5. Paige

5

PAIGE

I'm about to meet my fate. Or better yet, my bodyguard, or security, or whatever we want to call it.

What I won't allow it to be is my jailer.

I may not want to be out and about, but I want that to be my choice, not because some guy decides for me that I need to be on lock down.

Declan arrived a few minutes ago, and I just know this has something to do with the glorified babysitter I'm being saddled with.

And that's just the thing.

After Gray left after breakfast, and Soph came over, I've been thinking about this whole thing.

"Declan, talk to me. Why do I need a personal bodyguard? I never have before."

"It's just a precaution, Paige."

I scoff. "A precaution? The attack was a month ago. So, what changed? What don't I know?"

Declan sighs. "Da, Gray, and I think it's better we have eyes on you at all times, that's all. "

I throw my hands in the air. "But why? More importantly, don't I have the right to know whatever this is? If I need security, it means it concerns me, right?"

I think part of the reason I've been so messed up is that I was caught off guard by the attack. The brutality, the disregard for human life.

I had no idea things could be that bad.

I mean, I knew it wasn't all happy places and happy faces all around, but I'd never even been around a gunshot outside of the range. And I am not one to go there regularly. Or hardly ever if I can help it.

God, I've been so sheltered.

If I'd paid more attention, be more interested, would it have changed anything?

If it'd been Lara, she might've been able to fight him off, but I wasn't.

I'm a failure. A joke. A princess.

I don't want to be that anymore. I want to fight be. I want to be a warrior. Because if I had known more, more about what they do, more about what's going on, maybe I could've been prepared.

And I know it's too little too late, but I never want to go through that again, so I want to know if Murphy is targeting us. Targeting me .

I'm determined to find out, but Declan's refusing to talk to me.

I don't even know who we're expecting, but maybe they'll be able to tell me more about what the hell's going on.

There's a knock on my front door, and Declan gets up to open it.

Is this it ?

As much as I wished it could be, my new bodyguard can't be Jimmy. He was shot trying to save me, and he's still recovering. Another victim of my inability to save myself.

But if that weren't the case, I'm sure he'd be the one coming through that door.

So, maybe it will be Mack or?—

Hell no, this is not happening to me.

Kael fucking Sullivan walks in, following my brother, as if he's welcome here. As if him being in my house, my space, breathing my air, is the most natural thing in the world.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Declan sighs, going to sit down in my living room.

Kael doesn't look up or react in any way, just follows my brother there.

Grumpy asshole lapdog.

An unfortunately attractive grumpy asshole lapdog.

I mean, he's just objectively hot in a universal way with his strong jaw, sandy-colored stubble, and lean, lithe body. And I hate that his sandy hair curls at the ends giving him even more of a bad-boy playboy look. In any other guy, I'd be drooling by now.

But him? Yuck.

A shiver runs through me, and I look away.

He hasn't looked up at me either, but he doesn't need to. I remember his ocean-blue eyes just fine.

Not that he'd know the color of mine. He never bothered looking at me if he could help it.

We are oil and water. Chatty outgoing, bubbly girl and silent grump.

Kael's a hard nut to crack. Not to mention he used to call me "short stack" when I was growing up.

Hilarious. Not .

In any case, I sure as hell am not allowing Kael Sullivan to be my bodyguard.

Declan turns to me. "Paige?—"

"Absolutely fucking not."

Kael chuckles.

What the hell? Is he making fun of me?

He still doesn't look at me, though. "Don't remember you having such a dirty mouth."

I freeze, his words doing something to my body that I don't like to think about.

But my mind tricks me and has me thinking about them in another context...

Stop it, Paige.

I'm just... well, I'm a little sexually frustrated.

Being a virgin at twenty-seven years old will do that to you.

Not like I had a choice, being sheltered and watched whenever I left the house, given who my family is wasn't exactly conductive to an active sex life.

And I didn't move into this house until after the attack, so it's not like I had any inclinations to go out after that.

And now, even if I had, with a personal babysitter, I am doomed.

It's not like I can tell him to leave me alone for a couple of hours just so I can do the deed or something.

And this is Kael we're talking about. My brother's best friend. A pain in my ass.

Declan clears his throat, and I'm back to reality.

"I don't need a fucking babysitter, Declan."

He raises an eyebrow. "Gray said you agreed to this."

"Fucking Gray," I mumble. "Whatever. I might have agreed to having someone look after me, but I never agreed to have him do it. So, if that's your only choice, you can leave now. I'd rather take my chances alone."

"Paige, you could've been?—"

"I know that!" I burst out, feeling emotional and angry and not quite knowing why.

I've gone through all this, and now the man I hate the most is the one that's going to be assigned as my bodyguard? Why can't I get a fucking break?

"Why him, Declan? Literally, anyone else could do it."

"I don't trust anyone else," Declan murmurs, and my shoulders slump.

"There's no way for me to get out of this, is there?"

I wish Sophie was still here. She'd back me up, even if she technically was on Declan's side before.

"There's not." Declan chuckles. "If you don't agree, Da'll just force you back to the mansion and lock you in the house."

Shit.

I fought hard to be able to get my new place. I need a place to be myself without being constantly coddled and pitied after the attack. Constantly watched. There's no way I'll let this asshole be the reason I lose everything.

"So, what, he'll just sleep in his car outside?"

Kael snorts. "Nah, little princess, I'm sleeping in your guest room."

"Oh, absolutely not."

Declan groans. "Come on, Paige, be reasonable. You know that we need to protect you. You know that Da won't allow you to stay here if someone isn't watching you. I trust Kael. No one else. So, it's either him, or you go back home."

Usually, I'd stomp, pout, storm out. And I guess I am pouting, a little, but I don't want to throw a tantrum in front of Kael. He already thinks I'm a spoiled brat. And I know he'll use it against me later.

But I'm not being a brat about this. "Kael will just ignore me, anyway."

"Nah, princess. I'll watch you like a hawk. Declan knows that." Kael's slight Irish accent is coming through. It's sexy as hell, which makes me hate him even more.

I turn to glare at him. "Why are you doing this, anyway? You've barely spoken a sentence to me in years."

Kael shrugs. "Why would I? We're not friends. Besides, I'm usually working when we cross paths."

"Of course."

Declan looks between us. "Great, you two are already talking."

I hate that he thinks his sarcasm is funny.

He stands up. "Now, I'm heading out. I'm leaving you two to figure out the living arrangements. It's a big enough house that I trust you won't kill each other before Sunday. You know we're counting on you for dinner as usual."

I'm not going to win this. It's over. Gray and Declan and Da are all in agreement, and the three men in my life are stubborn as mules.

"You two figure it out. I'm going home."

Before he can even turn on his heel, I'm on the move.

I don't give them time to react. I grab my car keys, stalk out of the house, and drive over to look for Lara, hoping for some big sister sympathy.

Maybe she can talk some sense into Declan, talk him into choosing someone else at the very least.

I bang on her door, and she calls for me to come in.

When I walk inside her room, I'm surprised to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, painting her toenails.

"What are you doing? "

Lara looks up at me, her expression blank. "Riding a bike?"

I narrow my eyes. "You know what I mean. You never paint your toenails."

"What are you talking about?" She frowns, blinking. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!"