The Assassin’s Billionaire Bodyguard
Chapter 22

"f**k, f**k, f**k," she slapped the dash of Amelia's car as they drove away from Cam and Portia.

"Isabella, what is your problem?" Amelia asked. "You just beat someone in a stupid street fight and impressed your arch nemesis. Also, your boyfriend will have an erection for weeks."

"He wasn't supposed to replace out I can fight, and I don't care if I impressed Portia."

She shrugged, "I mean you have a black belt in Karate. It's not a secret, is it?"

Amelia had seen her get into more than one street fight since they were kids. They were certainly less frequent as they'd gotten older, and Amelia had simply taken her ability to defend herself as the lessons she'd taken from Edward and Clara in Karate. But she told herself angrily, Cam was someone who fought and trained for a living. In fact, he had made an empire out of doing exactly what she had done tonight. He'd recognize a professionally trained expert in a split second. She'd not only taken down her assailant in less than thirty seconds, but she'd also disarmed him and disassembled his firearm in moments. It was going to cause far more questions than answers for him and likely make him dig into her much more than he may have already. "f**k!" she slapped the dash again.

"Okay, my car does not deserve your abuse."

"I'm sorry, it's just, the last thing I ever wanted was Camden Torres questioning why I beat people up."

"You don't want to tell him about what happened? Why Clara offered to teach you self-defence?" "No," she shook her head, "apart from the family, my shrink and Sabine, nobody knows."

"Not even Evgeni?" Amelia asked in surprise, "then why did he tell Portia you had trauma?"

"I told him once I had been hurt in my past and I was dealing with the emotional fallout of it. If he knows specifics, it's not from me." She sighed, "and Clara hid most of it, Amelia. She used her hacking skills to make sure nobody ever found out. I asked her to keep my past private."

"She did?" Amelia was surprised, "why would she agree?"

"I work for Draxton and sometimes when I'm working on different contracts, they do extensive security sweeps. I could be considered a psychological risk to the Draxton team and if I want to be able to work on the high security projects my mind must be," she grappled for the word, "not crazy. I asked her to make sure if I were going to be part of the upper management team, she would have to fix it because I'm not doing a department of defense psych eval."

"Being a kidnapping victim would make you seem crazy?"

"PTSD Amelia, I have PTSD and as a result it could get me barred from projects or at the very least scrutinized. Clara has a shrink who routinely assesses me as part of my work, but it's very well hidden so not to intrude on my work."

"It makes sense, I guess. It never dawned on me how it affects your work life. Are you okay? Does it impact your work?"

"I am fine, did you not just hear me say Clara has me checked out routinely? I go to counselling still. I mean, I was grabbed off the streets, shoved into a van, and kept for three days on drugs. I woke up in the hospital with little to no memory of what happened, an internal horrible sense of dread and fear with no understanding as to why. I have a special little dog and overprotective family and I'm always looking over my shoulder and I hate when someone tries to restrict my freedom but otherwise, I'm fit as a fiddle." Amelia was quiet and Isabella looked at her then and groaned as she saw tears sliding down Amelia's cheeks. "Oh Amelia, stop."

"I know you had some issues because you have Casper, but I guess, I always think of you as strong I forget what you went through."

"I am strong," she grinned and wiped a tear off her sister's cheek. "Didn't you see that guy's face? I smashed it. Dickhead had a nerve to hold a gun to me."

"He had a gun?" Amelia groaned, "I take it back. I won't be telling Mama."

"Right because I'll tell her you took a freebie client on the street where I've been mugged."

"I hate you." Amelia mumbled and then sighed "but I love you more. Our little secret?"

"Yes," she smiled broadly forgetting her anger for a moment and then remembering Cam Torres had witnessed her beating up a mugger. "What am I going to do? He's going to dig so much deeper into my background. I can't have him meddling into my background." "Well," Amelia shrugged, "how much can he replace out?"

She looked at her sister not surprised by how little her sweet naïve sister knew about the world she lived in. "Camden Torres runs a company called Juggernaut."

"Right, you said it's a security company."

"He provides security for very wealthy people. He oversees situations involving kidnapping, ransoms etcetera. For example, if someone ever tried to kidnap the twins, it would a company like Juggernaut who would get them back and there would be no mercy shown." Isabella didn't say should such a situation ever arise, Clara and Isabella would bring the kids home on their own and there would be no surviving bad guys.

"Oh," she said with a quiet whisper. "He's like someone in a movie, a mercenary or something?"

"Yes, on paper he provides security services to movie stars and billionaires, but the file Clara pulled for me says he's done far more."

"Wait," Amelia looked away from the road for a second in surprise, "you have a file on him?"

"Yes," she laughed humourlessly. "As soon as I had the first date with him, and he bullied me into the second date. He's quite disarming so I needed all the ammunition I could get."

"You knew he's dangerous and you still went out with him?"

"There's nobody safer to be with," Isabella said seriously and then groaned as she said the words aloud. "Damn it, it's why I like him." She punched the dash in frustration.

"That and his fine a*s, I watched it in the rear-view mirror and it's tight." Amelia chortled as her sister gently slugged her shoulder. "You like him, Isabella. Why are you giving him such a hard time?"

"Because he thinks I'm a helpless delicate flower like his kid and he doesn't listen to me when I say I know how to take care of myself."

"You proved him wrong tonight didn't you. Did you know he was there?"

"No, I had no idea he'd be there. I would have stayed in the car and hidden."

"Why? Isabella, he's a good-looking guy who is worried about you and wants to keep you safe and protected. He would never do what Evgeni did by walking away while you went to help a screaming girl in an alley. He'd race you to the girl and I have no doubt about it. You're scared of him."

"Terrified," she admitted with no shame. "Men like him don't stick around for long Amelia. They have their fun and then they move on. I've had enough therapy in the last six and a half years to know he is the kind of guy I'd fall fast for. Hell, I said to Elian just last night I think I already have."

"Wait, you talked to Elian about this guy?"

"Yes."

Her sister gave a low whistle, "girl, you're pooched. If you're calling big brother for advice, it's too late for you."

"I know."

"What did he say?"

"He told me to walk away."

"What?" Amelia slapped the steering wheel. "No, he's wrong."

"He's right." Isabella corrected, "I'm going to get hurt Amelia. It already hurts. Two, three more weeks of this and I'll be an emotional mess, needing to sit home eating Hagen Das and crying into my dog's fur. No, it makes sense for me to cut it off before I get too attached to this guy."

"Isabella."

"He's a Rangers' fan," she sighed.

They were quiet for a minute. "I'm surprised you haven't proposed then," Amelia grunted at her sister's words.

"Right?" She swallowed the lump in her throat, "and he's rock solid in bed. Definitely better than Julio's pizza."

"You slept with him? How come I'm only replaceing this out now? Sunday night?"

"Yes, and then I went home after to take care of Casper and he showed up in the morning yelling at me because I didn't wake him up to drive me home. His place was in Manhattan, and I needed to get to Queens. I wasn't going to wake him up. Instead of being appreciative he yelled at me. All he does is yell and chastise me and tell me I need someone watching over me." "But it was good?"

"Really good," she made a face. "I worked from home Monday because I couldn't walk straight." She shared too much with her sister who chortled with glee. "Also, under his buttoned-up suit, is a body full of tattooed muscles. He's delicious to look at. I was feeling so positive about it and then he wrecked it. He showed up last night to yell at me again for going for a jog when Evgeni is a loose cannon threatening me. As if I wouldn't have had a clear plan before going. I knew where Evgeni was, I ran it by Clara and Ben, and I had my pepper spray."

"You had to do all this just to go for a run?"

She sighed, not wanting to scare her sister. "He's a bit off his rocker right now. I had to file a restraining order. He tried to start something at the hockey game with dad right there Tuesday night. He's really messed up and I don't know if it's drugs or something else, but Clara's security team has him under surveillance." She grinned, "so does Cam's though. Ben's team and his have run into each other a couple of times. It'd be funny if it weren't annoying."

"I'm sorry you're going through all of this," Amelia said after a few moments of silence. "I do think you are wrong about Cam Torres though, for what it's worth. Since the kidnapping, you've said you want to jump into life and not miss out. I think avoiding the potential of falling into love is the antithesis of what you've made your life goal."

After Amelia had dropped her off at home and she was laying in bed, she contemplated her sister's words. In a moment of weakness when her phone rang at one in the morning while she was still deliberating their conversation, she answered the call. "What do you want Torres?" She asked trying to keep her voice neutral.

"You naked under me," he spoke quietly, "but I'd settle for some conversation which doesn't end in one of us pissed off and ready to rip the other's throat out."

"Then stop being a jerk," she chuckled quietly as she rolled to her side and stroked Casper's ears.

"I'm sorry Isabella," he whispered into the phone, "I will work on dictating orders at you like you're one of my clients."

"How many hours of introspection did it take you to reach this conclusion?"

"Two minutes with Gideon when I left your place last night."

"He's a smart guy for a goon."

"He likes you. He said if I didn't clean up my act, he was going to make a play and show you how a real man treats a lady."

She giggled at his words, "I'll slip him my number."

"Over my dead body," he bit into the phone, "don't make me fire my best friend."

She sighed, "no chance Torres. You've spoiled me for security specialists. One in my life is enough."

"Do you want to tell me why you knew how to disarm a man wielding a gun as if it were child's play?" he didn't beat around the bush.

"No," she said equally bluntly, "it's not your business. Just know I can take care of myself."

"According to Gideon, who had a much better vantage point than I, you exacted some incredible self-control while inflicting damage. He said and I quote, he would love to see what you did to someone who really pissed you off." "No, he wouldn't," she stared at the ceiling.

"Oh, you don't know Gideon very well." Cam spoke measuring his words carefully. "He likes chaos."

"I bet he does," she sighed and made a face. "Ask your questions Cam."

"Why does Clara Draxton have your history sealed so tight the best of my team can't replace the most basic of information?"

"Because someone with PTSD cannot work on department of defense projects."

"Why do you have PTSD?"

"Teenage trauma I don't want to discuss with anyone other than my shrink."

"I want to know Isabella. When I want something, I get it. You can either tell me or I replace out."

"You won't replace out unless I tell you Cam," she said seriously. "It doesn't exist anywhere on paper, in a computer file or anywhere else. It happened to me and it's mine and mine only to share."

"Where did you learn to fight?"

"Clara and Edward Draxton. I told you before I study karate."

"You disarmed a gunman."

"My sister-in-law felt it necessary to make sure I am able to take care of myself in the event something ever happened. She gets hundreds of threats a year."

"She only felt it necessary to teach you. Your sister Amelia couldn't fight her way out of a room full of grannies."

She laughed at his comment, "you're not wrong. Amelia's a lover not a fighter. So are my older sisters and my brothers. Clara and I get on because I wanted to learn how to defend myself and not rely on someone else to take care of me. I'm the only one in the family she would leave the kids completely alone with without having security in the same room. I'm capable of taking care of myself Cam. I need you to trust me on this."

"Fine," he said quietly, "we'll do it your way for now but if Evgeni gets too close to you, we do it my way."

"Fine," she agreed.

"Good, now come downstairs and let me in. My car is getting cold."

She jumped out of the bed and raced to her bedroom window and saw the Porsche under a streetlight. She put her forehead on the window and her fingers on the glass, her heart thundering at the sight of him getting out of his car. "Cam, I don't know."

He looked up from the street and met her eyes at the window. "What don't you know?"

"You're out of my league," she spoke before she could stop herself. "I'm in over my head. It's barely been two weeks and we fight more than anything else and even still I can't stop thinking of you all the time."

"I think of you all the time too Isabella."

"You do?"

"Yes, all the time. Are you thinking this is one-sided?" He leaned against the car, his phone held to his ear, as he studied her through the window. "Let me in and we can talk about this. Isabella, let me in." "You scare the hell out of me Torres," she whispered her breath fogging the window. "Also, you're reminding me of the big bad wolf in the little pig story." "Well, I can huff and puff, but I prefer when you do the blowing," he said with a wide grin and was rewarded as she laughed suddenly at his comment. Moments later she was standing at her front door, in a t-shirt, barefoot and giggling as he raced and jumped the stairs to land right in front of her.