Chapter 6

I refused to look in a mirror. I didn't want to see the monster Kylie had made of me. I fell into a deep, dark place, my body weak with fever and my spirit broken.

The head housekeeper, a kind, older woman named Martha, worried over me. "You need to eat, child. You'll waste away to nothing."

I just shook my head, turning my face to the wall. I had always been careless with my health, pushing my body for him. Now, I didn't see the point.

Then, the phone rang. It was Bradley.

"Kylie got into some trouble at a nightclub," he said, his voice clipped and urgent. "Some sleazy producer won't leave her alone. Get over there and handle it."

He didn't ask how I was. He didn't ask if I was recovered. He just gave an order.

He hung up before I could even reply.

I was just a tool. A problem-solver. Not a woman who could be hurt, who could be fragile. My pain didn't register to him.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

I dragged my aching body out of bed and went. It was my job. One last time.

The nightclub was loud and chaotic. I found Kylie in a VIP booth, cornered by a large, drunk man. She was putting on a good show of being terrified.

I stepped in, my training taking over. I moved to shield her, to de-escalate the situation.

But my body betrayed me. A wave of dizziness hit me, my movements sluggish. The man shoved me aside easily.

He lunged for Kylie. I threw myself in front of her, taking the brunt of his attack. He backhanded me across the face, the impact jarring my teeth. My head slammed against the wall.

Pain exploded behind my eyes.

Security finally arrived and dragged the man away.

Kylie didn't even look at me. She just shuddered in disgust at the blood trickling from my nose.

"You're bleeding on the floor," she said, her voice full of revulsion. She turned and walked away without a backward glance.

The world went black for a moment. When I came to, the familiar, sterile smell of antiseptic filled my nostrils. I was taken to the hospital. Again.

The nurse who treated me shook her head. "You have a concussion. And your fever is back. How are you even standing?"

"I'm used to it," I said, my voice hollow. Pain had been my constant companion for so long, it felt normal.

From the hallway, I heard their voices. Bradley and Kylie.

He was cooing at her, "Are you okay, my love? Did he scare you?"

He never once asked about me. He never came into my room.

A profound exhaustion settled over me, seeping into my very bones. I was so tired. Tired of the pain, tired of the hope, tired of him.

When he finally appeared in my doorway hours later, his face was a mask of detached concern. "The doctor says you'll be fine," he said, as if my well-being were a business report.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice laced with an irony he didn't detect.

"I'm sorry you got hurt," he offered, a pathetic, obligatory apology.

I looked him straight in the eye. "I want to leave," I said. "I'm terminating my contract."

He looked shocked, then amused. "Leave? Kaci, don't be ridiculous. Where would you go? Who would hire you, looking like... that?" He gestured to my bandaged face. "I made you. You are nothing without me."

His arrogance was astounding.

A torrent of emotion I had suppressed for years finally broke free.

"I loved you!" I screamed, the words tearing from my throat, raw and ragged. "I loved you, Bradley! Not as a bodyguard, not as a substitute! I loved you, the man! For three years, I dedicated my life to you, hoping you would see me! But you never did! You never saw me at all!"

He stared at me, his mouth slightly agape. For the first time, he looked truly stunned. He seemed to see me, really see me, for the first time.

He took a step back, as if my words were a physical blow. "You... you love me?"

The realization was dawning on his face, slow and painful.

But it was too late.

"I loved you," I corrected him, my voice dropping to a whisper. "Past tense."

I felt a strange sense of release, as if a heavy chain had been lifted from my soul.

I reached over and ripped the IV from my arm. The alarm started to shriek, a frantic, piercing sound.

"It's over," I said.

I swung my legs out of bed and stood up, my body trembling but resolute. I walked towards the door.

"Kaci, wait!" he called out, his voice laced with a new, unfamiliar desperation. He reached for me.

I didn't stop. I didn't look back.

I walked out of the room, out of the hospital, and out of his life.

For the first time in three years, I felt free.