot fucking shower and I couldn’t even have that.

A quick knock on the door made me jump. And then my fury had a target. Because he was the only one here.

He cleared his throat. “Leaving a plastic grocery bag outside the door. Tie it around your cast.”

His words were like a fire extinguisher to my anger. Maybe I was being too hard on him? He was just trying to help me, after all. He actually got up off the couch to help me. My heart wavered at the fact that a need of mine came across his brain, and he actually tried to solve it. No guy I ever dated would’ve done that for me.

God. My bar for men really was on the floor if I was impressed by a grocery bag.

And now tears came to my eyes for a million different reasons.

As soon as I heard his footsteps retreating, I wrapped a towel around myself and cracked the door open to grab the bag.

For the next ten minutes, I fumbled with the bag, trying to use one hand to tie the stupid thing.

Another knock sounded at the door.

“Need help?”

I shut my eyes for a beat. I hated admitting defeat, but at this point, I needed to give in to get what I actually wanted.

Without a word, I cracked open the door. His eyes drifted to the towel around my body before he backed up and raked a hand over his hair. I swear I wasn’t imagining the slight flush to his cheeks.

I stuck my casted arm out and the bag. “Can you…”

He kept his dark eyes trained on my arm while his fingers worked the knot. “Should be good to go,” he said, but he kept his hold on my casted wrist. “Hey,” he said, dragging my eyes to his warm brown ones. “Are you… Uh… Are you okay?”

His earnestness in that moment broke another little piece inside of me. How did you tell someone you just needed a good cry without sounding crazy?

I couldn’t seem to form words. I just stood there with my eyes burning.

His thumb rubbed softly against the skin above my cast in a comforting way. I wondered if he even knew he was doing it. His eyes softened and it looked like… like he actually cared. “Does it hurt?”

I let out a shaky sigh. “Yes. It has its own heartbeat.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a small show of sympathy. “The throbbing is the worst. It should ease by tomorrow.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Thank you, Ben. I really appreciate it.”

He dropped his hand away like I burnt him and gave a sharp nod. He shifted his body away, and it was like he drew up a cold, invisible barrier between us. “Yeah, well, make sure you don’t get it wet. Neither of us wants to go back to the hospital at this hour,” he snapped before disappearing.

It suddenly felt twenty degrees colder standing there alone.

I replayed what I said, wondering what was so bad about it, because it clearly made him uncomfortable. Maybe appreciating it was too much for him? He basically explained with his body language that he wasn’t helping me because he wanted to. His actions were self-serving. It was his job to keep me alive and well. I needed to get that through my head right fucking now so I didn’t make this any more awkward.

I retreated back into the bathroom, my face burning with the embarrassing thoughts of him circling my mind.

Maybe my brain was scrambled up by the hit I took on the doorknob. Because I was clearly suffering from some kind of stockholm syndrome– even though Ben was supposedly the good guy. I knew right then that if a villain was half as hot as Ben, I’d be in trouble. I could understand how someone’s head could get twisted up and confused.

But I couldn’t let myself get duped here. He’d be gone in a few weeks without a second thought about me and then I’d be on my own again.

In the privacy of the large shower, a supercut of the day played in my mind and I let my tears fall freely. My eyes would surely be puffy tomorrow, but I didn’t care. I needed to grieve the hopefulness I once felt about this move. I needed to grieve the girl I was before Timmy the Vet morphed before my eyes and attacked me.

All my silver linings were painted black and everything felt dark and doomed. I knew I was probably being dramatic, because today would have gone so so much worse. But right then, I just needed a minute to cry. I stayed in the shower until my eyes were practically dried out.

When I tiptoed out of the bathroom, I paused at the sight of a tray laying on the ground by my door holding a mug of soup, an ice pack, tylenol, and a water bottle.

My throat burned as I peered down the hall. This was incredibly thoughtful of him. I wanted to thank him, but I was too tired for another interaction that would ultimately end in another awkward standoff between us. I was having a hard time pinning him down in my mind, but this tray kind of solidified things. For as grumbly as he was on the outside, he was a kind person on the inside, I was sure of that.

By the time I finished my soup, my eyes were heavy with sleep.

I pushed out of bed to turn off the lights, but paused by the light switch. I couldn't bring myself to do it, to shroud everything in the dark.

I settled on keeping the bedside lamp and TV on. I’d never be able to fall asleep without some kind of light and sound. The voices kept my thoughts from drowning me and made me feel not so alone.

At least the bed was comfortable, like laying on a fluffy, white cloud.

And now that I was by myself, I could admit that I was slightly relieved not to be back at the apartment… Where there were dead bodies. I shuddered and pulled my blankets higher. And maybe I could admit that having someone else here was kind of… nice.

Plus, I took those meds earlier without really asking about them. At least someone would be here if I needed emergency help in the middle of the night.

Ben would help me. I knew it without question.

He had a trustworthy air about him, and even when he tried to remain stone-faced, his brown eyes gave him away. They were kind eyes.

Kind eyes.

I sat straight up in bed and let out a gasp.

My panic throughout the day clouded my mind and kept me from realizing.

It was him.

He was the one with the scarf and beanie, sincerely wondering if I was okay in that hell-hole of an apartment. He had to be. His eyes. They were the same brown with flecks of gold and honey.

And the way he ordered me to breathe in the elevator– how had I not realized right at that second? Then again, I was pretty busy fighting off a panic attack.

I slowly laid back down and snuggled into the comforter. That… changed things. Knowing it was him somehow made the situation more okay. I claimed Mildred saved me, and she did. But so did he.

I don’t know if it was fully the meds or knowing that he was the one down the hall, but I was thankfully able to drift to sleep.

_______

At some point in the night, my door creaked open, causing me to bolt up and scramble back to the headboard. For a split second, I was completely lost in the world, wondering why I wasn’t in my bedroom at home. As I gripped my blankets, the reality of my now came crashing back.

“Sorry,” Ben grimaced from where he stood in the doorway, shirtless. Only gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, which dipped into a v. His longish, dark hair fanned out under his ears. He grasped the back of his neck. “I… uh… didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered in that gravelly voice of his. “I was going to turn everything off for you.”

“No,” my throat felt like it was coated in ash.

His jaw ticked. He gave a swift nod.

My eyes were still a little blurry with sleep, but I could make out that he had a sleeve of tattoos, and no surprise– he was extremely ripped. I wished I could fully see his tattoos, see what he chose to draw on his body.

“It was you, wasn't it?” I asked before he could leave. “ You found me?”

He stayed silent and dropped his gaze to the floor.

I wouldn't be able to take it if he denied it, if he lied. “Your eyes. You asked me if I was okay,” I pushed.

His throat bobbed with a swallow. His grip on the doorknob seemed to harden, making the veins in his forearm pop out. He gave a slow, almost apprehensive nod, like he was nervous to tell me. “I’m sorry, Maggie.” His voice was thick with heavy regret and I didn’t understand why, until he said, “I’m sorry we didn’t catch him before today.”

I stared at him.

Gone was his annoyed attitude and mocking tone and larger than life presence. No. Now he looked like he was battling his own nighttime demons, trying to assuage his own misplaced guilt. Standing there in the doorway, his large shoulders curved in, his head hung low, he resembled a boy preparing for a beat down, but in need of a hug. And my heart went out to him.

An understanding seemed to pass between us. We were in this together.

I gave him a nod and that tense look on his face slightly softened.

His confirmation made the whole thing more okay. Knowing he was one and the same with the calm, steady guy leading me out of that hellish situation made me feel a little more safe– but I wouldn’t give him those words, not yet at least, not with how annoying he acted in the daytime.

“Get back to sleep, Mags.” He reached up and racked a hand through his hair, that tatted bicep flexing. He grimaced again before leaving. “Sorry I woke you.”

Mags. It hit me right in the chest. Only my family called me that, but it was kind of comforting coming from his lips. I pulled the blankets higher as a wave of guilt seeped into me… Was he missing a family of his own by being here with me?