Page 7 of Breakaway
"I'd take on the role the entire time you were under my protection, which I believe goes until the end of your contract with Mauve. If we need to extend that, we can discuss it then. Rules would be whatever you need to feel comfortable with the arrangement."
"I–" I close my mouth before finishing the thought.
I'm not even sure what I want to say. I'm struggling to convey to anyone here that I don't care what we do, as long as I can fallasleep in my bed at night without the fear of someone breaking in and doing something to me. I want to live my life without the knowledge that someone broke into my home, stole all of my underwear, and has been selling them on some third-party resale site. There is very little I'd do at this point if it meant there was a chance I could go back to a reality where I was safe.
Zill's features soften, his head tilting to the side a little. His eyes don't leave my face, but he talks to Mauve. "I think Reese and I need to have a conversation without you calling the shots."
Mauve stands from her chair without further prompting, her comm in her hand. She pats Marr on the chest as she walks past him. "Come, let's discuss travel plans in my office while these two figure out their arrangement."
Marr doesn't follow Mauve. Instead, he looks at me, a question on his face as if he's making sure I feel safe enough to be left alone with a stranger. I mean, it's Mauve's son. As much as I didn't think she had a maternal bone in her body, she must've kept it hidden because I looked into the company she hired Zill from. They're legitimate, and they do a lot of good work in the universe. It makes sense now as to why he took on my job, even though when I first saw all of their credentials, I thought I wasn't one of their usual client types.
I give Marr a short nod and a small smile. It's not that I want him to leave, but this is a conversation that needs to be had with just the two of us. Zill is in my head already. We can get it all out in the open, decide if he's comfortable going through Mauve's plan, or if this is asking too much of him. Either way, it's a conversation I want to keep between the two of us. Mauve and Marr don't need to know that I find him attractive or that I hope he's willing to go through with this plan, because even if there's only a slight chance it'll help make me feel safe, I'm willing to take it.
Zill doesn't move until the door to the conference room closes. He's deliberate in his movements, his eyes on me, watching like he knows just how skittish I am since all of this started happening. When he takes the seat that Mauve had been sitting in, he spins around to face me, his legs spread, but far enough from me that he's not trapping me where I'm sitting. He rests his arms on his thighs, leaning in slightly, and offers me a gentle smile.
"Will you tell me how you're really feeling about all of this?" he asks, and I burst into tears.
CHAPTER 4
ZILL
Breaking News! Empress's alien harem is actually her new protective detail, according to a statement made by her agent. Would we be surprised if they were both?
Okay, so this is going poorly already. What am I supposed to do? Reese is sobbing, her tears wetting the fabric of my shirt. And whether or not I want to admit it to myself, I'm enjoying being the one she's reaching to for comfort.
When she first burst into tears, I had the gut reaction to pull her close to me. So that's how she is now, practically sitting in my lap with my arms banded around her as she cries.
Usually, if this were happening, I'd at least be able to read the person's thoughts to figure out what they need, but Sombrans have a wonderful little quirk where they can't read their soulbond's mind until they complete their bond to one another. Our shadows, in all their unhelpfulness, think we could sway our soulbond's opinion, force them to be with us even if it's not reciprocated. So they protect their minds just as most Sombrans are taught to guard their own.
My shadows have a vise-like grip around Reese's mind, and there's not a soul in the world who could make them relent inprotecting her from me, even if they're doing me the disservice of not knowing what to do in this situation. They might be the ones keeping me from being in her mind, but they're also screeching at me to make it better, to make our soulbond no longer sad. They don't seem to grasp that I could do that if they would just let me into her thoughts.
I ask for them to drop the protective shield, and they scream about guarding her from me messing with her mind, as if I'm going to do that. It's just one of their quirks. As much as I hate it in this moment, I can't blame them when they're doing what they think is right to keep Reese safe.
"Sorry," Reese says, her words muffled against my chest.
I haven't known what to do with my hands, so they've been awkwardly pressed against her back, rigid and unmoving. She pushes away from me, and I let my arms fall heavy at my sides, not wanting to make her feel trapped against me. I've already taken far too many liberties, considering we barely know one another.
It was clear on her face that she was as aware of my mother's plans as I was. The fact that I want to bond with her has no bearing on how she feels about the whole situation. If I'm going to do as my mother said, which I am because I'll be damned if I let anyone else watch over Reese, I'm going to have to pretend as though I'm not interested in Reese any more than any other Sombran would be. The fact that I'm wondering for the first time in my life how soft a woman's skin might feel against mine, how she might look if I were above her, between her legs, will only cause issues for me that I will deal with when I have a moment alone with myself.
Reese doesn't need to know about my affections, as new as they are, until she wishes to know of them. I won't force her into a relationship with me, not when my mother is already doing that. Nothing but me being sent back to the ship and sendingKolos in my place will come from me admitting now that I wish for her in real ways instead of the false feelings Mauve wants us to pretend to have for one another.
"You're fine," I say as Reese finally lifts away from my chest.
She sniffles softly, wiping away the last of her tears. As much as my shadows and I hate her crying, she is still the most beautiful woman we've ever seen. Granted, we've never appreciated anyone's appearance in the way we appreciate Reese's, but that's neither here nor there.
I lift my hand, my shadows racing up and dripping from my fingertips, to brush her cheek. I stop myself since it isn't a gesture her bodyguard would make. I never attempt to touch any of my clients unless necessary, and yet here's Reese, sitting in my lap while I comfort her.
My shadows kept themselves from touching her while she was crying, unsure what the protocol was in that regard. Now that she looks more like she's okay, they want to wrap themselves tightly around her, cover her in them until she is every bit theirs as I want her to be mine. And if I'm going to do my job and remain professional, they aren't going to touch her. I force them to the floor, where they grumble in my mind but relent.
"I've just been going through a lot, and normally I wait until I'm in my room alone to cry. I guess you're in my head, though, so it felt safer to do it now since you probably knew it was going to happen anyway."
Reese lets out a self-deprecating laugh and pats my chest. Her eyes go wide as she looks from her hand up to my face, her somewhat happier expression morphing into one of horror as she scrambles out of my lap, almost as though she was unaware she was there until just that moment.
"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have–"
"Reese," I stand and step toward her, hoping to stop her pacing before she gets herself all worked up over nothing. "You were crying. I had no problems being the one you leaned on for support." And then to cover just how true those words are, and not because I was hired to help her, I add. "I wouldn't be a very good bodyguard if you didn't feel safe around me, now would I?"
I leave off the part where comforting someone as they cry is nowhere even remotely close to being in my wheelhouse, and I've never once had a client sit in my lap and cling to me for comfort. As far as Reese needs to know, this is all still perfectly normal.
