BitterSweet - 1

Chappie 20

You know when your in big trouble? Do you ever get that gut dropping feeling inside your tummy? I do. Clay glares at me with fire in his eyes,

"What hell do you think you were doing?" He shouts. I stare at him, seeing the huge disappointment in his face.

"Having some fun." I mumble,

"You don't have time for fun!" He hisses,

"But you do? How is that fair?" I look up at him. Clay's green eyes and their hidden depths. Hidden secrets,

"It's not fair Scarlett, but here's the truth, you are a young teenager who is wanted by police and people who want to kill you and as you like to point out I am only your bodyguard, they don't want me..."

"Well get lost then." I hiss and walk away from him. I hate him. I hate his hotness. I hate how I let down my walls only for him to make me hurt. I hate Amilla and her stupid skinny body and her lovely long blond perfect straight hair. I hate myself for liking him, for making such a fool of myself. I hate being on the run, hate not being at home beside the pool. I hate everything.

"Where are you going? Come back." He follows me. I ignore him. Your such a stupid young girl Scarlett. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, no! Don't cry, but it was too late my eyes were stinging and flowing with fat salty tears,

"Leave me alone." I mutter to Clay and step around him as he tried to block my path,

"No. Come back." He reaches out and grabs my arm. I stiffen at his touch. Heat, his touch was what I wanted, but crap, why did I want it?

"Let go." I hiss,

"No." His fingers curl tightly around my arm as he pulls me back towards the hotel. I could have been a good girl and walked with him, instead I root my feet to the pavements. Clay doesn't stop pulling me. I stumble forwards and fall over. A sharp stinging pulsed up my leg. The gasp of pain left my lips and Clay swore,

"Why can't you just do as your told? Are you OK?" He hisses and wraps his arms around my back lifting me to my feet. I loose myself in his touch. Crap, even when he spoke to me like a kid I still tingled when he touched me,

"No I'm not OK and it's because I am a person. I have bleddy feelings!" I shout, a few people who get out of taxis in the street stare at us. I didn't care. Clay's face soften a bit,

"Is it hurting much?" He asks. I bit my lip and nod,

"I think I broke the stitches earlier." The tears were still falling and Clay gazes into them for a moment. He frowns and gently moves a strand of hair from my eyes. My breath caught in my throat. My pain forgotten,

"Have you taken something?" He asks. Ah hell,

"No." I mutter,

"Liar." He says,

"You lie." I reply, as he lifts my arm over his shoulder and half carries me back to the hotel,

"How do I lie?" He asks. I bit my lip, unsure if I should go there, but here's the thing, Clay has secrets. His past, the scars over his body, we just pretended he didn't. I wasn't so sure if I liked pretending anymore,

"Who are you?" I ask. We walk into the lobby of the hotel in silence and enter the lift. Clay stares at me. His gaze never leaving mine, the touch of my arm over his shoulder seems to burn with such a intimacy I thought I would faint,

"Your bodyguard." He says softly,

"Who were you then?" I whisper. Clay didn't answer and the bing of the lift reaching our floor fills the silence. I limp out with him,

"Not everyone wants to share their past. " He mutters and walks past my room,

"Where are we going?" I ask,

"To my room." I felt my cheeks blush. Why was it so hot in this damn hotel? Clay jingles out a pair of keys from his pocket and unlocks the old oak door. We enter a room which is slightly bigger than mine. A double bed with soft white rumpled sheets sat in the middle, the walls are a deep purple and black, it's filled with metal tables and cupboards and plants sat in the corners. The air smells like his aftershave. I close my eyes and let him lead me inside,

"Sit there." He left me on the bed and walked into the bathroom. I was alone in Clay's room, and I was drunk but sobering up quickly. The effects of the pill were disappearing and I could feel the pain in my leg beginning to burn. I shift myself on to his bed and rest my head against the soft pillows. They smell like him, I breath it in. On a small table in the middle of the room a bottle of champagne sat with two crystal glasses. I stare at it, omg he went out with Amilla tonight, had he ordered it for them? Probably, stop caring Scarlett! I was trying to rebuild stone walls around my emotions but the were as strong of sand castles. Clay steps back in the room carrying a green first aid kit,

"What's wrong?" I ask because he's just staring at me,

"Nothing." Clay steps over and pulls out a bandages and anti bacteria cream, "I can do the stitches for you? Amilla is trained in first aid. I just learnt along the way so I can go get her if you want?" He asks. I swallow, it was damn hot in here. I should get Amilla to do it but I sort of hate her.

"It's OK, you do it" I mumble. He nods and sits on the edge of the bed staring at me,

"I'm gonna need your leg Scarlett."

"Oh, right yeah." Why the hell were my hands shaking? What the hell was this? I stretch my leg over to his hands and they curled around my skin. Oh crap, why God? Why did you give this guy an angel touch? He lifts my dress slightly up, and I felt a shiver run up my leg. Was that Clay? Why was he shaking?

"When I was younger. I was a bit like you." Clay mutters and examines the loose stitches. I held my breath waiting for him to continue, "I had everything I ever wanted, a lovely family, a big house, all the latest gadgets out." He lets his eyes drift to mine for a moment, "But sometimes having everything is like having nothing." I nodded slightly admitting that I felt the same,

"What happened?"

"Stuff." He mutters...OK so that subject was out of bounds...what about his family then?

"Do you see your mum or dad?" I ask and watch him put small bit of sticky paper over my old stitches. The pain lessens in seconds,

"Mum's dead." He mutters. My gut dropped and I looked away from him.

"How about your dad?" I said softly,

"Yeah. He's alive but I don't see him."

"Maybe you could visit?" I suggested,

"I don't want too." The hardness in his eyes showed me that was also out of bounds. Silence fills the air as he gently rubs cream around the stitches. I remember the night when he had put the same cream on my feet. I flush again and Clay stares at me,

"Are you hot? I can open a window?" I nod and watch him stand. I take a breath. I shouldn't do this, but I had to find out. I had to know. I slip from the bed, avoiding putting any weight on my leg. It didn't hurt so much now anyway. Clay didn't notice me until I was behind him. Close, very close, so close I could feel his body heat on mine. He didn't move, didn't look at me but he knew I was there. I take a breath, calming my nerves, it doesn't help,

"Scarlett..." Clay says softly. I ignore him and reach my hands out slowly. It was like I was watching someone else do it. This was not me, this was a brave person. My fingers drift under his shirt and gently touch the bumpy raised skin of scars. I feel him shiver under my touch and a sense power seems to dawn over me. He wasn't cold, this was my effect on him, I had made him shiver. A tingle of passion jumps inside me. I push it away. This was about knowing him. I had to know.

"How?" I whisper and lift his shirt so I can see the indents of white skin. Clay was silent apart from his soft breathing. He wasn't going to answer. Suddenly I didn't feel so powerful. I felt stupid and silly. I pull away and went to walk out, when he spoke,

"Sometimes people, your family. Well they're not who you think they are. They're not good people." Clay was still looking out the window. I stop and look at him horror stricken, letting his words sink in. My gut done that horrible dropping thing for the tenth time this night,

"Your family? Did that?" I gasp, because that was wrong, utterly sick and wrong and twisted,

"My dad. had a whip..." He sounds so small, so young, it hurts me. I didn't know what to do. What to say. Crap what do you say to that? He turns and looks at me, his face was blank of emotion, "You should go to bed." I don't know what to say, everything I could say would sound fake. so I change the subject,

"Did I ruin your night?" I ask staring at the champagne. Clay stares at me, a million emotions rush through his face,

"No, we're just friends Scarlett." He mutters. I frown confused,

"I know were friends. I never said we were anything else."

"I mean me and Amilla. She helped me pass my guarding exams. Saved my life a few times." He sighs and walks over to his bed pulling back the covers,

"Oh" I stare at him. His green eyes, which had seen pain from the worst places, from family. I couldn't relate to him, couldn't understand how that felt. My dad loved me, even if he never showed it,

"We're leaving this evening." Clay said softly still staring at me. I felt my cheeks flushing from his hot gaze. Get a grip Scarlett.

"I should go." I mutter but I didn't move, seconds pass and just as I'm about to make the first step towards him a knock thunders on the door making me jump,

"Clay? It's me, quick you have to get Scarlett..." Amilla slams through the door in pink pig pyjamas, "Ah your here." She glanced at me for a second and turned her attention on Clay, "There's been a sighting. You need to leave." Clay sighs and pulls back the covers,

"Get your bag, get dressed quick. Please hurry Scarlett." I stare at him in shock, "Go now." He barks. I nod and step out the room quickly.

So much for leaving this evening.