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"Yes, but I don't think you have to run. I think you just maybe have to talk to him and let him know how important it is for you to have your own life."
"You know him. As far as he is concerned, I will never be free."
And that was true. I should talk to him if he was a rational human being, but he wasn't. And I thought about my job rejection. I had no idea what to do. I was trapped and cornered, and all I wanted was a little piece of freedom.
I waited by the door as Westin searched the flat, then he gave me an all-clear nod. I came in and hung my bag on the hook by the door like I always did. I wanted to scream. I just wanted some fucking freedom. A chance to live like a normal person. But was this how it was going to be? Every job I applied for, every interview I took, had my father gotten to them? Was he the one keeping me from my life?
No. It's not possible. How did he even know?
I eyed Westin. To be fair, I'd interviewed at both places before he'd come on as my bodyguard, so there was no way he could have known.
He was very good with computers though. It's not like he couldn't find out.
Fuck. I frowned and stared at him. He lifted his gaze toward me as he put on the kettle. "What, you don't want tea?"
"Did you tell my father about my interviews?"
His brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"My interviews, did you tell my father?"
"When would I have told your father? And also, I didn't know you had interviews."
I searched his gaze, and something told me he was telling the truth, but God, the feeling of it. It felt like this had my father written all over it, and Westin was the only person close enough to have access to that information. "You're his plant, aren't you?'
"You think I had access to information about you before I came here and only just now used it?"
I realized I was being a bit hasty. "I don't know. Do you know how badly I wanted this?"
"I'm sorry, Nissa. But look, I'm sure something else will come along."
I shook my head. "No, nothing else is coming along this. I know what he does."
"I'm sorry." I could hear the sincerity in his voice. I could feel it in my bones. He was sorry. "What can I do? Is there any way I can help?"
I eyed the tickets on the counter for the concert that he’d told me I couldn't go to. "Let me go to the concert."
He coughed. "No, absolutely not. I know you're upset and looking for some way to lash out, but no, I can't let you do that."
"Well, you can't stop me, Westin."
"On the contrary, that is precisely the reason I'm here. That's a security risk. I can't let you go to that."
"You can't keep me trapped. My whole life, I’ve been stuck. I just want to be free."
"And I'm sorry. I am, but you can't go."
I stared at the tickets for a long moment as I leaned on the counter, rocking from foot to foot, watching him. "You're here to protect me, right?"
"Yes, and you have to understand I would give my whole life to keep you safe."
"So you said. You can only keep me safe from people that hurt me, right?"
He frowned. "I don't know where this is going, but I don't like it."
"All I'm asking is, are you my jailer, or are you my bodyguard?"
He sighed. "I'm your bodyguard, that's it."
