The Bodyguard

1

DPOV

Rosemarie Hathaway. Chosen name "Rose".

Age: 22.

DOB: March 21, 2000.

Background: Turkish, Scottish, American.

Eye Colour: Brown.

Hair Colour: Brown/Black.

Height: 5'7.

Weight: 130lbs.

Occupation: n/a.

Education: St. Vladimir's Academy – Graduate/ UPenn – Animal Welfare and Behaviour – Uncompleted.

I sighed and looked at the brown eyes that stared at me in the picture attached to the file. I had sworn I would give up this job after my last client, but this case was special.

"Who's that?" my roommate and best friend Ivan asked, mumbling over the toothbrush in his mouth.

"My new client," I said quietly, closing the file and reaching for my coffee cup.

"I thought you said you weren't going to do this again after Carrie?" Ivan asked as he leaned over the sink to spit. I glared at him because that wasn't the first time he had done that in the kitchen sink.

"This one is different," I said quietly.

"How?"

I sipped my coffee and stacked my things together as I stood up.

"She just is."

Ivan raised his brows at me. "She? This is already personal for you. I think this is a bad idea."

"I owed her father a favour, that's all. She was attacked a few months back and she's terrified. It was the only thing he could think of," I explained, "So, yes. In a way, it's personal, but it's also a job."

"Who attacked her?"

I gritted my teeth. "Her ex. It wasn't the first time either, they just can't nail him with enough proof. First, it was showing up at her dorm, then it was stalking her after classes. It ended with him purposely driving into the side of her car with her in it. She was in a medically induced coma for three days because of injury. He's a monster, and Abe feels like having someone around might put her at ease," I said, my blood already boiling in my veins. It wasn't the first time that I had read Rose's file this week.

When a man from my past called me, all but begging me for my help, I couldn't say no. This man was not a beggar, nor was he a man that ever showed fear, but he did when it came to his only child. He was terrified for her, and she herself was terrified. She would stay all but isolated in their house, refusing to go out for fear of being followed or hurt again.

"Damn. That's crazy, and they can't pin the accident on him?"

"That is the only thing they can pin on him, and even then, all they got was a failure to stop," I said darkly and slipped my files into my bag and downed the last of my coffee. Ivan sighed and shook his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"That sucks. Poor kid," Ivan said quietly.

"I wouldn't exactly call her a kid, Ivan. She's twenty-two."

Ivan shook his head again. "Damn. Well, I'm sure we'll talk more about this later, I have to get to work. I'll see you tonight? I'll bring home takeout."

I nodded. "Sure. I'm not sure how late I will be tonight," I said as I pulled my bag onto my shoulder. Ivan nodded and was out the door in a breath while I picked up the left-over coffee mugs from this morning. I rinsed them out and set them in the sink.