Chapter 7:

I sit across from Murrin in his huge car this time. I can tell he's watching me. I just stare out the window the entire time. I got nothing to say and I don't want him to say anything. Hopefully, Lady Barbara doesn't tell him anything. She shouldn't. I was hired as his bodyguard. I was not hired to be his fiancé.

"Did you two have an argument?" Murrin tries.

"No." I respond. Murrin frowns and takes my hand out of nowhere. I instinctively pull away as horrible memories flash through my mind.

"You sure you're cut out for this." I shake him off.

"I am. But grabbing me outta nowhere isn't going to help." I turn to completely face him. "Grabbing anyone out of nowhere isn't a good idea."

"Right. Well now that you're completely facing me..." Murrin takes my hand and slips a small silver ring with a few speckled diamond on it. It's beautiful and appears fancier than what it's actually worth.

"What's this?" I say, examining it.

"What do you think? We have to act it out without error." I lean back in amusement.

"Well, you already made your first mistake. Where's the promise ring?" Murrin eyes widen. At loss of words, he shrugs. With a sigh, I take out a small golden band and place it on my right ring finger.

"Where did you get that?"

"I was engaged not too long ago. He cheated and dumped me. He left the ring as a way to taunt me. So, I use it for work." It wasn't a real engagement. It was a mission. Enter the family through whatever means necessary and eliminate everyone involved with the plague that was showing face back in 2008.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense to do." Murrin says.

"To him, it meant everything. It was all work to me." It took a while for me to wrap my mind around the experiences of that mission. Damn it, old hag. You really love messing with people's heads.

"So, you never dated. No kissing, loving, sex?" I look out the window.

"There was never any love with anyone or anything. No real kissing. And definitely no consented sex." I spit the last words in disgust as more memories assault me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I open my eyes and turn to look at Murrin again.

"No infatuation. The less you feel, that faster it flies." Murrin nods, watching me quietly.

"You know how to dance." No.

"Yeah. Why?" Murrin scratches the back of his neck.

"You'll be doing a lot of that. Try not to break anything. Some of the dances are pretty quick." Shit.

"Knowing to dance and knowing the dances are two different things." Murrin sits up.

"That's true. I'll visit you every night to get the dances down. For now, keep in mind that my mother only wants to see graceful you are."

"Got it. You're mother seems pretty old. Was she friends with King Henry VIII mother?"

"No. And don't make comments like that again."

"Sure thing, Mama's boy."

"Alina, I'm not kidding. Another thing, you need to be comfortable with seeing my face." Before I can say anything, Murrin takes off his mask. My heat beat quickens at the sight. His nose, lips and part of his cheeks are missing, revealing the bone and teeth underneath. Those scars I saw earlier were just a taste of how Murrin really looks like.

I guess my reaction and silence makes him rethink his decision. He tries to put his mask on, but I stop him. I take the mask from his hand and place it on the seat beside me. I slowly place my fingers on his face. What happened? How did he even survive?

"What happened?" I mutter.

"Military service. A grenade. My face was the cost for my stupid behavior back then. Nineteen and already lost any hope of a normal life. My mother thought I was a ghost when she finally saw my face. Nearly gave her an early death. Before my father died two years ago, he gave me seven masks."

"What about the doctors? Couldn't they do something?" Murrin shakes his head.

"X-rays say I'm stuck like this." I tilt his head, examining him closely.

"Well, there goes kissing you." I joke an hand back his mask. He laughs.

"I won't force you to do anything you don't want to." I nod.

"Well, since you shared that with me. I might as well tell you something about me."

"No! You don't have—" I stop him with a motion of my hand.

"My father left before I was born and died about two years ago. My mother's mental health went down the moment she gave birth to me. Postpartum depression is no joke. The lady recent killed, Tisha, took care of me a lot. Especially, when my mother was sent to a mental hospital for help. Tisha knew that I lacked the teachings a parent gives to their children. She enrolled me with multiple teachers. I joined the military after highschool and scored a job as Tisha's bodyguard.

"My mother came home loaded with medication when I was three. Tisha already had custody over me at that point. But she wanted my mother to bond with me. Which...it started the terrors I see everyday. I'm not telling you who, but I was raped six different times spanning from the age of five to nineteen."

Murrin stares at me. Is he disgusted? Is he going to change his mind? Am I going to get thrown out on the street? WHAT IS HE THINKING?

"Who?" Is all he asks. I shake my head and scoff.

"That's for me to deal with. I told you about myself so you can warp it into whatever fits your mother's fantasy."

"How do expect me to warp it if you don't tell me?"

"Bullshit! You're not getting that information!"

"Why? Have you even gone to therapy? You've been hurt multiple times and let them get away with it!"

"Only two are left! They're nowhere near close to us! The rest are dead!" Murrin stays quiet. "First night and your were nearly the seventh. Don't get all high and mighty with me now, asshole."

"Fine. Got it. You're an insufferable woman. I should've just hired some whore to do the job."

"Plus side, you'd get in her pants while you're at, huh?" I hiss back.

"I'm not an animal, bitch!"

"You act like one, you faceless manwhore!"

"I could easily kill you right now!" I laugh and pounce on him, taking out a knife. I press it against his neck.

"I'd like to see you try. You wouldn't be the first." Murrin grabs my throat, loosening the grip when I press the knife harder against his neck.

"Get off me." He says through gritting teeth. I smirk and sit back in my seat. I put the knife back in place and watch as Murrin fixes himself. He keeps his hand on his crotch area. Pig.

If at the face of death, he'll want to fuck the bitch. Kinky motherfucker. The two of us don't speak anymore through the rest of the ride.