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Maybe I really do need a bodyguard.
ChapterTen
Hayes
I’ve only been truly afraid twice in my life.
The first time was during the car accident that gave me this scar and killed my parents.
The second was turning around and seeing Betty looking devastated as I talked to her dad.
I deserve for her to run away from me, I know that I do after I betrayed her, but that doesn’t stop me from chasing after her out into the rain.
“Betty, please!” I call as I jump down the front porch steps and into the mud in my socks.
I catch up to her, my hands going around her shoulders and spinning her so that she’s facing me. There’s rain dropping onto her face but I can still make out the tears streaming down between the raindrops and my heart breaks.
I did this to her.
“I’m an idiot,” I mumble and she just stares at me. “I can explain though.”
“Save it. I don’t want to hear it,” she says, her voice hard with anger and I hate it.
“Please, just hear me out,” I beg her, my hands clasping between us and she glances down at them, her expression softening slightly.
When she glances back up at me though, her gaze is hard.
“I love you,” I tell her and she looks away, anger radiating off of her in waves.
“No, you don’t. You can’t.”
“I do,” I argue but she shakes her head.
“Then I can’t believe it.”
“Betty,” I start but she cuts me off.
“I can’t believe that I bought all of this,” she says, waving her hand at me standing in front of her pitifully. “When all along you were just doing your job.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Sure, it is.”
“Protecting you is the best job. One that I would gladly do, without pay, for the rest of my life.”
She pauses at that and I rush to keep talking before she can get mad at me or try to leave again.
“I love you, Betty. I need you in my life. It’s meaningless without you.”
She stares at me, her green eyes searching my face, and I try to show just how much she means to me with a look. I’m sure that I don’t pull it off. I’ve never been good at showing my feelings and Betty means too much.
“I know that you don’t remember,” I go on. “But the night that we met, you asked me to marry you.”
She opens her mouth to say something, or maybe it just dropped open in shock. Either way, I press on.
“And I said yes.”
“It was just the rum talking,” she says but there’s no force behind it.
