Protection

Chapter Twenty

She had to get away.

There was no staying. Not after what had happened. No, she couldn't stay.

As soon as she saw what had broken the window, she keeled over, holding her stomach.

 A brick. And it hadn't been just any brick. It had been a brick with her family crest on it. From their home in France. The one she thought had been burned to the ground.

   Her entire body convulsed with the fear. For years- years, they had seeked her out. They had kept after her for years- because of what she had seen. And the words of one could destroy many. Her nerves were all in a jumble, from that- from that Lord-have-mercy-on-her-soul kiss. She swallowed, but then found that as she swallowed, it did nothing.

   Her constant state of fear was wearing on her nerves.

She had to leave.

"Alayna!"

She was unaware of him calling her name, but she fled. Sobs began to come from her body- tears blinded her.

  But she had to get away. She had to forget it. Anything to release her from this hateful world.

Sterling. Yes, Sterling. He said he would take her away- and she- she knew she should not have kissed Alex. But it was then that she realized why she shouldn't have kissed him. And why she couldn't tell him. And why she was so hurried to marry Sterling.

   But her shallow little emotions were the least of her problems. The lies were about to come out. She could see it now. Being tried and found guilty in France of murder and treason. And death.

  Death seemed sweet by then.

Death would be an easy escape.

No way would they just let her die. They would torture her for the rest of her life.

Alex burst through the door then. He looked exasperated and concerned, his forehead creasing in several places.

  As he opened his mouth, she cried, "Take me to Sterling!"

He slammed his mouth shut.

"Please, Alex, please!" she sobbed, and began to hyperventilate. "I can't take this any longer."

A ragged animal sound broke from his throat, and she was astounded when he said: "I don't understand why you kiss me like- like you've never kissed a man before in your life, and then you want me to run you straight into the arms of another man?"

  She slammed herself back on her soft white bed. "I must get away! I must- I must!"

"Why must you get away?" he asked.

"I'm going mad," she wept, and sat up again, weakly, covering her face with her hands. "This house," she lied. She had always been a cool liar- a sin she was not particularly proud of- but it was convenient when she needed it.

   "The house?" he repeated.

She swallowed hard. "Yes, the house."

Her next sentence was more painful than any sentence she had uttered in her twenty-two years. Because he drove her crazy. He kissed her like a woman. He pointed out her misgivings and imperfections.

   "The house," she began again. "And you."