His Secret Bodyguard

Part 20

I'm currently lying on the beach, tanning, while sipping a frozen margarita. It's one of the warmer days today, at around 84 degrees. I have on a pink/red two-piece.

I sat there for another hour, and was now drinking water to stay hydrated in the heat.. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone walking up to me and they sat down in the sand next to my towel.. "What're you doing here?" I asked, instantly annoyed..

"Well, Jeff told me you went on vacation and that you wouldn't be there for the rest of my tour." He replied, leaning back on his hands, looking over at me. I sighed, pulling my sunglasses up and looking over at him. He wasn't looking at my eyes though. He was studying my arms, my stomach, my legs... I guess looking for more scars, and also looking at the other tattoos he missed seeing before.

He turned onto his side, apparently not caring about getting sand all over him. He reached across me, running his thumb over one of my tattoos. It was actually the first one I got. It says "Freedom" in cursive on my hip. I shoved his hand away, looking around for anyone who could potentially take pictures of him..

He laughed a little. "What's with you and not liking being touched?" He asked, reaching back over me and tracing his thumb over one of my other tattoos that I have across my left ribcage. It's another nature-based one.. I grabbed his hand, pushing it back towards him. "Stop touching me. Seriously." I stated. He was watching me now, studying my eyes.

"Why?" He asked. "Because, if someone takes a picture of you, they can post it and cause a ton of drama. And I'm not allowed to do my job right now. So, it'd be bad." I explained.

"Yeah, okay. But, no one's anywhere near us. They don't even know I'm here." He replied, lightly dragging his fingers across another scar I have on the inside of my thigh. I pushed his hand off me again. "You're still not going to tell me what these are from?" He asked.

"Not a chance. Now, you should leave. Go to Brazil, and leave me alone. I came here to get away from you." I stated, standing up.

I walked up the beach, to the sand bar, and ordered another drink. Harry came up next to me. He was turned, facing me. The guy handed me my drink and my card, and I walked back to my spot, hearing Harry order something..

After a few minutes, he sat down next to me again. He had a drink of his own. I took a few sips of mine, and laid down, ignoring Harry's presence. After a good ten minutes of silence, he set his empty cup down, putting sand in it so the cup wouldn't blow down the beach.

I felt his thumb on my stomach again. He was tracing over the bullet wound. "Stop." I said, not sitting up. His hand moved onto my arm, tracing over another scar I have on the inside of my upper arm. I shoved his hand off of me, moving away from him a little. "So, why don't you like to be touched?" He asked. "And also, where are all those scars from?" He questioned.

I sat up, drinking a little more of my drink. I glanced over at him. "Again, it's none of your business." I replied, flipping over onto my stomach, so I wouldn't have an uneven tan..

It didn't take him long to find my other two tattoos. One on the side of my left leg, which he couldn't see before. And another on the back of my right shoulder-blade. The one on my leg is one word, "breathe" and the other consists of some birds..

He ran his fingers across my back, and I immediately tensed up, my brain flashing back to horrid memories. I grimaced, shoving his hand away.

"Oh my god." He murmured, holding onto my hand and tracing over the scars on my back. I hated them, and hated that he felt the need to touch all of them. I have two on my left shoulder-blade, one on my lower back, and another right through the middle of the bird tattoo..

"Stop." I stated, turning over and moving away from him. "There's no way you could reach your back right there. Who did this to you?" He asked, pulling his sunglasses off. He set them on the top of his head, looking at me.. "Harry, go away. I'm not talking to you about any of this. So just leave." I stated. He shook his head. "Tell me where the scars are from, and I'll leave you alone." He said. "You can't bribe me." I replied..

"Please. Just, tell me. I won't judge you." He commented.. "Yes, you will. They always do." I said. He shook his head, grabbing my hand and holding onto it. I pulled my hand free.

I laid back down on my stomach after taking another sip of my drink. "Don't touch me." I stated, turning my head away from him..

He didn't say anything for a few minutes. After thirty minutes, I flipped back over onto my back. He was still lying there next to me. He'd taken his shirt off, and had put it under his head to keep the sand out of his hair..

He looked over at me. "You really won't tell me?" He asked, his tone much-less persistent. He seemed like he genuinely cared. I sighed, looking back out at the ocean.. I hesitated another minute or so.. "My ex-boyfriend." I commented, reluctantly. I felt his eyes on me. "He.. He did that to you?" He questioned. "Those are... He cut you?" He asked, sitting up.

I looked down, my eyes catching on my hand, the memories slowly coming back.

"Why?" He continued. I shook my head, not wanting to explain it to him. "Can I ask you something?" He questioned, and I looked over at him, shrugging..

"Is this the boyfriend whose sweatshirt is in your car?" He asked. I nodded. "Why'd you keep it?" He asked. I hesitated, but decided I might as well tell him.

"I kept it, to remind me never to date someone like that again. To remind me that even the nicest guys can be dangerous, horrible people. They just hide it." I explained, looking at him. He glanced over at the water, which was getting closer to us as the tide rose..

"Why'd he hurt you like that?" He asked. I was still looking at him, trying to figure out if I should tell him or not....

I didn't trust him. I didn't trust anyone.