Page 59 of Spark
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that by the time I’m done with you, my enemies will not even bother marking you as a target because you will not be worth the bloodshed that you would deliver should you ever be trifled with.”
A dark look came over Darren’s eyes as he grinned with satisfaction of his plan, and I felt my stomach drop. He was going to make me like him, and I was too busy trying to figure out if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
A few minutes later, I could see the black and gold gates to Darren’s estate open for our entry. Trepidation swept over me as we pulled up to the house. More men waited outside for us, only this time, most of them carried assault rifles openly.
Darren opened the door and helped me out of the car. My eyes traveled among the men waiting for us, and I saw Scott heading them up at the front of the line. But Darren had his sights set on two super tall men who stood off to the side. His hand on my shoulder, he led me over to them, and I wondered if maybe they were my new babysitters.
“Sir,” they both said with a nod.
Darren smiled. “Jaden, this is Clive and Owen,” he said, pointing at each one. “They are your new bodyguards.”
I looked up at him. “Clive and Owen. Seriously?” I nearly laughed. They were officially one name to me now.
“Absolutely. They are among my best men and have been trained to anticipate any little line of bullshit you might try to feed them to gain an advantage.”
“Sounds like a challenge to me.” I smirked, crossing my arms over his chest.
“You would see it that way. But the only thing I see is an invitation to getting your ass beat by me should you test them. Should you get out of hand, they will tranquilize you immediately, and I will deal with you when you wake. I suggest avoiding that as best you can.”
“Noted,” I replied with a nod as I studied them.
I didn’t want to stare for too long, but the one named Clive had short buzzed black brown hair, zero scruff, and looked to be just a tad younger than Darren was. The other one, Owen, seemed even younger, late twenties with blond hair, slightly longer than Clive’s. They both wore the same outfit as the guards on the tarmac, but the sunglasses they wore seemed a little different in shape—more angular and the color was different, certainly not standard.
I was beginning to see a pattern in the uniform of his men. It seemed the ones who guarded the house wore more combat gear, as if they were ready for an assault at any time, while the men who accompanied him, my guards included, wore less combative but more athletic. Normally, in the movies in organized crime, everyone wore suits but not Darren’s men. They seemed to wear clothing more fit for their stations. It made sense. If I wanted guards protecting me, I wouldn’t want them fighting in the restrictions of a suit either.
“She is to stay in her room for the remainder of the day,” Darren suddenly said to them.
And just like that, I went right back to being treated like a child. I couldn’t help but huff in disappointment.
Darren turned to me and bent down to kiss me on the cheek. “Behave,” he warned in my ear and walked away to address Scott and several others.
Stupid fucker.
“This way, please, Miss Jaden,” Clive said and immediately escorted me back to the house. A shadow of pain crossed me as I entered the house, the one I tried to run from so many months ago, and now, I was back, being nearly pushed up the stairs to my old prison cell.
Owen opened the door for me, and I reluctantly walked inside.
“We’ll be just outside the door,” Owen said, but it was meant as more of a warning. “There are men patrolling your windows, so don’t get any ideas. Your dinner will be brought to you shortly. Knock if you need anything.” He then closed the door and locked it, actually leaving me alone in my cell.
Exhaling deeply, I turned to examine my old room, finding it looked the same. Everything was in its place, exactly as it had been left. Padding over to the bathroom, I looked below the window I had tossed my Molotov cocktail out of and noticed the damage fixed. But after seeing the guard with an assault rifle and a German shepherd come into view, I immediately ducked back inside. I didn’t want them thinking I had ideas. Opening the cabinets, I found a lot of shit missing. There was no more alcohol, nail polish remover, bath oils, matches, or even candles, for that matter. All my sharp little tools like my cuticle cutters, metal nail file, nail scissors, even my rat-tail comb was removed. Obviously, someone was a little paranoid and a little overcautious. He had my damn family on the table. I wasn’t going to jeopardize that by attempting to stab him with a nail file.
Shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all, I took a long hot shower, hoping to smooth out some of the kinks that had worked themselves into my shoulders. When I was done, I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped out into my bedroom only to jump back to see Clive Owen standing by my table. They both immediately turned their eyes in another direction.
“What are you doing?” I asked them, clutching my towel even tighter.
“We’ve been instructed not to leave until you’ve finished your dinner,” Clive said.
I rolled my eyes. “Do you mind if I get dressed first, or do I have to eat right this second?”
“Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Jaden,” Clive answered.
Yeah, okay…
Shaking my head, I walked into closest to find the exact same clothes as before. Now that it was November, it wasn’t exactly as warm as it usually was, so I opted for a longer purple striped sundress. I quickly brushed my wet hair out and then made my way over to the table and sat down. Dinner was roasted chicken with rosemary potatoes and mixed steamed vegetables. I managed to eat most of it, though it was difficult to do with Clive Owen watching me the entire time. With only a few bites of potatoes left, I was beyond full, hoping they would concede to that before pushing my plate away. Owen shook his head.
“All of it, ma’am,” he said.