Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Allora
By the time I get discharged it’s early afternoon, and I’m ready for a nap but I’m too wired to actually sleep. Landon helps me into his truck and then he goes in circles around the city, to make sure we’re not being followed. Once he’s convinced it’s safe, we get on the freeway and head north.
My father stopped by right before we left the hospital and gave me a thousand dollars in cash, telling me I could repay him as soon as I get access to my bank again. I know he doesn’t want the money back, but he’s aware that the only way I’ll take it is as a loan.
Dad and I are still navigating this new relationship we’ve been forging since Mom died.
She was the glue that kept us together, and without her we’re struggling.
The one thing about my dad is that I know he loved her.
Probably more than he loves me, which is equal parts sweet and sad.
She was a special woman. It’s been four years and I still reach for the phone to call her, so I can only imagine how hard it is for him.
“You okay?” Landon asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“I miss my mom,” I admit softly. “She’s been gone four years, but it still feels like yesterday that she died.”
“I’m sorry. My mom died when I was a baby so I don’t remember her, and my dad’s a mean drunk that I cut contact with a long time ago. Luckily, I have a sister, and now a brother-in-law, a nephew, and a niece on the way.”
I smile. “That’s nice. You also have Elliott.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “He’s the brother I never had. Literally. I love him more than any blood relatives other than my sister.”
Interesting.
I wouldn’t take Landon for the type of man who admits loving another man so it’s refreshing that he’s so confident in his masculinity. But I mean, why wouldn’t he be?
“I have friends, but the relationship with my father is difficult and the club just isn’t my scene.”
“You grew up in it, right?”
“I did. And that’s why. I know what they do and I just can’t be a part of that kind of violence, all the illegal activity, not to mention the…
lifestyle. Drinking, drugs, wild parties.
Women are second-class citizens in that world.
My mom worked really hard to change some of that, so my dad’s a million times better than he used to be, but a leopard never truly changes his spots. ”
“Well, you can’t expect him to be someone he’s not. From where I’m sitting, he’s been pretty respectful of what you want.”
“Yeah, but I know he would rather throw me over his shoulder, drag me to the clubhouse, and lock me in a room for the next five years or whenever he deems it safe.”
“I think as protectors, we just want the people we love to be safe. I can’t imagine how I would react if it were my daughter who was kidnapped and brutalized.”
“That’s why I’m cutting him some slack but deep down, he wishes I would settle down with Pete and become a club wife. Like my mom. Carry on the legacy.” I shudder just thinking about it.
“Are you an only child?”
I nod. “Yup. And a girl, so I imagine my dad was disappointed even though he’s never said it in so many words.”
“That’s tough. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.” I lean back in the seat and stare out at nothing. I have so much to do but I’m suddenly overwhelmed and frustrated.
And hungry again.
“My apartment is small,” Landon says after a while. “But you can have the bedroom. I have a big sectional where I can stretch out in the living room. That way, you’ll have some privacy.”
“I hate kicking you out of your own bed,” I say contritely.
“Nah. I manage on about five hours of sleep anyway, so I’d be annoying you at the ass crack of dawn if you were on the couch.”
“Thank you. I wish I knew why you’re being so nice.”
“Rescuing you was pure, random luck. Right place, right time. And now you’re officially a client.”
For some reason, that bothers me.
“What?” he asks when I don’t say anything.
“It feels weird for you to call me a client. And if I’m a client, shouldn’t I have been the one to hire you? I don’t recall having that conversation.”
“We kind of danced around it at the hospital, but your dad and Daniil, my boss, worked it out once I told them that you were going to stay at my place.”
I grunt with annoyance even though I know I’m being irrational. “Someone could have asked me.”
“You want to get your dad or Daniil on the phone?”
Do I?
Not really.
It’s kind of nice not to have to think about anything right now. I have enough going on in my head without dealing with money, contracts, or whatever else is in the works.
“Even when I was modeling, I had a few magazine covers that put me out there for a while…but I never felt unsafe. I was no supermodel, but I worked all the time. My face was starting to become recognizable.”
“What happened with modeling? Why did you stop?”
“I was tired of being hungry all the time and playing the game you have to play to get anywhere in that world. Who you know, who you’ll sleep with, who you hang out with.
” I wrinkle my nose. “It was exhausting. And then a friend asked me to help her with a new headshot. She was broke and I had a nice camera, so I did it and the pictures were amazing. One thing led to another, and I started getting more photography work than modeling jobs—and I wasn’t sad about it. ”
“Always a good thing when you find your calling.”
“Is this your calling?” I ask curiously. “Being a bodyguard?”
He hesitates. “I suppose it is. I went into the military because that was the only way to afford college, but I wound up loving it. Trained for Special Forces and realized I got off on the danger, but I also liked how it felt to be making a difference in the world. Even when we wouldn’t necessarily see the long-term results of our missions. ”
“That’s nice,” I say thoughtfully. “Although I’m not sure I understand the part about getting off on danger.”
“I don’t fully understand it myself. It’s just this deep-seated need to run headfirst into the fire. Don’t get me wrong, I know how to protect myself. I’m well-trained and extremely cautious.”
“You’re cautious while simultaneously throwing caution to the wind? That shouldn’t make sense but it does.”
“Does it?” He smiles. “Most people just nod and then roll their eyes when I say stuff like that.”
“You’re self-aware and not playing games. You understand yourself, and a lot of people don’t. Probably the ones who roll their eyes at you.”
He chuckles. “I never made that correlation but you’re probably right.”
We sit in companionable silence for a while and then he asks, “How are you doing, Allora? I mean, underneath the tough exterior you portray. Do you need anything?”
“Ugh. Why’d you have to go and get all serious?”
“Because it’s too easy to pretend everything is fine and sweep it all under the rug. But take it from someone who knows—it will come back to bite you in the ass.”
“How do you know what I’m going through?” I ask slowly.
“I was captured in the Middle East,” he says in a soft voice. “Three weeks of daily torture. Humiliation. Starvation. Sleep deprivation. It wasn’t exactly the same but it was bad. You feel helpless, powerless, all the different emotions that you probably experienced as well.”
I think about that before responding. “I guess I’m okay for now.
I have too many other things to think about than what happened to me.
I need to cancel my credit cards, replace my lost license, stuff like that.
Short-term, all I care about is food, reaching out to a handful of people, and figuring out if my car is still there. ”
“I meant to tell you,” he says. “Rage already found it. It was still there. With a bunch of tickets but I’m thinking you could fight that in court.”
I groan. “Just what I need—to show up in court!”
“At least they didn’t tow it.”
“I suppose. And that’s another thing—getting a new key fob for the car. This fucking kidnapping is going to cost me a fortune.”
“I’ll help any way I can.”
“You already are.” I glance at him curiously. “You’re not what I envision a badass bodyguard to be.”
“No? What did you envision?”
“Honestly, I never gave it a lot of thought—it just wasn’t someone like you. Thoughtful. Soft spoken. I guess I imagined guys like you would be big and dumb. Sorry, that’s a terrible stereotype on my part.”
“It’s okay. I like when people think I’m dumb because they underestimate me.”
“Anyone who underestimates you would have to be pretty fucking stupid.”