My Guardian Angel (9 page)

I put the beer down on the counter and inched closer to him.
I took him in my arms and held on tight.

“Happy birthday, Jason!
And thank you for wanting to spend your birthday with me.” I caressed his back as I held him close. He finally reached up his arms and hugged me back. His one arm wrapped around my waist while his other cradled my head.

The phone rang again, but neither of us wanted to let go.
The machine caught it and this time it was the Violent Femmes’ “Prove My Love.” Jason let go of me and peered in my eyes.

“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I'm going to make your life a living
hell,” he threatened me.

“It’s…”

He inched closer. “Don’t you say it’s nothing!” he warned.

“I got that package a few days ago and now this package.” I pointed to the one I had left on the counter. “And now the messages.
I honestly don’t know what’s going on. I haven’t had anything happen since I got the first package,” I admitted. He then stepped away from me.

“You’re kidding me
, right?” he asked.

“Look, most of this crazy shit gets delivered at the publishing house, but some of my fans do end up finding out where I live and send me stuff here.
Even though I make sure everything is privatized. I still can’t control what some fans will do.” He began pacing as I was explaining.

“So
, you didn’t see the need to call me and tell me about this?” he seethed.

“Call you? It’s not like it’s the first time I
got creepy shit. It is, however, the first time I got these kinds of phone calls. I’ll just cancel my line. It’s not like I use it anyways.” I pretended I wasn’t scared.

“This fan knows where you live
, Kassia. That’s not okay,” he hissed.

“Well
, it will have to be because I'm not going to leave my home for whoever is doing this.”

He looked at me
, dumbfounded.

“Then I'm not leaving tonight
,” he barked.

“Jason!” I yelled.

“Either way, girl, I'm staying so you can yell and scream all you want. But I'm not leaving you on your own with some crazy fucker calling you and leaving packages!” he roared.

He then passed me and picked up the beer I had left on the counter and sat himself on my couch.

“You better get your writing done, because if this gets any worse, you’re coming home with me,” he said bluntly.

I had no choice but to get to my writing.
The man was impossible, but I was happy he had stayed. As I wrote, Jason called a few of his SWAT team members and asked to get someone to trace the numbers, which were calling me. He then unplugged my phone. He even opened up the other package and found a locket with my picture in it and another dead flower. I could hear him hiss and growl to himself as he sat, patiently waiting for me to be finished. It wasn’t easy, but I got my work done in a few hours and emailed it to Tiff. I texted her and she replied with an annoyed emoji.

“You can go now. I'm done
,” I said meekly.

“What part of I'm not leaving, don’t you understand?”
he gritted out. I sighed heavily and gave up.

“Fine!”

I marched up the spiral staircase and made my way to my linen closet, where I took out a blanket and a pillow.
I walked over to the edge of the railing and threw it at him.

“So you can get comfy on the couch.”

He smirked. “You think
I’m staying down here, while you’re three floors up?”

I wondered where he was going with this.

He picked up the things I threw at him and walked up the stairs. He passed me and made his way up to my bedroom. I watched in horror, and then ran up the stairs after him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I bellowed.

“I'm going to sleep on the floor next to your bed. Now, go get cleaned up,” he ordered.

“Jason, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you don’t order me around
,” I seethed.

He smirked and moved in a little too close. He didn’t say anything
, all he did was stare at me. He then threw the blanket and pillow next to my bed.

“You’re my friend. I always take care of my friends
,” he finally said through his teeth. I groaned as I relented and went to the bathroom to clean up.

Why was I feeling so nervous?

I took longer than usual in the bathroom, a small part of me wanting to stay there, not trusting myself with him sleeping next to me. I went through the various scenarios, which could happen.

One, I could jump him in his sleep and have mad passionate sex with him.
Two, he could jump me in my sleep and I would let him. Three, I could fart in my sleep and humiliate myself.

“Are you
okay?” Jason asked, as he softly knocked on my door.

“Yeah! Just finishing up.”

It was nice that he was upset for me, but I wasn’t too alarmed about it.
Okay, fine! Yes, I was a bit scared with the phone calls, but the rest was sort of in the range of an obsessed fan.

I stepped out to my bedroom, to find Jason already on the floor, waiting for me to go to bed.
He had taken off his shirt, leaving him bare-chested. His full sleeve tat was now more prevalent, as the small lamp I had on my nightstand lit my room. He had his tattooed arm over his eyes, almost like he didn’t want to see me. I hadn’t notice before, but he had two small nipple piercings. Oh, dear God! I had to brace myself on the bathroom doorframe. After I composed myself, I slowly made my way to my bed and slid into the sheets.

“Night
, Kassia.” His low voice softly resonated in my room.

“Night
, Jason.”    

My New Home

Jason must have been tired.
The boy went straight to sleep and didn’t move all night. I know this because I stayed up watching him. His defined features seemed so perfect and soft in the light of the night. I tiptoed out of the room, letting him sleep more. I don’t know what it was, but seeing him inspired me to write, so I did. I spent a good part of the early morning writing, while the later part, I was busy making him breakfast. Was he an egg type of guy? Or French toast? Waffle? Shit! I didn’t have a waffle iron. I gave up and made him a cheese omelet with French toast. I found some candles which I had laying around and waited.

I heard a scuffle upstairs and Jason began calling my name.
I lit the candles and the moment I saw him in front of me I pressed play. The Beatles’ “Birthday” began to play. I started to dance around him with the plate full of food. He watched me, his face full of fear. He took the plate from my hand and placed it on the counter. He then yanked me into his arms. His whole body was trembling and shaking.

“What’s wrong? The song is too old. Should I have put on 50 Cent’s
“In Da Club” instead?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. He didn’t respond.

I reached up with my hands and began caressing his back.

“Jason?”

He then slowly released me and took my face into his hands.

“I touched the bed, it was cold and I couldn’t find you in the bathroom. I panicked.”

I began caressing his face.

“I'm fine, I was writing and I figured I’d make you a birthday breakfast.” I shrugged and smiled.

“Just
sit and eat.” I pulled him to the counter and put the plate in front of him. The candles were nearly melted down. “I guess I should make you new food,” I said as I took the plate off the counter. He grabbed my wrist and took the plate back.

“No, I want this one.” He took the candles off and began eating.

“Coffee? Tea? Juice?” I waited.

“Coffee
,” he said in between bites.

“Should I put it in a
sippy cup for you?” I teased him, but he didn’t laugh. “So, you’re how old exactly?” I asked, nervous about the answer.

“Twenty-six
,” he murmured.

I nearly spat out my tea.

I knew he was younger, but seven years younger was a bit much. Well, technically a few days ago he was twenty-five, which made it eight years.

“Are you
okay?” He put his fork down, looking at me.

“Great! Just great!” I responded with sarcasm.

A loud knock rapped at my door, making both of us look at the direction of the sound.

“You stay right there.” He pointed at me, as he slowly slid off the stool and made his way to the door.

He peered through the windows, but saw no one. He then inched his way closer to the door and looked through the
peephole.

“Damn it
,” he said under his breath.

He then opened the door.
On my doorstep was a package similar to the two previous ones, but this one was larger. He picked it up and brought it in, locking the door behind him. He gently placed it on the counter. I reached for it, but he pushed my hands away.

“What
? You think it’s a bomb? Just let me open it,” I cried out.

He pushed me aside and began examining it. Once he felt it was
okay, he began opening the box.

Inside were all my books, each of them destroyed
; pages were ripped, the covers slashed through. I picked up one page from my earlier books, and saw the person had highlighted dialogue and wrote notes in the margin. Jason then took out a larger piece of paper. He unfolded it. I took a step back and began to shake.

“Freaked out yet?”
he asked, almost knowing how I was feeling.

“You don’t understand.
It isn’t the first time I got these creepy kinds of things. I just never paid any attention,” I tried to explain.

“Yes, but now?” He pointed to the box.

“Okay, now, I'm freaked out.” I took the letter from his hand.

WhY?!?! WhY WoUlD yOu BeTrAy Me? I aM BeTtEr ThAn HiM. I KnOw YoU! I UnDeRsTaNd YoU BeTtER ThAn AnYoNe! HoW CoUlD yOu Do ThIs To Us? YoU BeLoNg To Me OnLy!!!!!

Jason grabbed my hand and started for the stairs, but I stood frozen. Fear slowly began to creep through me, like tiny needle
s prickling their way through my body. He saw me and let out a heavy sigh. He lowered himself and picked me up, carrying me three flights up to my bedroom. He then placed me down on my bed.

“Why would anyone do something like that?” I began to ramble, my mind trying desperately to make sense of what was going on.

Jason got busy going through my closet, finding a large piece of luggage I had and began throwing my clothes inside. He ran around my room taking everything he thought I needed or wanted.

“Why? I don’t understand?” Panic set in and I started to tremble. Jason stopped in the middle of my room. He threw my cosmetics in another bag and marched over to me. He lowered himself
, kneeling in front of me.

“Don’t try to understand these people
. Most are sick and need help, that’s why they latch onto anyone they think understands them.” He softly placed my hair behind my ear. His fingers gently caressed my face, following my hairline down across my chin. His thumb brushed lightly across my lips. “Kassia, we need to leave here.”

My eye
s grew bigger and tears began to form, past emotions were emerging and I was trying fuckin’ hard to push them back.

“It’s only for now
,” he reassured me. “What do you absolutely need?” he asked.

“My laptop and my external hard drive
,” I said meekly.

“
Okay.”

Jason made some quick calls and zipped up my bags.
He took my hand and led me down the stairs.

“Is there anything else before we leave?”
he asked me again, looking into my eyes. I shook my head. He placed my laptop bag on my shoulder and took my hand.

“Kassia? The alarm. Put it on.” He waited and I punched in the code.

He opened the door and moved me quickly towards his car. He placed me in first and put my bags in the trunk.

He shifted his car into gear and began driving quickly.
He weaved in and out of traffic, making quick turns. I sat silent, lost in the idea that someone would go this far. Whoever it was, they were watching me. I shivered at the thought.

“You’re coming to my place.
You’ll be safe there.” Jason broke the silence.

“Why your place? I could easily go to my brother’s.”

Jason shifted gears and shook his head.

“Whoever this is might go there too. At least with me, he won’t know who I am and it will be hard to find me. Plus
, my place is a condo with security and a doorman.”

Jason didn’t bother to take what I thought into consideration. He made the decision for me and I had to be
okay with it, which I wasn’t.

“Where do you live that you’re driving for over thirty minutes around the city?” I asked
, annoyed that I was being man handled.

“I'm driving around to lose anyone
who might be following us. I thought I saw a car for a few blocks, but I lost it.”

He turned one more time and drove into an underground parking lot.
He backed into what looked like his spot and killed the engine. He looked over to me and smiled. “Let’s go.”

He stepped outside, his eyes always looking around.
He opened his trunk and took out my bags. He then took my hand and led me to the elevator. He pressed the
sixth floor and up we went. He held my hand the whole way up, his thumb gently rubbing against my knuckles. His touch eased my nerves, nearly calming me down. The elevator dinged and he pulled both my bags and me out until we reached his door. He fished his keys from his jeans pocket and unlocked his door. He then pulled me inside, closing the door behind me.

It was a beautiful open spaced condo
with wrap-around windows. How the hell did a SWAT guy like him afford a place like this? I took two small steps forward and admired his open concept, contemporary design. I could see the sun even though it was partially blocked by the building next to us.

“It’s stunning
,” I said breathlessly.

“Thanks.” He placed my things
down, took my hand, and led me through his condo.

“This is the kitchen.
Down the hallway is my bedroom and bathroom and to the left is my office. Here is the living room. It’s pretty self-explanatory, I guess.”

I eased my hand away from his, afraid he’d feel my heart beat.

“You…you can have my bedroom,” he offered as he cleared his throat. I nodded.

“So now, what do I do?” I asked.

“Well, first, you call you brother, and then you call the police and your agent. They’ll need to know what’s going on. Then we’ll figure it out from there.” He put his hands deep into his front jean pockets.

“We?” I asked
, confused.

“I'm not going anywhere
, Kassia. I'm here to stay,” he said quietly, his damn eyes peering down at me.

“I'm so confused with you
,” I finally let it out.

“Confused by what?”
he asked.

“By everything. You, me, us. You’re always there, making sure I'm
okay. You say things that make me think…” I began pacing.

“Do you like me?” I finally asked as I stopped in mid
-stride, surprised at my own fuckin’ mouth. He waited and slowly made his way to me. He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them gently.

“I like you as a friend, maybe even like an older sister.
You’re easy to talk to, but that’s all.” His words cut me to my core.

Like an older sister
, he said. I laughed to myself at how stupid I was to think of him any other way. I pushed his hands off me and moved away from him.

“Good. Just as long as we got that cleared up. So you said I could use your bedroom?” I pointed to the hallway.

“Yes,” he answered.

“Then I need some time to sort all this out and call everyone you told me.”

I took my things and headed down the hall.
Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry, Kassia,
I mentally yelled at myself. When I closed that door, I couldn’t stop the tears from coming.

My brother was up in arms about the whole thing, but felt like it was a safe place since Jason was a cop and the building was secure.
Tiff was pissed that someone might have leaked out where I lived. The cops, well, they said the usual. That it’s not important until something else happens. I guess me being dead constituted something else. They did say they would patrol my street more often and if anything were to happen, to call them right away.

I didn’t bother to tell the girls, since they were busy and rarely ever came over.
I figured I’d tell them when I saw them.

It was already a week since I was living with Jason and we had figured out a way to quietly avoid each other. I wrote most of the time and read the rest, while he worked odd hours. I did cook, leaving him food for whenever he got home, which varied each day.

Like an older sister. Well
, that was a new one I hadn’t ever heard someone say to me. I was so stupid to think otherwise. I was seven years older. Obviously, he would want someone younger and prettier. Great! My self-esteem was taking a beating. I needed to find someone to date and get my mind off Jason, but who? Maybe I should call my stalker? I hadn’t felt this low in years. I texted Tiff to see if she wanted to come over, which thankfully, she said yes to. Besides my brother, she was the only other one who knew where I was. Not even my editor or my publishing house knew. Jason said the less who knew the better.

“So
, you have the hots for young Jason.” Tiffs words made it sound so dirty.

“It’s more than the hots
,” I said, embarrassed at how I felt. I stood up from the couch, headed towards the large windows and stared outside at the busy street below.

“Shit girl! You have it bad.” Tiff’s revelation only annoyed me more.

“Whatever I have, it’s one-sided,” I answered, pissed off at myself.

“One-sided? How? The boy brought you here and is protecting you from some crazy ass, which by the way, I'm hiring security for you.
It’s not like you can be in hiding forever,” she stated.

“I asked him
,” I said softy.

“You asked him what?”
she sounded surprised.

“I asked him if he liked me.”

She put her coffee down, nearly spilling it.

“Ah, honey, you didn’t
,” she accosted me.