His Secret Bodyguard

Part 52

**Timeline: Early March 2021**

I took the sunglasses off, and went straight down to Harry's room. I could hear voices through the door, and I hesitated, before opening it. Jeff and Anne were both in there, talking..

"Brynn, where the hell have you been?" Jeff exclaimed, standing up out of his chair. I pulled the backpack off. "Chill. I went back to my apartment." I said, setting it down on the bed and unzipping it..

"What? Why? You know you aren't supposed to leave here, right? Your head injury is—" I cut him off. "Is just fine. I didn't want to be here." I stated, pulling Harry's phone and charger out of the bag and setting them down on the bed.

"Is that his?" Jeff asked. I nodded. "I brought some of his clothes too.. For, later." I said, not wanting to think of the slight possibility of him not ever waking up.. I took those out of the bag as well, putting them on the bed. They were still folded..

I zipped it up, putting the bag back on. "Wow. Well, thank you; that's really kind of you." His mom commented. I shrugged, looking back over at Jeff. He was watching me. "Did anyone see you?" He asked. I shook my head. "And, you do realize how stupid it was leaving, right?" He asked. I rolled my eyes, pulling the hood down and running a hand through my semi-wet hair. "It wasn't stupid. I couldn't stay here. I told you that." I replied.

"That doesn't matter. It's not about what you want, Brynn. You had surgery barely a week ago. You can't go running around Paris. Especially with the media out there, and outside your apartment complex." He stated. He seriously sounded like a dad right now, which really annoyed me..

"Okay, first of all.. I'm 23, and you're honestly in no position to boss me around; I don't work for you anymore. Secondly, I grew up around here, it's not like I'm gonna get lost, even with a head injury." I commented. "Is that why you speak fluent French?" He asked.

I sent him a look. "No, I grew up speaking English in France." I stated sarcastically. His mom was watching me. I didn't care about what she thought of me, honestly. It doesn't matter. Her son had a thing for me, got really upset and emotional, and nearly died because of me. So, she already doesn't like me. There's no point in trying to change her mind..

"Okay. Well, you should probably go back to your room now." He said. "No. They're just going to bring that fucking therapist in there to try and talk to me." I replied, glancing over at where Harry was lying, still asleep.. I couldn't help but think about when he'd grabbed my arm.. I didn't know what that was, or how it had happened. But, it did.

"I really think you'd benefit from talking to him." Jeff commented. I looked at him, sending him an annoyed look. "Oh really? You do?" I asked, still being sarcastic with him. "Yes, I do. I think you keep a lot to yourself, and that can really take a toll on a person. It'd be good for you to talk it out." He replied.

"You don't know anything about me. It'd be a complete waste of time bringing him in to talk to me. I'm not telling him anything. Why should I tell some random man about my life?" I questioned. "Because, he's not a random man. He's a therapist, and he can help you." He said. I scoffed. "Jeff, I don't know him. He's a random guy who just happened to get a psychology degree, and judges people for a living. I'm not talking to him." I stated, turning and walking back out of the room, pulling my hood up...

I saw the doctor standing at the nurses' station, and he looked over, seeing me. "We've been searching all over for you. Where have you been?" He asked. "I left. I only came back to leave Harry some of his stuff. I'm gonna go now." I commented, continuing to walk down the hall, towards the elevator. "You can't leave." He said, catching up with me.

"Sure I can. Did it earlier; can do it again." I replied. "No. You had a bad head injury, and need to be resting." He stated. I hit the button for the elevator, looking over at him. "I've been resting for a week." I said. "You're supposed to stay another whole week, Brynn. You can't leave." He commented. "Why not? People do it all the time." I replied, the elevator doors opening in front of me.

"Is that what happened to you? Did someone leave you? Your parents, possibly?" I heard a man ask from behind me. "Ah, the therapist has arrived, and he speaks English. Fancy." I commented, turning around to face him. The elevator doors shut behind me. He was studying me.

He was a middle-aged man; caucasian, with brown hair and brown-green eyes. Pretty boring looking. Definitely of French-European descent..

"Yes, well, I studied over in the States, so I had to learn it." He commented, taking a few steps towards me. "I'm Dr. Armel." He said, extending a hand towards me. "I don't touch people." I commented, turning and hitting the elevator button again.

"So then, your parents abandoned you, yes?" He asked. I didn't respond. The less he knew, the less he could assume things like that..

He walked over, leaning against the wall. He needed to be able to see my face, to read off my facial expressions, in order to learn if he was right or not. The most obvious trick in the book..

Luckily, I tend to keep a pretty emotionless look at all times.. "When did they leave? How young were you?" He asked. I rolled my eyes. He was giving me a headache, and this elevator was the slowest thing in the universe.

"If I had to guess, I'd say you were probably under ten." He commented. I finally looked at him. "Is this how you "treat" your patients? You just name a bunch of things, and wait until they have some type of emotional-response. You try and read their body-language, to see whether or not you're close?" I questioned.

"I think you've closed off your emotions, and present this hostile persona in order to protect what's left of you." He commented. "Sure let's go with that. Session over." I said, stepping onto the elevator when it opened.

He stopped the door from closing, grabbing my wrist and pulling me out of the elevator. It triggered me, as it always did. I tried to push the flashbacks away, trying to keep myself from reacting how I did before. But then his grip slightly tightened, and I was on the ground in less than a second, my arms pulled over my head. I hated that I did that. It was an instinct that never went away, even after all these years..

I heard the elevator doors slide shut.. "And if I had to guess.. I'd say this is what's left of you. This is the side of you that you block off to people. You have a fear of being open and vulnerable." He stated, his voice barely audible over the flashback of Ryan screaming at me.

The memory of it was still fresh in my mind, playing over and over like a film. It was excruciating....