Her Mafia Bodyguard

“Mine?” Her arms tighten, and now she’s trembling. I shouldn’t have said it. She asked, and she needs to know this isn’t a game, but I hate seeing her like this.

“Why do you think I’m here with you? I’m not saying there’s ever been a threat on your life. For the most part, he’s kept things quiet when it comes to you. His friends know, his associates, but that’s about it. And that’s deliberate. That’s why he didn’t have you change your name to Morelli when he brought you in. That’s for your safety. Do you understand?”

“So he isn’t being overly paranoid.”

“I’m afraid not. I wish it was as simple as that, I do.”

“So do I.” She tries to laugh, but the effort falls flat. Maybe somebody who doesn’t know her as well as I do now would buy it. “This is a lot to swallow all at once.”

“I know it is. And I’m sorry you have to hear it like this, I really am. But it’s better that you know.”

She nods, eyes downcast, and I have to wonder if something didn’t just get lost. I would think she’d feel more confident than ever, knowing the man protecting her will do whatever needs to be done should her life ever be in danger.

I hope the time never comes that I have to prove it.

To lighten the mood, I ask, “So you weren’t just a little bit worried about me out there? That I would get hurt?”

She giggles, and I can’t pretend it isn’t gratifying. “Right. Like he could do anything to you.”

“I don’t know. I mean, I hate to say it, but he’s bulked up a little bit this semester. There’s more muscle on him than there was back when classes started.”

“Is there?” She shrugs. “I didn’t notice.” It looks and sounds like she’s telling the truth, too. I wish he was here so he’d know for sure he doesn’t have a chance with her. Nobody could do to her what I do.

And nobody could protect her the way I can.

As I walk to the bathroom, I can’t help but remember that note, the only one left in front of the door. You Can’t Protect Her. The memory leaves a sour taste in my mouth, even with Mia following and leaving a trail of clothing in her wake.

As much as I believe I can—as much as I have to, with every fiber of my being—I can’t help but hope as she steps into the shower along with me that I never have to prove it. Because that would mean her life was in danger.

And I don’t know anymore how I could live if that was ever the case.