THE BODYGUARD

CHAPTER FOUR

Sebastene's POV

Flashback: Two Years Ago

"Get down! Retreat!"

There were gunshot sounds everywhere. Bullets whizzing to and fro from every direction.

I lay very still behind a small rock that had been my cover for hours before everything went haywire. It was hard to hear any other thing clearly outside my pounding heart and gunshots.

"We've been compromised! Again, retreat to th—" The other end of the communication circuit went abruptly silent, followed by a thud and loud crackling sound that made me squirm in my position, both from realization of what just happened and from the unpleasantness of the crackling sound.

"Well, there goes the general," came Kira's voice on the line.

"Guys! What happened?" Sahib, an Indian sniper on the mission with us, came through breathlessly.

"We've been compromised!"

"God damnit. Tomorrow is my birthday."

"We're supposed to pity you?"

I rolled my eyes and tried my best to zone out of the commotion going on.

With my heart still thudding loudly and violently in my ears, I steadied my gun and looked through the lenses. Steady, Sebastene... slow, steady, and thorough.

From the lens, I could see three men on the other side of the hill patrolling the length of the roof. The shot looked impossible. We'd already been identified and compromising my position was even more fatal.

By now there was more and more commotion on the communication circuit. Holy s**t.

I took a deep breath, zoomed in on the first target, and pulled the trigger.

His body jerked once before going slack, brain matter splattering against the wall behind him.

The second masked figure froze—then turned, searching for the source of the shot.

The figure looked towards where he thought the shot came from, giving me the luxury of shooting with ease. I released the breath I was holding a little bit. One more to go and I was in the clear to run from my hiding spot before this hill got blown up. Is that possible? Yes. Oh, hell yes. You never trust these kinds of people. More reason being the fact I don't even know who the heck they are. I was just hired to shoot.

Once more, the communication circuit buzzed in my ears. God damnit.

Without thinking, I moved my hands up to unplug the right ear. Fatal mistake. Because as the second one was just a millimeter out of my ear, I heard a faint voice from the circuit scream, "Watch out, Sebastene!" At least that's what I thought, but I didn't dare to plug it back in. In a span of two seconds, I had my gun in my hand and my eyes to the lenses. I scanned through the lens until I focused on a figure, and worse still, he or she had a high-caliber gun that carried explosives, and guess what—it was pointed straight at me.

"Oh shit." I dropped the gun, stood up, and ran—maybe three feet from my hiding place—before the explosion propelled me forward.

* * *

Present Day

I jerked awake.

A face appeared from the left corner, but it was blurry. I shut my eyes tight to try to clear it because for some reason my hands were bound in some kind of restraint.

"You're okay, Seb... you're okay."

I opened my eyes, and this time I could see him clearly.

He'd moved his chair closer to my bed and he had a blank look on his face. So much for my racing heart.

"Hi," he said.

I rolled my eyes. "You almost took my life."

"No, I didn't. The incoming car did."

Wait, what? How does he feel nonchalant after this? I shot daggers at him with my eyes and he only shrugged.

"My hands are bound." He remained cool.

"You had episodes in your sleep for the past three days."

Three days?!

"I don't remember that."

He shrugged again, stood up, and walked to the window. Only then did I take in the details of the hospital room I was in.

"It's quite fancy... the room."

He didn't reply. A wave of anger washed through me. I couldn't understand why, but I couldn't help it either.

"You owe me a little conversation, at least."

He turned from the window and crossed his arms, bulging his biceps through his vest. My heart did a series of impressive handstands that I chose to ignore.

"I'm sorry." He paused. "Isn't that all I'm supposed to say to you?"

What the hell. Somebody please take me back to the scene from my past that I'd just revisited in my dream.

I'd rather be blown up in bits by the explosive than be here with this nonchalant, spoiled brat of a billionaire.

"Get out." My calm voice was a very sharp contrast to the bubbling anger I was feeling, even though I couldn't explain why.

"Okay," he said simply and walked out the door.

Okay? Holy s**t. I'm f****d.

* * *

Marcus's POV

She'd been in a coma for three days. Three whole days. I thought I'd killed her.

The accident scene and the police station scene went by in a flash, and soon we were on the news.

Yes. Yes, of course I received the biggest warning of my life from my parents, and usually I wouldn't care, but... why do I feel so heavy in my chest?

I'd made my way defiantly to the hospital and I demanded to stay with her. I could only get to stay a few hours for security reasons.

This morning I was in her room, watching her breath rise and fall. She looked beautiful and peaceful in her sleep. Wait, Marcus, what?!

Suddenly her eyes flew open and I stumbled backwards in shock, and partly so that she wouldn't see me staring at her up close like that.

"You're okay, Seb... you're okay," I heard myself whispering. Seb? What the f**k!

She finally seemed coordinated and stared me down. Somebody help me. What do I say?

"Hi." She shot spears at me with her eyes.

"You almost took my life," she said. I know. That's what I wanted to say, but...

"No, I didn't. The incoming car did."

I stood up and walked to the window. She said a couple things that I wasn't paying attention to but somehow replied to.

What is wrong with me today!

Suddenly she was asking for an apology. I seriously wanted to, and I don't know why I didn't. Or did I? I don't know.

And now she's sending me out. I don't care... right?

I was just staring at her face. As I walked out of the room, I somehow knew that I'm in for a big problem for the next couple of months.

"Holy s**t," was all I could say.