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He smirks at me. “Tough.” He smiles.
I rearrange my cardigan and fold my arms as my anger rises again. I can’t believe I am now being followed, by his paparazzi. For his mistakes. This has got to take the cake.
“I am going to ring Joshua and tell him you need extra protection for a while.” Max mutters while watching the road, and the wipers come on automatically as it starts to sprinkle rain.
My heart sinks. I wish I could ring Joshua. I would dearly love to hear his velvety deep voice. I miss him … already. My sad eyes stare out the window—this is so unfair. He has made this painful bed for me and now unfortunately I have to lie in it … alone.
“You can tell him that you are the only bodyguard I will have, or he can forget it.”
Max’s eyes flick to me. “I’m not telling him that—you should ring him if you have something to say.”
I fake a smile. “Nice try Max, I am not ringing him. I am not texting him and I am definitely not thinking about him. If you don’t tell him that then I won’t have a bodyguard at all. I don’t care, it’s up to you.”
“Natasha, you have cost me my job already. Do not start pulling your two-year-old tantrums now, because I won’t stand for it,” he snaps.
I narrow my eyes as my temperature rises. Now even Max is pissing me off. Actually is there anything in the world that doesn’t piss me off? I nearly punched the screen on the treadmill today when it wouldn’t give me my calories burned. I have some serious anger issues going on. It will be better when I get back to work next week—I just need to keep busy.
Chapter 8
I’m cut. So deep that I can feel myself bleeding out, gasping for air … for life. If I was hooked up to a heart-rate monitor it would show the weakening of my heartbeat every hour, every minute without him. The sound of the beep would be getting softer beat by beat. I feel like a plant that has been starved of the sun, in total darkness. I don’t know how to not love Joshua Stanton. I have loved him for every minute of every hour of every day since I was a seventeen-year-old girl. He was my life, my every dream and until now I didn’t realise what an ingrained part of my psyche he was. I dream of him nearly every night. Horrible nightmares, ones where we are in the tunnel and he is being beaten to death and I am raped, or the other dream, the one where I am forced to watch him make tender passionate love to Amelie. It’s so real that I can see the sheen of perspiration on his body, hear his cries as his orgasms rip through him. Feel him quiver with need, kiss her lips as they both gasp for air. I don’t know which dream I dread the most, they are both horrific. But it’s the vision of Joshua and Amelie making love that haunts me throughout my working day. Are they making love right now?
I sit in my office staring out the window, lost in my own regret. It’s 7 am. I have been working ridiculous hours to escape the small talk of the girls in my apartment. Max is in the park, Ben has asked him to stay with me until the media circus dies down. Except now there are three other guards as well, and I don’t have a minute of privacy. I should just issue a statement saying we are not or never have been married, but I just can’t do it. It’s the final nail in my coffin that I don’t have the strength to hammer in. How did it get to this? I have been back at work for a week and my mind is far from being on the job. I still haven’t got a new phone—I’m too scared. Scared he will call, scared that he won’t. I can’t have him in my life, I know that. But the thought that he could move on with her tears my heart wide open.
I am dreading the weekend like the plague. I can’t even pretend not to be sad and I feel bad for the girls who are constantly trying to cheer me up and pull me out of this funk.
Now I have to call Adrian as Nicholas Anastas is on my case. He has come into work twice this week. He’s keen, I will give him that. My little hard-to-get act was very effective. Abbie is right, this shit actually works.
I feel sick knowing I have to make this call, I slowly dial his number. It rings.
He picks up. “Adrian Murphy.”
I panic and hang up as tears rush to my eyes. Who am I kidding? I can’t talk to Adrian, he’s Joshua’s best friend. I need to distance myself from everybody in his circle. Too bad, I’m making an executive decision. Nicholas can have Adrian’s number. I text it to him immediately from my work phone before I can second guess myself—the way I feel at the moment the bloody grim reaper can have his number.
Adrian
I sit on my deck chair beside Cameron as I feel the warmth of the sun dance on my skin. We both watch him glide through the water in silence. It’s 1 pm and Cam and I are on our second beer as we ponder how in the hell to keep him occupied for the weekend.
“How many laps can he actually do?” Cameron asks.
I shrug. “A lot, it seems. More than us anyway.”
Cameron smirks. “That wouldn’t be hard.”
It has been eight days since we lost Natasha and she consequently returned to Australia. Joshua has been a fucking nightmare. He’s training like a man possessed, his way of burning that extra energy, extra anger. He still can’t fly for another six days.
“What do you want to do tonight?” I ask.
Cameron shrugs “Has Ben finished the security tapes yet?”
“No, still no idea of what hospital that guy got his cast on at.”
“At least when we find the hospital we will have a name to track.” Cameron sighs as he lays back and closes his eyes as his face tilts to the sun.
“Didn’t you say you had to go into work today?” I frown.
He nods as he takes a sip of his beer. “I was just going into pathology to get some blood tests, but now that I’ve been drinking that’s not going to happen.”
“What are the blood tests for?”
