My Bodyguard Hates Me

"So when are we getting to this so-called 'safe' place." I ask his stone faced ass.

I'm just trying to get a little conversation going. It is to quiet. The only thing I hear is the car engine and our- well my breathing. His quiet ass.

I mean he won't even turn the radio on.

Who does that!?!

Since he isn't gonna talk to me I might as well get comfortable.

I lean my seat back and put my feet up on the dashboard. Luckily I had painted my toes the day before.

"Get your feet down now." I look at him stunned.

"Now you wanna talk." Being the stubborn person I am I keep my feet up.

He swerves the car to the side of the road so quickly I bang my head against the window.

"Oww!" I complain. I'm probably gonna have a concussion now.

He turns toward me with such a hateful look I flinch.

"Get your fucking feet down now or I will cut your pinky toes off and grill them." My feet are back in their shoes in record time.

He pulls back on the road then.

"At least my feet don't stink."