His Secret Bodyguard

Part 33

I got to the hotel. The door to his room was cracked, so I pushed it open with my foot. Jeff was standing inside the room, and looked over.

I shoved a hand through my hair, walking in and letting the door shut behind me. He glanced over at the bed, which was out of my viewpoint. I guess Harry was lying there.

I was still watching Jeff, and he looked over at me. I had my arms crossed over my chest. "Don't you dare be mean to him again." He said. "So.. You're telling me what exactly? Not to be myself?" I questioned sarcastically. "Just.. Don't be a bitch, is what I'm saying." He commented, walking past me and leaving the room.

I slowly walked over, and stood at the foot of the bed. He was lying there on his back, staring at the ceiling. "You look like you're having a great time in here." I stated. He didn't respond, or even acknowledge that he'd heard me. I leaned against the wall behind me, not saying anything else. Two could play the silent treatment game..

I stood there, staring at him, for probably fifteen minutes, before he moved. He turned onto his side, pulling the comforter over his head..

"I came over here to make you more miserable. How am I supposed to do that if you won't look at me?" I asked. Nothing. Five more minutes went by without a word. "I hate that you enjoy making people miserable." He said quietly, still under the comforter.

"Yeah. That's a pretty popular opinion." I commented. "And you don't care? You don't feel any type of regret for hurting people?" He questioned, his tone void of any emotion.

"No." I replied. "How?" He asked, still not moving from under the comforter. "Why? You want me to teach you my ways?" I asked jokingly. "No. I want to know why you're so cold-hearted." He stated, anger and impatience present in his voice. I sighed, not saying anything for a minute. I glanced over at the door, wondering if Jeff was waiting on the other side.

I hesitated for a moment. But, I'd already made my decision. A life without regret, means taking some risks. And having fun with it. Sometimes you just have to push away all the thoughts, and leap off the cliff..

I walked over, sitting on the other side of the bed. I took my shoes off, so they wouldn't get the nice sheets dirty.. I sat there, quiet for another minute. All the red flags were going off in my mind, warning me not to open up to anyone. I laid down on my back, staying on top of the covers.

I let out a slow breath, wary of talking about myself.. "You want to know why I'm cold-hearted?" I questioned. "Yes." He replied.. I shut my eyes for a second, trying to stop my heart from beating so fast. I opened them again. "My father." I said slowly.

"What about him?" He asked.. I still was incredibly hesitant about telling him, but jumped off the cliff anyway.. "Him and my mother both checked out, not wanting to be parents anymore. That started when I was five. Andrew was eight years older then me, so he could defend himself.. But, I couldn't." I commented, trying to keep the memories from flooding my thoughts. I shoved them down, like I usually do, blocking them out..

"Andrew tried to help me sometimes.. But, when he turned 18, he left and never came back. I was ten. And, no one was left to help defend me.. My father.. I told you he was an alcoholic..." I hesitated. "Harry.. I suffered for 13 years, if not more. Over half my life, I was physically and emotionally abused. When he wasn't hurting me, I was being severely neglected. And no one helped me. Everyone saw the bruises, the scars.. But.. No one ever tried to help me." I explained.

He rolled over, pulling the comforter down. He was looking at me. "I'm sorry." He murmured. I didn't look at him. I quickly went through my normal process of getting over things. It happened; I said it. Can't take it back. No regrets..

"And Ryan.." He trailed off. "Brynn..." His tone was filled with pity. I hated that. I don't need to be pitied by anyone. My past is behind me, and nothing is changing that..

I was looking over at the balcony, and felt his hand on my stomach. I shoved it away, looking over at where he was lying.

"That's why you don't like being touched. Isn't it?" He questioned. "Or maybe I don't like being touched, because people need to learn how to keep their hands to themselves." I replied.

"Well, I don't do that. I like physical contact. Makes me feel human." He said. "Eventually that goes away. You get over the need for that contact.. Especially when the only reason people ever touched you, was to beat you. Or to hold you down while they cut you with a knife." I stated, looking away from him.

Again, I felt his hand on my stomach, his fingers lightly tracing over the scars. I looked over at him, and he lifted his eyes to meet mine. "How many times do I need to tell you to stop, for you to get the message?" I asked, annoyed.

I went to push his hand away, and he used his other hand to lightly grab my wrist, his hand still on my stomach.

"I would never do that to you." He said, moving his hand away, and letting go of me. "That means nothing to me. Ryan said the same thing when I met him." I commented. He was still watching me. "Brynn.. I would never do that to you. Ever. I promise." He stated.

I sighed, staring up at the ceiling. I heard the door open, and didn't move. I could see Jeff standing at the end of the bed, looking at us. "Great.. Now there's two of you." He commented. Harry was still lying on his side, his eyes on me..

Neither of us acknowledged Jeff. "What the hell happened when I left?"