On The Run With James Dean [UNDER RECONSTRUCTION]

Thirteen - "I'm trying to protect you."

After my shower I changed into some comfortable leggings and oversized green t-shirt that hung over the edge of one shoulder. I put on some fuzzy socks and left my room to go downstairs.

Killian had already started the fire in the living room and I breathed in the heavenly scent of the burning wood as I trudged through to the kitchen where he was already almost finished making dinner.

He was standing by the stove with his back to me, wearing only his green plaid pajama pants and nothing else. His hair was still damp and my eyes fixated on the dimples on his lower back. As he moved his body, i could see his back muscles stretching and contorting.

When he turned around I damn near passed out. My eyes trailed from his gorgeous face, down to his collarbone, then following his chest hair down to his torso. His pj's hung so loosely underneath his 'V', that if he made any sudden movements they might fall down. I don't think I'd be that lucky though.

His eyes met mine and he smirked. He clearly knew I was checking him out.

"What are we having?" I casually said, taking a seat at the counter. Please say you. Or maybe you're for dessert?

God woman you're being chased by thugs - take it down a notch!

"Spaghetti" He replied, dishing it up on 2 plates. Well, that would have been my second choice, I suppose.

He placed a plate in front of me and took a seat next to me at the counter. The spaghetti was delicious.

"This is so good. I had no idea you could cook." I told him, as I practically inhaled the plate.

"There's alot of things you don't know about me, sugar." He winked and I almost choked on my food.

We finished eating and he took both of our dirty plates and forks to sink. He asked if I wanted a hot chocolate, to which I of course said yes, and after he'd finished making them we took them through to the living room and sat in front of the fire place. I decided now was the time to get some answers.

"So, are you going to tell me what's going on, now? And who that FBI guy was?" I asked. He closed his eyes and put his head down. I think he was hoping that I'd forget about it.

"Sugar, it's not that I don't want you to know it's just... I need to keep you safe and you don't need to know the details for me to do that. I'm trying to protect you."

Up until that moment I had remained calm. I was ready to sit down and talk like adults. But he had pushed me to my limit and I snapped. All of the emotions I was feeling from the last few days just poured out.

"WHAT THE FUCK, KILLIAN?! YOU FUCKING PROMISED ME!" I screamed.

"I'm sorry okay! I need to keep you safe - that's all I'm trying to do!" He said loudly. It was obvious that he was trying not to yell at me. I appreciated the fact that he was trying, but I wasn't done. Not even close.

"I am so fucking sick of people telling me what I do and don't need! I'm not a fucking child, Killian, and I'm sick of being treated like a dainty little doll that's going to break!"

"Thats not what-" I didn't let him finish. Instead I stood up and carried on yelling.

"You know what I needed, Killian? I needed to be told that my mother had cancer. I needed to know that she had put her life on the line by denying herself chemotherapy so she could protect my unborn brother. I needed to know that after he was born it was too late and that she was dying. But I didn't get any of that. All i got was my dad taking me to my aunts one day and picking me up 2 days later and telling me my mom had died."

Tears had made their way up to my eyes and overflowed down my cheeks but I didn't care. I was too preoccupied with the anger that was forcing it's way out.

"He told me that he and my mom didn't tell me about her cancer to 'protect me'; said that they didn't want me to have the memory of seeing her lying in a bed, all shriveled up, connected to a bunch of machines. But that should have been my choice to make, not theirs! Do you know how it feels that I didn't get the chance to say goodbye to her? That choice was taken away from me by 2 people who were supposedly trying to protect me. Just like you're supposedly trying to do now. So I am fucking done with people deciding what's best for me!"

I ran out, straight upstairs to my room where I slammed the door behind me and collapsed onto my bed. I couldn't hold back anymore and all the grief and anger poured out of me in sobs.

I was crying so hard I didn't hear the door opening, or the feeling of the bed dipping behind me. Two arms wrapped themselves around me and pulled me into a warm chest. I didn't fight back; I couldn't - I had no energy to. I held onto him with tightly and he didn't say a word, or move from his position holding me. He sat there with me in his arms and let me cry.

As my sobbing started to slow, he lifted a hand and softly stroked my head.

"I'm sorry, Sugar. I'm so sorry. I promise I'll tell you everything. Just calm down first, okay." His voice was soft and calming. He continued to stroke my hair and kissed the top of my head.

Slowly my body started to relax and my breathing returned to normal. But I stayed there, clinging to his unclothed chest, savouring the calm that was washing over me. I noticed his skin was warm to the touch and soft and I didn't want to let him go.

Unfortunately he decided otherwise and unwrapped his arms from around me. He raised his hands and brushed the tears from my face with his thumbs.

"You okay, now?" He asked softly.

"Yeah." I replied; my voice croaky and strained. There was a silence between us for a few minutes before he broke it by saying something I didn't expect.

"My parents are FBI agents."

That, of course, was a shock. But it was nothing compared to what he said next.

"And so is your father."