I'm seeing some new names commenting- liveurlife, tothefullpotential (are you the same person, your names go together? Lol) Daniela and Susan- thank you for the positive feedback :) greenipod, thanks for reviewing each chapter, it's never too late!

And I see those familiar names too, so don't go getting' jealous :p

Good to have you back whirlerflake & kaybaby :)

I appreciate you all, thank you.

CHAPTER 11

Please god, don't make me go out there. Don't make me go out there and face the man I kissed last night- the one who didn't kiss me back…

My prayer is not answered. I groan as a soft knock sounds on my door and I roll onto my front to hide myself from the visitor even though he's still on the other side of the door.

"Gabi? Are you okay in there?"

Am I ok? Well that's debateable. Do you mean, physically, am I ok, has anyone hurt me? Yes, I'm actually fine, thank you.

But otherwise? Distraught. Ashamed. Crapping myself beyond comprehension at facing this moment. I have never kissed a guy before and not had him kiss me back.

Sounds cocky, I know, but it's not. I've just been lucky enough to have my feelings reciprocated before. I've been lucky enough to be kissed back.

"Gabi, open up, or I'm coming in." His tone is harder, edged with concern, and maybe-just maybe- a little danger if he finds wrongdoings inside.

Go ahead, break in, see if I care, I muse, still hiding under my mane of black curls, something I am now grateful for. Maybe I can brush them over my face and become and 'It'-like being. You can still see I'm human, still see I'm a girl, even. Just not have to see my embarrassed, shameful face.

"Gabi?" The door opens and I make out the relieved sigh as Troy enters. In with him comes this heavy pressing awareness of what I did. I swallow to try and rid the lump of rejection in my throat. The one I haven't dealt with yet.

"What?" I mumble into my pillow.

"You didn't answer…" I can almost hear his frown.

"I'm sleeping." I lie, still muffled by my hiding place.

"You should answer. So that I know you're okay…" Aw. So concerned, I muse.

"I'm ok."

"Are you getting up today?" He enquires and I imagine him placing his hands on his hips that way he always does when he thinks he's my father and has to tell me what to do.

"No." At least I'm honest.

"You're not hungry?" He checks, knowing full well I am. He's never seen me skip a meal, it's my legendary trait. No matter how busy I am, how many places I have to go, how fast I have to run- I always eat. Hence my big backside. Hence how it wobbles when he's behind me. Maybe skipping breakfast wouldn't be a bad idea…

"Gabi." He's annoying me now. Why is he still here?

"Go away."

"I know why you're doing this," he broaches and I hold my breath, the pain of my embarrassment flooding me with regret.

"Then you'll leave me alone." I reason, holding my hair down with my hands to reinforce my hiding position.

"Look," In my mind, I see him lick his lips- he does that when he's nervous. "Let's forget about last night, okay?"

Forget about it? I snort at the irony. I won't be forgetting it any time soon. It's burned into me like a big angry blister, reminding me never to be so stupid as to kiss a guy again. What was I thinking? Guys my age-sure. Go for it- chances are, they'll kiss you back even if they don't fancy you.

Twenty-six year old men with jobs to do and homes to go to? With random grown women to shag? Really, Montez, you should know better…

"Are you mad at me?"

His question unsettles me. Mad? Hah! I wish! Why would I be mad? At him? I'm mad at myself for ever thinking it, for ever trying it and now for ever imagining it- because it's obvious that I have imagined the whole thing. The looks he supposedly gave me, the smiles. It was all a figment of my fear-pickled mind and it had presented itself with my stupid need to kiss him.

Only his voice is soft, inflected with worry, like he knows there's part of last night that lies with him.

"No." I confirm, feeling my precarious tears threaten, swallowing them down again.

He doesn't want me. Oh, god, it's so achingly clear he doesn't want me. And why would he? Look at me! A crying, shaking, emotional mess of a GIRL that he just has to look after, like a little pet or a daughter of his own. I am and never will be-

"I never meant to hurt your feelings."

Oh god, so he knows. He knows I'm bawling because he rejected me. Can this day get any worse? You know what? Bring on the stalker; I'd rather face him right now than this big, excruciating mess.

"Will you please just say something?" He begs and I realise he is not going away. He really wants to make sure this is okay. If it wasn't so ironic, it might actually be touching.

"It's fine, Troy," I lift my head but don't look to him, the tears aching my throat and changing my voice. I sound blocked up, hurt. "You didn't do anything wrong."

There's silence. I guess he has gone. Finally. I rest my face back down and sob, really sob, letting my emotions out now I have the privacy to do so.

"I'm sorry," his warm hand spreads flat against my back and I jump, not expecting him there.

"Jesus!" I complain in fright, breathing hard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He's sorry a lot it seems.

"I told you, I'm fine."

"Look, last night…" Another lick of his lips, I know him so well I don't even have to see him do it.

"Please, can we not talk about it anymore? I'm embarrassed enough as it is."

"You should know-"

"Know what, Troy?" This time I do twist and squint into his eyes, the blue there bringing the ache into my chest I didn't want. One of longing. One of not having.

I continue, "I should know that all you think of me, is that I'm some girl who runs around on daddy's money, drinking beer when I shouldn't be- playing games I shouldn't be?" I question.

Actually, strip poker did work. I had successfully seduced guys before that way.

Another lick. "That's not what I think…"

"Then what?" I challenge, only the silence that follows is loud and painful, until it is broken by a loud bang, a shotgun, nearby.

Troy jumps up, hand to his gun immediately as he comes around the bed to split my curtains, instantly assessing the scene as I sit up, panicked, my heart beating a hundred miles an hour.

"Stay here." He tells me firmly, weaving around my bed to head out.

"Wait!" I cry, frightened.

"I set the trip wire. You'll know if anyone comes near. Just hide under the bed and I'll come find you." He instructs and I nod, shaking, wrapping my arms around myself.

They have to be the longest moments of my life, waiting for him to return. I can't breathe. I can't even sit, I have to walk. I have to pace my worry off, and I keep telling myself not to look. I can't look out of that window because I am afraid of what I might see.

It takes hours. It must be hours! It feels like ten hours have passed already and its maybe only ten minutes. And then I hear footsteps on the veranda.

They come inside, heavy and sure and as the breath leaves my lungs, I pray inwards silently that the steps belong to Troy because the alternative is unthinkable. The alternative-

"Hey, it's ok," He wraps me into his body and holds tight, all the while I'm hugging myself and gasping for breaths. "Shh, it's okay…"

If there is a time I'm not crying, I don't remember it. This is truly more embarrassing than trying to kiss him. And then my tears after. And lest we forget the billion other times I bawled my eyes out in front of this man. James never got any. Not that I felt like I could let my guard down with him the way I have with Troy, but still. I should have shared them out more.

"I have to stop crying!" I tell myself, wiping my face as I am crushed to Troy's body, making some room between us as I do so.

"It's a natural reaction," he assures caringly.

"Who had the gun?" I look up, wide eyed.

"The farmer who owns the land behind."

"What if he comes, Troy? What if the stalker comes here and I have no chance?" I worry.

"You have me," he reminds me.

"They haven't caught him yet?" I check and he shakes his head.

"Have you heard from your dad?" He asks.

"I don't have signal anymore," I press the corner of my lips in.

"Try mine…" He offers his handset and I dial, reaching the voicemail of my family home.

"Mom, Dad, it's me. Your only daughter," I sigh at the machine. "You must have got lost in the Andes and eaten each other alive because I called a billion times and you never answer…" I roll my eyes at Troy, finding him smirking at my message. "So yeah, call me." I finish, handing him his cell back.

"Nice message."

"Do you think they're ok?" I worry momentarily.

He looks at me blankly. "I hope so."

I nod, hating this feeling of unease from all angles. Being followed- being prey to danger. Being shacked up with a man too sexy for his own good. Kissing said man and having him reject me- the worst feeling in the world by the way- and then this, my parents missing and being unable to contact them. What if they're really not ok? How would I know? What if they've been targeted by the stalker instead of me?

What if Troy bringing me here is some big ruse in an intricate plot to kidnap me- or worse?

I look at him suspiciously, stepping further away from his strong body. I swallow, not sure what to ask, what to say.

"What's wrong?" He senses it right away- my mistrust.

"Why did you bring me here?" I find the words.

"Because your father told me to."

"I haven't spoken to my father since my birthday. That's when you brought me."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'm trying to get hold of him too…"

"Are you?" I arc, breathing hard, stepping back again, warily.

"Gabi, you can trust me. We've been through this…"

"No, we haven't." I argue. "I did trust you- I was sure of it. But maybe my feelings were fogging my brain…"

"Feelings?" His tongue strokes over his lower lip and I blush, at both the picture my mind conjures of that tongue, flicking into my mouth and as I recall my actions from last night.

"You know? The ones that made me kiss you?" I stare at him widely, not believing he is feigning ignorance.

He pauses, flicks his long lashes down, then up as he sighs out, ready to say more.

"I swear on my life I will not let anything happen to you."

It's a bold statement. Is it a cover? How am I even meant to know? I trust whoever my dad hires for the job- Troy, James. And James was dirty. Or was he, I wonder? Or was Troy just saying that to get me away?

No, something beating in my heart tells me Troy is the one to trust, but I can't help my confused thoughts anyway.

"That's not something I can test." I broach, stepping back as he steps forward and his face breaks with regret.

"I'm sorry if you feel that you can't trust me. I always had your safety as my priority."

"I don't doubt that," I agree. "I just haven't worked out whose side you're on," I add.

"Yours." He assures, meeting my eyes.

"Everything is so crazy right now; I just don't know where to turn…" I explain, beginning to regret my doubts.

He steps forward again, waiting to see if I run, but I stay put, waiting for him to come before me where he cups my face with his hands and looks directly into my eyes, his mouth a thin line until he releases his fleshy lips from their tight hold.

"I know I hurt you last night and I'm sorry for that. It was never my intention," he repeats his words from earlier, trapping me with his soulful eyes as his mouth moves. "If it was another time- another place- any other scenario than me being your protection, then I would have kissed you back." He reveals, making me gasp as my eyes widen in shock, but he carries on, regardless.

"If you doubt me, it's because you can probably tell I'm fighting myself not to kiss you and believe me, it's confusing the hell out of me, too," he smirks. "But know this, I will protect you. And I won't let my feelings compromise that promise."

He wanted to kiss me?

"I really wish you could speak to your father so that you know you're with the right guy," he sighed. "I want you to be in no doubt about that- if the need ever comes."

"You think I might flip for the other side?" I smile timidly.

He blinks, brushing his thumbs over my cheeks. "I don't know what the other side might try." He admitted.

"I know I'm with the right guy," I smile at the irony. Oh how I wish I were with him.

"You should get something to eat," he pulls back, his professional mask sliding into place as he wipes a hand over his face.

I should kiss you, more like, I smile to myself as I pass him, knowing that's not a risk I am going to take again anytime soon.