My Fiancé’s Bodyguard by Ivy Wild

It’d beena whole week since I left home, and I’d never changed so much in such a short span of time. Of all the things about my appearance that changed, I think the thing that bothered me the most was my hair. At first, I was excited about getting to change things up and thought I might go for a fun color like pink or blue. But Phil quickly smashed my dreams.

“Let me repeat that you are undercover. That bad people are looking all over the place for you. So anything that brings unwanted attention to you is bad. That means no pink hair. No crazy outfits. Nada. Embrace the frumpiest version of yourself possible, little lady.”

I sighed as I looked at my lifeless ash brown hair in the mirror. Phil wouldn’t even let me dye my hair black, repeating again that I was undercover. I knew he was right, but still. My one chance at freedom and still I found that things were denied to me because of who I was. Even things as simple as my hair color.

I tied the thing back into a low ponytail and drew a thin line of eyeliner around my eyes to darken my appearance without drawing attention to myself. I tucked my bangs into a plain baseball cap and rolled my eyes in frustration.

“Let’s go, little lady!” Phil yelled from the other room and I hurried out of the bathroom.

The early mornings were tough to get used to, but despite my complaints, I’d take living my life in Revere to my life in Dover any day. But today was a day I was really excited about. After a week at working tables at Phil’s place, I had enough to put down a deposit for my own place. It was one of those furnished places that rented rooms by the month. It was just under 600 square feet and didn’t even have a full kitchen by modern standards, but I didn’t care. It was gonna be the first thing in this world that I could truly say I’d worked to get.

Not only that but as of yesterday, I was enrolled at the local community college. I didn’t know what I wanted to major in but I didn’t care. I signed up for two classes, Western Philosophy and a history class (the latter at Phil’s request because apparently my knowledge was lacking). My first class was tonight and I was beyond excited.

I just needed to get through work today, and then my new life was finally beginning for real. I ran to meet Phil at the car and jumped into the driver's seat. He was teaching me how to drive “just in case.” The little diner was only a few blocks away so there wasn’t much risk to me being behind the wheel.

Phil told me if I could learn how to drive a car in Boston, I could drive anywhere. I think he was right. The streets twisted and turned and directions had no rhyme or reason. Some of the streets were even made of old cobblestones. Phil told me legend was that when planners were designing the city, a bunch of cows were left grazing and they made the roads where the cows walked. Part of me thought that might have been true.

We pulled up to the back of the diner, and I hopped out quickly and ran inside to open up. What I told Phil wasn’t a lie. I was a quick learner and I liked to think that I helped make his job a little easier. In the mornings I unlocked everything and got the signs lit up. And in the evenings, I helped him wipe down the tabletops and do all of the cleaning.

It was the least I could do for someone who had done so much for me. Other than pointing out the day of our first meeting that Johnny Maldonado was a dangerous man, Phil hadn’t hesitated to help me one bit. I still didn’t understand it, but he promised he would give me a better explanation one day.

The breakfast rush came and went and I was busy ringing customers up all morning. My mind was half on my work and half on all the things I was looking forward to this afternoon once I got off my shift. Lately, I’d been working full days at the diner, but Phil said today he would take me around after the lunch rush to run my long-awaited errands.

A full week had gone by and no one had so much as looked at me strange. As much as I hated it, I think the dull brown hair was working. I blended into the washed-up Revere scene perfectly. In some ways it made me laugh. I was just as worn out from life as the rest of them. Drudgery affected the rich and poor the same.

The hours passed by with me lost in thought and before long, the lunch rush was finally dying down. I looked at the clock in anticipation. Fifteen minutes until Phil and I were scheduled to leave.

Fifteen minutes until the start of my new life.

The bell on the top of the door chimed signaling another customer had walked in. I was busy refilling the grinds on the coffee machine so I called out over my shoulder. “Be with you in a minute!”

A grunt was all I got back but that wasn’t unusual for the late lunch crowd in Revere. As soon as I got the machine situation, I grabbed a menu and rounded the counter. I looked up to see where the customer had sat and saw him all the way in the last booth.

He looked up at me with his gray eyes and I froze.

It was Max Holt.

Sitting there with a smirk plastered on his face.

Torture wasn’t reallymy style but man if it was, my first victim would have been that old maid Doris. She was obviously Madelyn’s mama bear and it was clear as day that the bat knew where the girl was. But I knew better than to head back to the Dimes estate. Johnny said he wanted me to handle the situation. That meant not involve Dimes or anyone associated with him.

Just my fucking luck, too. Cause that made my job a hell of a lot harder. In the morning, I got up and made my rounds to the bus stops closest to her house. After a few dead leads, someone mentioned that they had seen a young blonde board a bus towards the city. That meant I needed to trace all the routes of the fucking Greyhounds that went into Boston from that particular location and that made me fucking angry.

I knew why Johnny wanted this girl. And if he’d had a taste of her like I had, he wouldn’t have just wanted her. But for now, she was a means to an end. The deal he’d negotiated with her father was too good for him to pass up. It was a bragging rights situation for him, really. He wanted to be able to sit at a table and tell people that he had bought the girl for a negative amount of money, meaning Dimes paid him to take her.

I rolled my eyes as I crossed off another path that led to a dead-end. No one on this route had seen the blonde runaway. It took me several days to go through all the routes into the city until I finally landed on one that terminated just outside the city in Revere.

For all the good Paul Revere did riding through the city, he sure got the shaft when they named this part of town after him. Revere was a dump and that was putting it mildly. Certain areas of the city were seeing new life. Like Seaport. When I was young, no respectable person would be seen within a mile of Seaport. Now they were building fancy hotels and condos there like it didn’t have some sordid past.

City governments were the best pimps. They knew how to do the makeup just right to make you think you were getting the real deal. They had all the fucking yuppie millennials fooled.

But Revere hadn’t gotten its much-needed facelift. It was a shithole then and it was a shithole now. And I was the proctologist tasked with exploring.

Yeah, my job was awesome.

I started off at the bus stops with no luck. My stomach rumbled in agitation and I decided I better stop for something to eat otherwise I’d end up beating up a stranger. And I was trying to be less of an asshole—trying.

A run-down diner was on the street corner and it looked blissfully empty inside. I made my way there and opened the door to the joint. It was exactly what you’d expect of a diner in Revere—not much.

Some girl was making coffee behind the counter and she called out over her shoulder in a voice that sounded all too familiar. I brushed it off and made my way to the back booth.

When she was done making the coffee, I watched her pick up a menu and round the counter. She looked up and I met her blue eyes straight on.

For a second, I wasn’t quite sure who I was looking at. I’d been staring at pictures of Madelyn all day and it was as if everyone was morphing into the stupid girl. But when she froze on the spot, that’s when I knew I’d seriously just struck gold.

I smirked.

I’d found her.

She was fucking done.

She made her way over to me and I had to give her credit. The girl had guts. She was always surprising me. I thought for sure she’d run, but she didn’t.

She placed the menu in front of me and in a relatively calm voice said, “Hi. My name is Matilda and I will be your waitress this evening.”

Oh, it was too fucking perfect. I couldn’t resist playing along.

“Hey, Matilda,” I said, letting her fake name roll off my tongue. “Nice to meet you.”

She gulped.

“Right. Well, what can I get started for you today?”

I smirked. “I dunno. That all depends,” I said.

She shook her head. “Depends on what?”

“You see, I’m a little down on my luck. I’ve only got dimes to my name. How far do you think I’ll get?”

I could see her little spirit break and she stood there, hanging her head and not saying anything.

“Come on, princess. Have a seat,” I said.

She sat down in the booth heavily and didn’t look up at me for a whole thirty seconds.

“Having a fun pity party?”

“Fuck you,” she said under her breath, just in case I thought she’d lost her feistiness. “How’d you find me?” she asked.

I chuckled. “I was hungry.”

She looked up and her eyes widened. “No shit,” I said. “I’m not even gonna lie to you, princess.”

“What happens now?” she asked.

I rolled my shoulders. “Well, I wasn’t lyin’ about the being hungry part. How about you make me something to eat and then we take it from there.”

“What makes you so confident I won’t spit in your food,” she said, looking up to meet me with her intense blue eyes. She looked so different than when I first met her. Her hair was darker and pulled back into a low ponytail and she was wearing a weathered ballcap. Man, if her father could see her like this, he’d have a heart attack and that would make my fucking year.

“You say that like I haven’t already tasted your saliva, princess. If you’re gonna spit on it though, please do it in front of me. I’d like to watch.”

“You’re a sick fuck,” she said, still not budging from her seat.

I laughed. “I’m a man.”

“Matilda,” a loud voice called out to her from the kitchen. Her eyes widened and the corner of my mouth lifted as I realized I had my leverage.

“You know, not everyone hires a runaway like yourself. The owner must be real nice to hire a little street rat like yourself. I’m hurt that you didn’t list me as a reference.”

Her expression gave it all away.

“Johnny doesn’t have to know about the people who helped you,” I said, leaning forward and putting my elbows on the table. “That is, as long as you cooperate.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek and my soul gnawed at my heart to stop, but I was too far gone. You see, there’s an order to the soul and the heart that not many people know about.

When you work a boring job that you hate, your soul dies. It dies a slow and silent death and it leaves you feeling empty and numb. Your heart still beats though. Those people are still alive.

But, when you do the shit that I do? When you see the shit that I’ve seen? And when you lose people like I’ve lost them? Yeah, it’s not your soul that dies. It’s your heart. Your soul stays alive. Constantly trying to appeal to an organ that’s dead and gone. It ain’t listening. And you just end up a heartless zombie.

So you do shit you know you shouldn’t do.

You say shit you know you shouldn’t say.

And you’re helpless to stop it.

Cause you’re all dead inside.

So when that tear rolled down her cheek, I felt it. I knew that she thought this was gonna be her new life. Her new start. She was like a bird who had been set free but just before she was able to fly, her flight feathers were clipped.

And I was the one holding the fucking scissors.

But there was nothing there to stop me.

Not anymore.

“Whattya say, princess?”

She nodded her head slowly but didn’t say anything back.

It was the mark of someone whose soul was dying.

“Can I go say goodbye?”I asked, not daring to look up at Max. I didn’t want to let him see me cry. I didn’t want him to know how much this was hurting me. I didn’t want him to know just how disappointed I was.

He shrugged. “Be my guest. But if you think you’re gonna run, just remember what I told you. The deal’s only on the table if you cooperate. I’m sure Doris appreciates it.”

I flinched at his statement. How did he know Doris had something to do with my disappearance? I sighed internally. Well, given that she was the one that convinced him to show up to my room, it probably wasn’t that difficult for him to figure out that she and I were close.

“No problems,” I muttered as I slid out of the booth and headed into the kitchen. Phil was there, and his face lit up as soon as he saw me.

“Three o’clock is finally here! You ready to go?” But his excitement turned to worry the moment he got a good look at me. “Mattie?” That’s what he’d taken to calling me. To me, it was endearing, especially because my mother used to call me “Maddie.”

I shook my head and kept my eyes down. “I can’t go, Phil. They found me,” I said in a rushed whisper, not daring to look up. The moment I did, I knew the tears would start and I just wouldn’t allow myself to cry over this.

Phil’s features hardened, and he looked like he was about to barge out of the kitchen. I rushed forward and put my hands on his chest. “Phil, no! It’s not worth it,” I said, a few stray tears betraying my will and falling down my cheeks. “I was foolish to think I’d ever be able to get away with this. I’m just sorry I dragged you into all this.”

My hands were still pushing against his chest, and he looked down at me full of pity and heartbreak. His long arms wrapped around me, and he pulled me into a tight hug. I broke in his embrace, and even though I thought I would be embarrassed, I wasn’t.

He held me there for a moment before he pulled back and ushered me over to a few overturned plastic crates. I sat across from him and he squeezed my hand. “Hey,” he said before reaching over and tapping the bottom of my chin. “I know it seems hopeless right now, but you’ve got one hell of a spirit, little miss. I know you ain’t gonna take this shit lying down.”

I brushed a bit of snot and tears away from my face with the back of my sleeve and gave him a weak smile. “I’m just sorry I dragged you into all this for nothing.”

But Phil shook his head. “No. This wasn’t for nothing. Not by a long shot.” He hesitated for a moment. “Think you got time for one last story?” he asked me.

I nodded my head. Max could wait all week as far as I was concerned.

Phil put his head down with a sad smile. “You may not know this, but the Bronze Star is most often awarded to people in the military who have displayed heroic acts in a combat zone. If you get wounded during the ordeal, you also get what’s called a ‘V Device’ on the ribbon. It’s a pretty big deal. There’s a big ceremony and everything.”

I stayed quiet and listened to Phil. Something told me that he wasn’t about to tell me that he’d won this award.

“Yeah, it’s a pretty big deal to get that Bronze Star. And don’t get me wrong. For those that have earned it, it’s well-earned.” He looked down at the chipped tile floor beneath us and shook his head. “We were camping out a little too far away from our FOB,” he hesitated. “A FOB’s a ‘forward operating base.’ Well, anyways, we got too far away and night hit us quick and we had to hunker down. It was quiet for a few hours. And then the clouds started to roll in and so did the enemy. They shot at us like the sitting ducks we were and none of us could see a damn thing in that jungle. I was just a punk kid back then. Eighteen and scared shitless. I ran and got separated from the group and someone followed me. Still shooting at me all the while. I got pinned down at the edge of a river. I thought for sure I was done for. And then one of the guys of our company came out of nowhere to take this sucker out. His name was Brian and he got shot in the process. He was medevacked out and I heard they amputated his leg before he eventually passed away from complications. He got the award posthumously—meaning after he died.”

Phil sucked in a deep breath. “Brian died because of me. Because of something I did. His life was worth celebrating to be sure, but no one thinks about the people on the other end, do they? The guys that needed saving. The embarrassment that comes with that. The pure fucking guilt at knowing that I’m sitting here, talking to you, living, while he’s six feet under because I was a scared kid and made a bad choice.

“Well anyways. When all this started you asked me why I would help you. Why I would help someone I didn’t even know.” He looked up at me then, his eyes swimming with tears. “And the answer is cause I’m constantly trying to do right by what that one man did for me. I went through some dark times when Brian died, I ain’t gonna lie to ya, kid. But, I found my way out of the darkness by trying to do right by others. Besides,” he said with a sad chuckle, “it’s cheaper than therapy.”

I reached forward and linked my hands with Phil’s. “I never really thought I had a father. Sure, I had a man who I’m biologically related to, but that doesn’t make someone your father. I think you’re the closest I’ve ever come to someone worthy of that title. In just a few short days, you’ve done more for me than the man I’ve lived with for twenty-two years,” I said honestly. “I’ll never forget you, Phil,” I said, rushing forward to give him a hug.

He stood and wrapped his big arms around me. “Don’t ever give in,” he whispered against my hair. “Fight like hell and show those fuckers just what you’re made of.”

I nodded, taking strength from his words. “Thanks, Phil. I’ll come visit. I swear it.”

He lifted my chin up and smiled at me. “I’m countin’ on it.”

Phil and I both knew there was no fighting this. We’d talked about what would happen if one of Maldonado’s guys found me. There was no running from this, but that didn’t mean there was no resistance. My mother told me that the hardest battles are those you wage in the silent chambers of your own soul. Well, a battle was brewing and my courage would be the deciding factor.

I lifted my head high and walked out of the kitchen, not daring to look back, lest my resolve break.

Max lookedup at me as I walked back to the booth. “Ready?” I asked him.

“What? No lunch?” he asked and I grit my teeth.

“This isn’t just some game for me, in case you weren’t aware,” I said, trying to keep my voice low so I didn’t cause a scene.

“I wasn’t joking. I came here ‘cause I was hungry. Sit your ass down, we’re gonna eat something,” he said, looking over the menu.

I stayed standing and crossed my arms. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way I’m serving you food.”

Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew it wasn’t a good idea to piss this guy off. Whatever tenderness he’d shown me when he kissed me that one afternoon was clearly gone now. He seemed even harder and colder than he’d been when I first met him, if that were even possible. The woman in me said I should let him eat, because there was seriously nothing worse on earth than a hungry man. Dealing with them was about as painful as watching the first 2020 Presidential debate at full volume.

I heard him growl before he stood and walked past me, bumping into me on his way to the door. I followed behind him without argument.

The time for running was over.

The time for resolve was now.

We made our way out of the diner, and I climbed into the passenger seat of the black Escalade he and Johnny always showed up to the house in. It was twice as large and probably a million times more expensive than Phil’s old Town Car, but I hated it.

I didn’t bother slamming my door. It didn’t do any good to throw a tantrum at the situation. I shut the door calmly and tried to remain in control. The sounds of the city ceased as soon as we were both in the car. The silence was almost deafening and it pressed against my ears.

“So, what now?” I asked Max as he clicked his seatbelt into place.

He looked at me and nodded his head to the seatbelt. “Safety first.”

My attitude broke through my outer layer of calm I was so desperately holding onto, and I let my head fall back into the leather headrest with a dramatic sigh. “God, you are so frustrating.”

“Says the woman who wouldn’t let a man even get a sandwich.”

The belt clicked and I stared straight ahead without really looking out the windshield as Max backed the car out. “I never said you couldn’t have a sandwich. I just wasn’t going to be the one to serve it to you,” I retorted.

He revved the engine as we made our way onto one of the main roads through the city. “Thanks for the clarification, princess,” he muttered under his breath.

We sat in silence for several minutes as he weaved his way around Route 1 traffic. “Where are we going?” I finally asked when I realized we weren’t heading towards Dover.

“My place,” he gruffed and my eyes widened.

“Um, no thank you,” I said instantly.

“I’m in no mood to haul ass all the way out to Dover this afternoon,” he said, and then he turned those gray eyes of his on me briefly before saying, “And I didn’t think you were all that keen on seeing Johnny again so quickly.”

I swallowed thickly. Everyone knew Johnny operated out of Little Italy in the North End. Which was pretty much just over the bridge from Revere. Max could have easily taken me to him, but for some reason, he wasn’t. For that, I suppose I should be grateful.

“Fine,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and looking out the window at the scenery. I savored every passing tree, every odd building on Route 1, every person I could catch a glimpse of in other cars. I took it all in, knowing it would likely be the last time I was able to enjoy something like this ever again.

“And quit calling me princess,” I bit back, still refusing to look at him. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t really have the look anymore.”

He laughed—laughed—at me. “Yeah, I did notice,” he said. “But the name was never really about your hair,” he added.

I scoffed. “Then what was it about?”

He shrugged. “What does it matter?”

I just shook my head sadly. “What does anything matter?” I said quietly.

We didn’t talk for the rest of the drive. A whole thirty minutes and he was putting the Escalade in park in front of an old factory on the outskirts of town.

“Come on,” he said gruffly as he climbed out of the car. I exited as well and looked up at the old brick building. It still maintained its reddish hue, but a majority of the bricks were crumbling and the whole place just felt—old, but not in the vintage way. The parking lot was overgrown with some grass and there were very few cars.

“Is this where you live?” I asked him.

“Sorry it ain’t a mansion in Dover, but you’ll be home soon enough,” he bit back at me.

I hadn’t meant to offend him, and I followed him inside quietly. I guess a part of me thought that, given what he did for a living, he might be living in some penthouse in the city somewhere. It was pretty obvious that Max wasn’t just some whatever foot soldier. Even if he tried to claim he was.

We climbed stairs up to the fourth floor, and Max opened the door and ushered me inside. His apartment actually surprised me. It was an open-style loft with high windows that let in a lot of natural light. He had a few houseplants that could have used a little love but were still alive. For a man who made his money in killing, the irony was not lost on me.

A few leather chairs and a sofa made up his living room, and a leather platform bed off to the sidewall with a few freestanding wardrobes was over to the right.

He closed the door behind us, and I watched him lock the door with a key from the inside out from the corner of my eye.

“I’m not gonna run,” I told him.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t deal in hopes and dreams.”

He pulled his gun out of his holster and I stepped back in shock before he spoke. “Relax, princess. I ain’t gonna shoot ya,” he said before going through a series of movements that were so fluid and natural. The magazine was separated from the gun before he checked the barrel and finally, he held the gun down and pulled the trigger, the gun clicking harmlessly.

“You really were a soldier,” I said without thinking as he made his way over to his bed and to the gun safe I’d mistaken as a wardrobe. He placed the components inside and closed the door, clicking the lock in place.

“Let’s not start that again,” he said before shrugging off his vest. He began to tug his tee-shirt off his head as well and I turned around, blushing like mad.

“Suddenly the princess is shy?” he taunted at me from the other side of the room. “I don’t remember you being so shy just a few days ago.”

I rolled my eyes. “A few days ago you weren’t trying to return me to a man who was going to sell me to a mob boss,” I yelled over my shoulder, still refusing to look at him.

Because I very much needed to not look at him. I’d felt just how hard Max’s body was when I’d foolishly let him kiss me in my bedroom. His vest hid a lot of his body on a day-to-day basis, but I knew just how built Max really was.

And lusting after my captor was something my pride just couldn’t take at the moment. A few moments later and Max walked out into the kitchen in a plain white tee and a pair of sweatpants. I nearly did a double-take at seeing what he was wearing.

“Something the matter?” he asked as he pulled some bread out of the cabinet and some cold cuts from the fridge. I watched with wide eyes as he made himself a sandwich before he leaned against the counter and took a bite. His face was smug and I hated it. I hated that he thought he’d won one over on me.

“This isn’t just some game to me,” I said.

He took another bite of his sandwich, looking unconcerned by my impending breakdown.

“You’ve said,” he replied, continuing to eat.

“No wonder you’re a fucking mobster,” I said through grit teeth, my attempt at remaining calm smashing along with my pride. “You’d never be able to hold down a job with an attitude like yours.”

Max finished the rest of his sandwich and put his plate in the sink. “Don’t act like you know the first thing about me, princess,” he said with hard eyes. “Because you don’t.”

“I know you’re an asshole,” I said.

"Watch it, princess," he said, wiping his hands on a nearby towel and heading back towards his makeshift bedroom. I looked out the window with a sigh. The sun was starting to set, as were my hopes for a different life.

Something hit me in the chest, and I startled as I awkwardly tried to catch it before it hit the floor. It was a blanket. I looked up at him with a confused look. "What's this for?"

"Thought you might get cold sleeping on the couch," he gruffed.

"Um," I started to say. "What do you mean. You expect me to sleep on your couch?" I looked at him with disbelief.

He chuckled at my obvious discomfort. "You ever heard the tale of the princess and the pea?"

"The story about a woman who was saved from retched circumstances and got to marry a prince because she had a bad back?"

Max raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you think's gonna happen? That one day you'd find some prince and get an HEA?"

I scoffed. "No. I never thought that would happen for me. Nor is it what I wanted," I said, balling up the blanket and walking it to the couch.

"Well," Max said, stretching his arms over his head. "I'd say I cared and wanted to hear you vent your life story, but then I'd be lying. Sleep well, princess." He looked around the apartment. "And, I wouldn't try any of the windows or locks. The place is more wired than a teenager with braces."

"First off, gross. Second off, go fuck yourself."

Max just shrugged and closed the dividers, leaving me alone in his apartment. I bristled as I spread the blanket out and pulled it over me.

I hated the fact that he'd found me.

I hated the fact that I was here.

I hated the fact that the blanket smelled like him.

And most of all, I hated the fact that I like it.