Page 10 of Bodyguard Daddy

She giggles before pinching the bridge of her nose and nodding. The softest exhale escapes her perfectly kissable lips.

“Okay. I’m ready,” Cory tells me with one of those smiles that looks like it’s for the voters rather than for me.

With a watchful eye, I retreat to the rear of the room as Cory commands the attention of everyone in it. I find myself standing beside another security officer. There’s approximately 50 women in the room all waiting for Cory’s talking points, which will drive their hands into their large purses to give their hard-earned money to Bjorn’s campaign.

There’s a low chirping in my ear from another security officer in the lobby. I have my eyes open and ears wide with a mental picture of the threatening emails that landed me this job in the first place.

Cory’s speech is empowering, moving, and as I watch the women around the room, I can see why her father has her on the campaign trail. I wonder if she wants to do this for the rest of her life. I won’t have it if it doesn’t make her happy.

I know I’m assuming I’m going to be with her forever, but no one else deserves her love, her body, her sweet-tasting pussy more than me.

“Hey!” someone shouts from their seat. I start moving toward the podium as other officers move toward the woman who’s shouting. “How dare you tell us about all of these jobs Bjorn Girard plans to create and leave out the part where it’s to build a private prison right outside of our town?”

A round of gasps circles around the room. I can’t help but think. How much do these people research the politicians they support and contribute to?

Cory smiles and replies, “Senator Bjorn Girard is committed to the development of West Cucina and all of the counties of Nevada. Your concerns are valid. I’d like to point you toward the campaign’s website as well as the West Cucina City Hall development projects website to get all of your answers in regard to the ongoing projects surrounding our community.”

“This isn’t your community, rich girl,” the woman shouts and now she’s moving away from her table and closer to the podium. I make a beeline to intercept her before she gets to Cory and stand at the podium with all eyes on me.

“It’s time to go, Cory. Now,” I tell her as I see members of the crowd standing. Soon, security will be outnumbered. Questions start flying at Cory, and she nods in agreement that it’s time to leave.

She waves her hand in the air to silence them, but no one seems to be listening as Bjorn’s supporters argue the heckler down on Cory’s behalf. I lean in to whisper, “Cory we gotta get out of here. In a second, I’m not going to give you a choice in the matter.”

“Okay, just give me a second. I want to try to calm them down,” she tells me as the arguing escalates to shoving.

Two other women shout about guns and criminals while the heckler is still spouting facts about bringing a private prison to this small town. I can see the worry and uncertainty in Cory’s eyes.

I’m not waiting anymore. With a firm arm around her waist, I pull her away from the podium, spinning her toward a rear door while the fighting gets physical. Security officers swarm the chaos, and I pull Cory through a door out of the fray.

“Thanks, Collin,” she says, panting and her eyes shifting between me and the conference room behind me.

“Oh my shit, Corgi,” Lilibet shouts as she jogs over toward us with a member of the security team behind her. “What is happening? We need to party and kill these nasty vibes. You two are definitely coming tonight! See you then. Oh and take the parking garage exit. It’s a mob out front with reporters and that awful woman obsessed with prisons. Like what does she think this is? Shawshank?”

Lilibet finishes spewing her frustrations and charges out with her security officer right behind her.

“Do you want to head to the bookstore?” I ask Cory, thinking of her itinerary.

Cory simply shakes her head from side to side. “I might need to reschedule that event for a different day and try to get a hold of Bjorn. I need to know how he wants to specifically address the concerns of the voters. I can’t believe this shit is happening. I can’t wait to stop this.”

My ears perk up. “You don’t want to do this? The whole campaign trail stuff?”

I’m trying to listen out for the commotion to see if it’s dying down or getting worse. Cory’s staring off into space, but still, she answers me. “No. I told Bjorn that once I graduate, I’m done. I busted my ass to graduate early to simply get out from under his thumb.”

“What do you want to do?” I ask. Slowly, I begin ushering her toward the parking lot where the SUV waits for us.

Cory’s silent until we get inside the car. “I don’t know, Collin. I have a business degree and some computer programming classes under my belt. I never thought this far ahead. I just wanted to graduate so I’d no longer be obligated to Bjorn since he paid for my education.”

“Do you think he’s going to ask for the money back if you stop campaigning?”

She grumbles, folding her arms over her breasts. “He probably will, but hey, he’ll get it like any other private lender, when I have it.”

“How much?”

She tips her head to the side with a quizzical gaze that catches me in the rearview mirror as I drive us back to her apartment building.

I bring the car to a stop and turn around to face her. “I asked you a question, Cory.”

“You can’t be serious, Collin. Never ask how much the bill is if you don’t intend to pay it.”

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