Triple-Duty Bodyguards : A Reverse Harem Romance

I can feel myself starting to crack.

I’m so tired. So, so tired. I can’t handle the insomnia and the nightmares anymore. I’m holding myself together with stubbornness and under-eye concealer, but I can feel myself fraying.

Nin, the sweet beauty therapist that Kenta and Matt called in, natters cheerfully as she carefully applies a top coat to my nails. I try to respond, but I just can’t bring myself to focus on what she’s saying.

He found me. Again. He’s following me. He’s watching me. Even now, he could be peeking in through a window, ready to snap a picture. I glance to my bedroom window, then my bathroom, like he might just pop up out of nowhere.

Luckily, Nin is happily chatting, keeping up the conversation for both of us.

“When I was a teenager, I didn’t like beauty at all,” she chuckles, using a Q-Tip to clean off the edges of my nails. “I was such a tomboy. I just wanted to study.”

“How did you get into manicures, then?” I ask, forcing myself back into the conversation.

“I’m trained in Public Relations. When I was in Thailand, I worked for the CEO of a big phone company. But the company went bust, so I moved here with my husband.” She sighs. “He left pretty soon after we moved. I tried to get a job in PR, but employers here don’t trust foreign degrees. That’s why I do beauty. My ex-husband, he didn’t pay anything for the children when they were growing up. I want them to be able to go to good colleges.”

I frown. “That’s illegal. If he refuses to pay child maintenance, you can sue him for it.”

She laughs like it’s the funniest joke in the world. “Oh, I can’t afford a lawyer. Your nails are all done, sweetie, we’re just gonna moisturise, and then you’re good to go.”

“Thank you,” I rasp. As she reaches for a bottle of lotion and warms some between her hands, I think of the letter again. I hate the idea that something X has touched is in my house. I’m not even safe from him here.

I like you better in white.

“Oh, oops!” I jump as Nin turns too suddenly, knocking over the bottle of lotion. For a moment, I just sit there, frozen, staring at the lotion spilling over my bare thigh. Onto my carpet. Some even splatters on my bedsheets.

And then I just completely lose it.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I shout, my voice spiralling up. Fear is bolting through me, and I stagger upright. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”

I rub at the lotion on my leg, trying to wipe it off, but it just buffs into my skin. Nin grabs for the bottle, babbling apologies, but she just knocks it over. I watch as it spills onto my floor, shining stickily on my carpet. I’m going to be sick.

My mouth opens. “GET OUT!” I shout. “IT’S EVERYWHERE! WH-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? I—”

Hands clamp down on my shoulders, and I gasp as Matt appears and unceremoniously shoves me out of the room, into my walk-in closet. He pulls the door shut behind us, but I can still hear Nin starting to cry in the next room. Slamming his hand on the light switch, he stares me down. He looks furious, his jaw clenched, nostrils flared.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He roars. I open my mouth, but he interrupts me. “For God’s sake, I don’t know why I expected any different. You’re just like all the others! A little spoiled rich girl who thinks just because she has money, she can treat other people like shit.”

I don’t know what to say. My mind is running at fifty miles an hour. I don’t know what just happened. I don’t understand it. I don’t know why I got so scared—

I shove Matt off me. “Go away.”

He takes a step back, fuming. “What? What could she possibly have done, to make you go off at her like that?”

“She… she spilt the lotion—”

“She’s barely making enough money to eat!” He bellows. “She works three jobs to support her kids, who she never even gets to see! You earn five times her yearly salary just by making a bloody Instagram post, so don’t you dare shout at her like she’s worth less than you!”

His blue eyes burn into mine with such raw, utter hatred that I can’t breathe right. “Get out!” I suddenly scream, grabbing the closest object to hand—a fluffy pink pom pom bag—and throwing it at his head. He ducks it easily, scowling at me, then turns and leaves, slamming the closet door behind him. I can hear Nin’s muffled sobs through the door, and his low, soothing tone as he speaks to her.

I drop to the floor. Tears prick my eyes. I’m shaking all over. I’m scared, more scared than I’ve been since I was sixteen years old. I feel like I’m going mad.

Don’t break down, I tell myself firmly. Don’t break down. You can’t.

I take a few deep breaths, then get up and force myself to keep getting ready. I wipe the sticky lotion off my skin, touch up my makeup, slip into my silver flapper dress. When I first tried it on, I thought it was glitzy and sexy, but now, I don’t want to be sexy. I feel naked as a slug. I wish I could just wrap myself up in a coat and sunglasses and fade into the background.

There’s a gentle tap on the door. I open it to see Kenta, dressed in a neat black suit. Instead of his usual gentle smile, his face is frozen and hard. Of course it is. I just reduced his sweet sixty-year-old neighbour to tears. He probably hates me. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks coldly.

Swallowing hard, I nod, smoothing down the skirt of my dress and picking up my clutch.

I don’t know how I’m going to make it through tonight.