My Escort

Ocean Apart

"Um . . . not really, Ma'am. I just had one little question considering that you weren't in a right mind last night when my boys questioned you," he says.

"And . . . Well . . . Although your husband instructed that anything should go through your lawyer, I still need to hear this from you. I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't. Go ahead." I sit up. "Okay. What I want to ask is a bit personal.” He sounds hesitant at first but I know he’s thick skinned so he’ll ask anyway. “Um, let’s see,” I mutter.

“You caught your husband cheating on you with his ex-wife about four months ago, right?" he asks blatantly.

What? How does he know that? I glower irritably. "I don't see how relevant that question is to the case," I retort. I don't like my privacy exposed. "Trust me, it probably does," he replies.

"I'll consider your cryptic silence as a yes. And you smashed her brand new car to a wreck, didn't you?" Oh f**k! Now everyone must know how maniac Mia actually is.

"Yeah, I did. And so?" I return, irritated at the memory. "Nothing. I'm just trying to look for some loose ends." I scowl.

"Are you suggesting that my husband's ex-wife is the one responsible for all the attacks?" I ask him, slowly regaling the idea.

I mean, the old b***h does hate me. And she clearly declared that she'd make me pay for taking what's rightful hers. It’s an old song, though.

"No, I didn't say that. I'm only trying to gather every information I can get. I heard you've left Portland? I hope you stay safe," he says and we hang up after goodbyes.

I don't get the time to meditate this call as there's a knock on the door. Soft, three knocks are Red's style. It's him.I quickly bury myself under the duvet and pretend to be asleep. The door flicks open and I hear familiar steps scrambling in. I hold my breath; I clutch the duvet as tightly as I can.

When did I decide to revisit my childhood?This was so my style knowing I was guilty of something. "Madam?" he calls gently, perhaps to make sure I'm truly dozed off. Madam yourself! I mentally roll my eyes.

He sighs soundly and I begin hearing his steps heading rightward, the bathroom direction. The door opens afterwards, and then shuts, and he's gone. I sigh heavily as I ease my body out of suffocation. It's going to be a long night.

Red exits from the bathroom all refreshed. As always he's breathtakingly hot despite being fully dressed in his previous clothes. My eyes are on him, and he's startled that I'm awake, seated Indian-style on the bed.

"How are we going to sleep?" I blurt out, my voice arctic. "I'll take the coach. Stay in bed," he answers coolly while shutting the door behind him. I say no more.

I lie down facing the window, my back facing him. I'm suddenly feeling down and lonely now that he's right here in the same place I am, yet oceans apart.

What is he doing to me? After a short moment the lights go off, and Red occupies the couch that's not farther from the bed. I roll over to face the white ceiling above me.

A deafening silence blankets us. I feel restless. I pluck my phone and turn some music on. Bobby Dylan starts the melancholy lyrics of Knocking on heaven's door, my good excuse to let out the tears whenever I feel like.

Everything I've been holding back surges speedily. The fire in my working studio and all the new collection burned.

The reckless car chase that got me really scared, and the gunshots in my husband's club which followed by some people trying to get me in the parking lot.

"Are you okay?" Red asks quietly, deep concerns lacing his voice. I had no idea tears were cascading across my face until now that I'm sniffing. "I guess," I murmur, catching a breath to reclaim my inner equilibrium.

"Depends on who's asking. Is it Red my bodyguard? Or Red my—"

"Which one would Madam prefer?" Red cuts me off, and his question feels like a

coquettish demand. Red my husband.

"The one I didn't mention," I answer softly, whirling my head to face him despite the darkness. He's lying on his back, his arms crossed behind his head.

"But never mind me. I'm reeling my insanity." I sigh deeply. Another reign of silence follows. "You're a very brave woman," Red utters out of nowhere. I narrow my eyes at him.

"With everything going on, I'm amazed whenever I see your smile. Er . . . I mean—" he stutters and I find myself giggling.

And weirdly I'm imagining him laughing soundlessly.

"I'm scared, Red. I really am.

But I can never let show," I confess matter-of-factly, my eyes on his majestic body. "I can't give my enemy the satisfaction," I mutter under my breath, sighing exhaustedly.

"I know," Red answers. "Red, do you really think someone is trying to kill me? Maybe I'm being paranoid, right?" I prop on my elbows to catch a good glance of him.

"Do you want my honest opinion?" Red asks smoothly, gazing at me. "Please," I breathe. Red sits up slowly. "I don't think they are trying to kill you as you imagine," he blurts out. My eyes widen in stun.

"They're only trying to scare you." His voice is super precise and confident of what he says. "You think?" I whisper haphazardly. Red refuses to respond, and something tells me that he knows more than I do.

"Why would they want to scare me? What for?" I urge. "That's what I'm trying to find out. Maybe it's a warning," he blurts again, sounding mindful, and I wonder why he's being this open today.

He is quite different from the man who plays my personal talisman. "A warning? A warning for me?" I quiz, sitting up reflexively. "Not necessarily." He lies back on the couch.

"What do you mean? If someone is sending a warning, but not for me, then to whom will it—" I pause as a sudden comprehension crosses my mind. Patrick.

Could it be linked to my husband? Am I being used as bait for something shady? No, it can't be. I shake my head.

"Don't think too much about it," Red says, trying to pacify the tension. I'm dismayed, a shiver running down my spine. "Mia?" he calls upon my silence, the sound of my breath audible.

I won't forgive Patrick if this has anything to do with him! Or his businesses! Tears fall down unchecked at the thought of everything I've endured by being his wife.

Why did I marry him? Honey, is it for his money? Why are you in such a hurry to get married? You’re too young, Mia. My mom’s words replay in my mind.

No, I didn’t marry him for money. I was crazy . . . stupidly in love with the man who turned the little girl in me into a gratified woman.

Red gets up abruptly. "Don't turn the lights on," I say stoutly, hugging myself under the duvet, shaking. "I wasn't going to," Red replies calmly. He's worried.

I don't understand him until he adds, "I'll stay as your husband tonight, Mia. Please calm down.

" His unexpected words leave me in the dark. But it suddenly turns beamingly clear when he approaches the bed.

I'm flabbergasted nonplused until Red is lying next to me. Jesus! My brain frosts when his big, strong arms scoot me to his side, sending a quick chill as he envelopes my slender body. My back is pressed onto his chest, my butt tightly against his . . . Holy f**k, Mia!

How outrageous! I mentally chastise myself while catching a soft breath, my body stilled in his comforting brace.