Connected Blood

6 - Unwanted Protection

"What are you doing?" I asked, looking at him confused. He didn't answer, just kept staring at Thirdy, who was just as puzzled.

"Who's that? Do you know him?" Thirdy asked me, trying to reach for me again, but the man stepped in front of me, blocking him.

"What's going on?" I muttered, pushing him away.

"I'm just doing my job," he said, standing his ground, still cold and stiff.

I furrowed my brow. "What did Max tell you?"

He stayed silent.

"Did she hire you as my bodyguard?" I asked again, and he nodded.

"She didn’t even ask me if I wanted one," I added, crossing my arms in annoyance.

"And calm down, that's my doctor," I said, trying to get him out of my face. At that, he stepped aside and stood next to me, bowing slightly as if to apologize. But I couldn’t shake the discomfort I felt looking at him. He was like a robot—too stiff, too serious, and his whole vibe was just cold.

"Sorry, but I have to go," I said to Thirdy and walked toward the hospital exit, not waiting for him to follow. Who would, with someone like that around? I felt like one wrong move, and he'd snap.

When I reached the door of my car, I stopped and faced him seriously. "I don’t know what Max told you, but I’m not okay with you being my bodyguard. I don’t need one."

I didn’t expect an answer, but he surprised me.

"Sorry, but you can’t fire me. You didn’t hire me," he said firmly, his tone almost like he was the one in charge here.

I was about to turn around when he took the keys from my hand, opened the car door, and slid into the driver’s seat.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice getting sharper.

"I’m your bodyguard, I’m driving," he said without hesitation, looking at me seriously.

"You’re not even asking if I’m okay with this?" I muttered under my breath but got into the back seat, frustrated. I didn’t need anyone watching over me. I could handle myself just fine.

"Where are we going?" he asked, his voice breaking the silence as he started the car.

"Home. I don’t have any appointments," I replied, staring out the window.

He drove quietly, and I just kept my gaze fixed on the passing scenery. But when I saw a truck coming towards us, an unsettling feeling crept in. The memory of the accident came flooding back—the blaring horn of the truck, the screeching tires, the darkness that followed.

Without warning, I froze, my body tensing, and then I screamed. My heart raced as the truck came closer in my mind. It was like I could feel the fear all over again.

He slammed on the brakes immediately, and I could hear the worry in his voice.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his tone softer now as he looked at me through the rearview mirror.

I didn’t know how to answer him. I felt a wave of panic rising in me, and before I knew it, tears were falling, no matter how hard I tried to hold them back. The fear was still too fresh, too real.

Without saying anything else, he got out of the car and came around to my side. He opened the door, knelt in front of me, and gently cupped my face in his hands, checking me over for any signs of injury.

I stared at him, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, but there was something about the way he was looking at me—his serious face had softened with concern.

"Tell me what’s wrong," he said, his voice calm but filled with a strange peace that only made me more uncomfortable.

I realized he was too close, too touchy, so I pushed him away, making him stumble back and sit on the ground in surprise.

"Don’t touch me. Just do your job and take me home," I snapped, moving away from him, not wanting to deal with whatever was happening between us.

He didn’t argue. He just stood up and returned to the driver's seat, starting the car again. I didn’t look at him as he drove, focusing instead on the streets outside the window.

I could feel his gaze on me through the rearview mirror, but I ignored it. It was his job to make sure I was okay, right?

A heavy sigh escaped me as I realized something. I wasn’t okay. I thought I would be after leaving the hospital, but the trauma was still there, lurking beneath the surface. I wasn’t just scared of trucks now; I was scared of driving.

Maybe I should be thankful someone else was driving. Who knew what could happen if I was behind the wheel again?

I hadn’t even realized we had arrived at my house until the car came to a stop. I looked around and recognized my garden. Without a word, I opened the door and got out.

Then, it hit me—how did he know where I lived? I turned to him, and he had just gotten out of the car too.

I confronted him right away. "How did you know where I live?"

He flinched at the question, clearly caught off guard. "Stalker? Did you apply as my bodyguard just to find out about my life?"

I leaned in closer to him, pressing him with more questions, but before he could respond, someone else spoke up.

"I told him," a familiar voice said. I looked over and saw Matthew getting out of his car, followed by Max, who was right behind him.

"You’re making this harder than it needs to be," Max added with a light laugh. "It’s not like we can be there with you all the time, keeping track of your schedule and appointments."

Matthew walked up to me, giving me a small smile. "Meet Draco, your newly hired bodyguard."

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. A bodyguard? Seriously?