Adam

"I don't care if no one actually broke in. She's not staying there." Jacob repeats on the phone.

"That's not a good idea." I scan the street in front of her building, standing in front of the gate.

On my right, a bald man with round sunglasses and tight yellow shorts is taking his dog on a speed-walk.

"Damn!" He throws me a quick head-to-toe look, twisting towards me as he passes.

"Why not?" Jacob asks.

"Because, sir..." I pretend to struggle with my words. Sometimes, you have to play dumb to not poke fragile egos. "She tends to put herself in danger when she's anxious."

"She won't."

I pinch my nose. You stubborn, ignorant, fat shit. "She almost crashed into a tree with a golf cart."

"When?"

"Well, I started yesterday. Why don't you do the math?"

"You new here, my hunky croissant?" The guy with the dog pops back. He circles me, smiling widely at my crotch. "Oooh, what a big boy!"

"Christ," I grumble, stalking away from him.

"I'll help you control her, don't worry." Jacob reassures on the other line.

"Call me!" The man behind me cries out.

I don't know who I want to kill first. This horny lunatic or Jacob for treating his daughter like an incompetent dog.

"I don't need to control my client. I control her environment." I pass the building gates and head upstairs. "You hired me to keep her safe? That means removing her from places that cause her physical and emotional threat. If you're not happy with how I work, find someone else."

We both know he won't. I'm the best option he has. None of his low grade servants have the guts to take a bullet for his precious legacy.

"If anything happens to my girl—" he says as I unlock Selena's door.

"Can I give you a tour of the place?" She's already in front of me before I step in.

"Um..." I hang up on Jacob, sweeping a suspicious scowl over Selena. She's standing like a baby T-Rex in last night's oversized gray sweatshirt and sweatpants. Her arms are bent at a 90 degree angle with her fidgeting hands in front of her and dainty wrists drooping.

"We don't know how long this inappropriate arrangement will last." She tucks a frizzy black curl behind her ear. "I'm not physically fit to throw you out. I can't call the police, because I don't want to do that to my dad. I dread you being here. I still can't believe it's—" She sneezes, sniffling. "I can't believe it's happening."

"Are you getting sick?"

She waves me off, spinning into the living room, where she's laid out a folded stack of green bed sheets on the couch. "Are you good with those?"

"Thank you." I didn't expect that at all. Especially from someone who didn't want me here.

"You like the color?"

I click my tongue with a disappointed head shake. "It should've been greener."

"Really? Should I order a greener one on Amazon?"

Damn, she's easy to mess with. It's cute. I look down, rubbing my smirk off with my fingers.

"Was that a joke?" She gets angry. "Fine. Get your own damn sheets. Why should I buy you a new one? Princess. This isn't a hotel, you know?" She scoffs, brushing past me into the kitchen.

I can't help but chuckle this time. Quietly.

So much attitude for such a little thing.

"What do you eat?" She glares into her open fridge.

"Puppies."

She gives me tired look, silent for a moment, and then. "Me too. You like chihuahua soup?"

"Mm, I had spicy chihuahua yesterday. You have anything with a poodle?"

"I have poodle skewers. Want me to warm it up with a side of snakes?"

The corner of my mouth lifts at how she plays along, her expression adorably blank the entire time. But before I can answer, someone knocks.

Both of our necks snap towards the front door. Everything stops. My head clears into sharp focus. Every inch of muscle under my clothes coil tightly with surging adrenaline, ready to fight whatever danger awaits behind the door.

"Don't move." I warn Selena, my voice no longer friendly. I hover my hand over the gun behind my jeans, silently approaching the peephole.

"Who is it?" Selena whispers.

Her piece of shit fiancé. Marc.

With curly black hair on top of his head like a burnt piece of broccoli. He's holding a small bouquet of red roses wrapped in a plastic sheet.

Odd. I didn't take him for the romantic kind.

I unlock the door, standing between him and Selena like a protective wall. He's shorter than me. Leaner. With a messy stubble and thick eyebrows. Pretending to not be intimidated.

"Marc? What are you doing here?" Selena's tone only proves his presence is uncommon. "Oh my God. Did someone die?"

"What?" He follows her sight, raising the roses in front of his chest. "These? They're for you."

"Oh. How thoughtfully random. Alright." She squeezes her arm around me to take the extended gift, grunting with struggle. "T-thank you."

"Can we talk?" he asks her, glancing at me.

I don't budge. I don't care. Let him be scared.

"Adam, you're not an action movie star. Move." She attempts to push me out of the way. I allow it. "Good job. You're doing great, sweetie."

I swear to God...

"No need to take your shoes off." Selena stops Marc as he leans over. "There's been so many people here in the last twenty-four hours, I have to—" Another sneeze squeaks out of her, crinkling her nose. "I have to deep clean anyway."

"Bless you. Any news on the stalker?" He follows her to the living room. I settle on a woven bar stool by the kitchen island to their left. It's enough distance to give the illusion of privacy. I don't trust him enough to leave them alone.

"Please. It must be a misunderstanding. Why would I have a stalker?" Selena plunks herself on the couch and perches in the corner, hugging her knees against her chest. "I haven't hurt anyone."

Marc rubs his hands together, resting his forearms on top of his knees. "Yeah, but they could be after you to threaten your dad."

"Why? What has he done to them?"

"I'm not saying he did something on purpose. Like you said, it could be a misunderstanding."

"Must be a big fucking misunderstanding, if it put his family in danger." Selena's eyes harden. "What did he do?"

"I don't know."

"Of course, you do." She gives him a head-to-toe, slightly amused look, and raises an eyebrow. "You work for him, don't you?"

My chest puffs up with unusual pride. She doesn't take bullshit from Jacob or Marc. Yeah, she might be sensitive, but she's not helpless. She doesn't act weak. I like that a lot.

"Not after this!" Marc rubs his palms against his jeans. "I'm leaving."

"What?"

"Yeah, I got a job offer in Germany...I'm supposed to start in three months."

There's nothing but silence for a moment. You can hear the traffic outside and distant barking.

"Well, then..." Selena removes her diamond ring and hands it over to him. "That clears up my schedule."

"You should come with me." He doesn't take the ring. "I'm serious. You'll get away from your dad, he won't be able to control you. Plus, you don't know anyone there, so no one will pressure you to do stuff you don't want to do."

Hm. Is this the same dude from yesterday who was forcing her to kiss him in front of everyone, when she was clearly uncomfortable to do so? He's acting like a different person right now. I don't like that at all. I hate fake people.

Selena freezes as she images everything he's describing. Come on. She's twenty-one-years-old. Her dad has to back off and let her be an adult. She shouldn't flee the country to get rid of him.

"I love that idea," she whispers. "Yes. Why not? I'll move to Germany."

"We would have to move up the wedding," Marc says. "Are you okay with planning it in like two, three months?"

"You mean while I study for finals? Sure, I can plan a wedding and move to a new country at the same time. Graduate, become a wife, and become German. Sure thing." She springs to her feet and scuttles into the kitchen, rummaging through the white drawers. "You want some coffee? Tea? There's so much we need to go over."

"Actually, I should go." Marc stands too, squaring his shoulders.

"Really? Already? You don't want any coffee? I make my own cold brew. Do you want Nespresso? I got like six different flavors—"

"No, I'm okay. Thank you." He fakes a chuckle.

"But we didn't go over anything..." Her shoulders drop with sulking disappointment. "This is huge. There's so much I need help on figuring out..."

Marc hesitates, clearly dying to bolt. Meanwhile, I can read in her eyes how she's spiraling into panic. Plus, she's getting sick, and I'm sure the added stress isn't helping her immune system.

I glare at Marc. This tool is supposed to look after her? In a foreign country? Spoiled brat.

"Sit down," I say calmly, pulling the bar stool beside me. My tone doesn't leave room for refusal. I can see from the way his mouth parts to object, but his last brain cell advises against it.

He sits.

Selena beams like I'm being friendly."What can I get you to drink?"

"Just water, please." Marc looks away in embarrassment.

"Okay. Room temperature, with ice or carbonated?"

"Um, with ice."

She turns to me, all sweet. "And you?"

"I'll try the Nespresso." I've seen videos of it on my phone the past couple of months, but couldn't bring myself to spend so much money on it.

"Oooh, fancy." She smirks, earning an eye-roll. It makes her giggle. "You should've seen him yesterday," she says to Marc, pretending to be me, but using a baby voice. "He was drinking a tiny little cup of espresso. His pinky up."

"I did not have my pinky up."

"You did in my imagination, you know, where you're more interesting."

She gives Marc his stupid glass of water while I continue glowering at her back. How did I end up with these clueless people? I should be home with my sister, making sure she's okay.

I run my hand aggressively over my face as the thought of her drowns me under. The six digits of her medical debt invade my vision, reminding me exactly why I'm here. Why I shouldn't leave. Why I should do everything to not mess this up.

It's none of my business if Selena wants to move to Germany. It's none of my business if they get married. The only thing that's my business is keeping her safe and getting my money.

While I'm lost in my thoughts, Selena slides a white porcelain mug in front of me. The fragrance of fresh coffee beans with vanilla and hazelnut tease my nostrils. I marvel at the rich foam sitting on top with brownish white suds.

"I made it in my special mug for you." She smiles at my stunned reaction. "Do you like it?"

"Mhm." I keep my gaze down, mentally stabbing myself for the dumb heat forming on my cheeks.

While I question whether I still have my testicles or not, those two talk about their wedding. They decide to do a small, destination one. In Cancun. Selena contacts some wedding planners and asks what their budget should be. I zone out, only paying enough attention to catch anything suspicious. Thirty minutes later, Marc leaves.

My question is, why did he seem so happy? I wonder, if there's another reason he's fleeing the country and making their wedding so secluded.

"Are you starving? Because my stomach is clinging to my spine, sucking it dry like a vampire," Selena pinches her eyes shut like she's dying from pain. "Need. Food. Now."

"Yeah, I'm starving." It's 2 PM and all I've had are two cups of coffee. I can eat my own arm.

"What would you like?" She leans on the counter between us, unlocking her phone screen.

I don't understand how she acts so casual after all that. "Do you want to move to Germany?"

"Why not?"

"It just seems really sudden."

"But attaching another human being to my hip twenty-four/seven isn't?" She scoffs, scrolling through restaurant options around the area.

She's getting defensive. I guess a part of her agrees with me, but she doesn't want to admit it.

Why not?

She's escaping from one prison into another one that's just as bad. If not worse. A new country, a new life, none of that external stuff will make her feel better. Only she has the power to do that.

"Does Marc make you happy?" I ask.

She screws up her face. "Why should that be his responsibility?"

"What?"

"That's too much responsibility to put on someone. It's hard enough to make ourselves happy. Why would I expect it from others?"

"What are you talking about? That's now how two people who love each other think. They make each other happy, because they're important to each other. Because it makes them happy."

"That's the dreeeam," she sings sarcastically, still busy on her phone. "How do you feel about European? I'm thinking smoked salmon—"

"Selena. We're not—"

"Please, I'm so hungryyyyy..." She melts on the floor, her head disappearing behind the counter. "Come on, I'm sinking like the Titanic. Jaaack..."

I take a deep breath through my nose. Why do I even try? Never mind.

She's a headache.

A/N
Awww, Adam is such a softie, huh?
Also, what's up with Marc? Any predictions?

Thank you all for reading, voting, supporting ❤️ It's so nice to see neurodivergent readers noticing some of Selena's behavior and relating to her, by the way. Let me know if I should clarify anything in the author notes, but I hope I'm doing a fair representation. Of course, everyone is different. But your feedback is always appreciated 😊