The Bodyguard - Chapter 12

[teamzaylor]

Title: THE BODYGUARD
Chapter: 12
Rating: Nc-17
POV: Blade (Zac)
Authors Notes: This is the last new Chapter for probably the next weeks, but we will try to update as soon as possible again. Thank you everyone who reads and comments :)


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Blade:

I took the last sip of my sugar fix before I bent forward a bit to speak directly in his direction.

"Let me make this very clear, Taylor. I'm not here because of you or your pathetic being. The only reason I'm here is, I owe somebody a favor. This is nothing more to me than another fucking mundane job. And that is what I'm doing here, got it?!"

He didn't even seem to be surprised about my words this time; hopefully he finally got it. No matter how pathetic he was in his current condition, I hated him too much for what he had done to me, that I couldn't even feel a ray of pity for him.

"I will try to cooperate with you Blade, just please let me know about any unusual incidents about my stalker please, okay?"

"I'm not here to follow anyone's rules Taylor. As your bodyguard I'll let you know about unusual happenings when I consider it as necessary. Your sissy boy manager said you're a teamplayer. Now it's up to you to show your teamplayer skills, coz I'm here to die for your life. Anything unclear?"

"No Blade. I know that you're mad at me... I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you for coming back anyway..." He tried again. If he really thought that a brotherly bond still existed between us, he was even more naive than he looked.

"I'm here as your bodyguard Taylor, not for a family reunion. That means you have to follow my orders. If you're unable to accept my rules, you better say it now before I waste even more time than I already have!"

"Yeah Blade... I understand. I would really like to reconcile with you." He said but I couldn't believe him one single word. He couldn't even look into my eyes as he said that. I didn't need to deal with this pathetic, hypocritical shit any longer! So I quickly put an end to his pity ploy.

"You should go to bed Taylor. It's late and you had a rough day." I motioned him disparagingly to go upstairs.

He silently sat there for a while, his blond hair strains were messy, his eyes tired. I wagered he was daydreaming or some shit like that.



Finally, he stood up and walked to the stairway. A tear dropped down from his eye when he looked down to the chalk drawing next to him on the floor. Those lazy cops didn't even wash away the entire pool of blood from the floor. He sniffed, wiped his cheek with his sleeve and walked upstairs without another word. I could hear him closing a door and let out a heavy sigh.

I had no idea how bad his current condition was, but that wasn't my fucking problem anyway. He had enough money to afford the the world’s best health gurus and headshrinkers. I was responsible for his life, not his health situation!

I stood up and walked over to his cabinet. Hopefully I would at least find an X-box and some good video games in his entertainment center as a pastime. I got disappointed though, all I found was a luxury collection of several camera equipments and it bored the fuck out of me.



Did he have nothing more in his head than to catch his stupid face from every perspective?!? I groaned and closed the cabinet doors again.

Giving up, I also walked upstairs back to my room. I checked the windows first, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary except the broken cameras. There were no noises coming from the rooms and the entire house was pitch black. The darkness didn't scare me though; I even loved the atmosphere which darkness provided. I had always been a great fan of Horror movies and video games and walking around in a dark house always reminded me of the horror video games I used to play. I kind of felt like a cool hunter in Resident Evil, Left 4 Dead and other Ego Shooters. I was almost waiting for Zombie's to jump out of the dark corners!

The savage beast spots his unsuspecting victim...
Slowly he sneaks through the dark hallway
Moving in for the ambush...
FIRE AT WILL!



I smirked, I would shoot them in the head, leave them full of bullets and Game over for those stinky creatures! Zombies were surely better opponents than that psycho Twinky Winky weirdo. I think that Twink Twink was probably some random sick groupie who just wanted to get laid. If that was her only problem, then I would go and fuck her so that she could stop messing around and then my damn job here would be done.

I walked back to my old room and sat down on my bed. Apparently, Taylor wanted me to spend the night here as if nothing ever happened. The thought of it brought the anger back and I clenched my fists. I felt like I couldn't breathe anymore and that the walls would crush me to death.

Like hell I will!

But what the fuck could I do?

Everything around me screamed out the past to me. Dealing with emotions has never been easy for me. I stood up and opened the window, took a deep breath of the cool air and looked down in the garden. I used my skilled eyes to scan the view from above and could recognize our old tree house even in the darkness. For me it wasn't just a garden, it was also a place with lots of hiding places. Safety hazards were almost everywhere in and outside the house.

When I turned back around to my room and saw my old Teenager stuff, I made a snap decision to not bear the view any longer.

Within seconds, I walked over to the rack; reached out, grabbed as much of my old belongings I could carry and threw them out of the window. Over and over again I threw out items that belonged to me such as CD’s, DVD’s, Video Games, Drawings, and even clothes...

Everything I could find.

All these things flew down in a wide arc on the grass in the garden and a pile from my past slowly built up below the window. I ripped the old posters off from the walls and crumbled them hatefully up before they followed the rest of my old belongings downward.

I had no fucking clue if the faggots were already sleeping or if the noise I made woke them again. But nothing and no one would bring me back to the past I swore to myself!

Drops of sweat built up on my forehead and palms. A disgusting feature of a disgusting person.

When I was finished, the room looked empty. All that was left was the bed, a four drawer dresser and a table which didn't fit through the window frames.

I left the room and walked downstairs again. I still remembered every corner of the house, so I didn't need light to find the back door which leads to the garden.

Good thing, the faggots had left their cigarettes and lighters on the living room table, I grabbed one of their lighters and headed outside.

I walked in the garden to the pile from my past. The boy with these belonging had long since died. I bent down and picked up a picture of Taylor and me when we were teenagers. The happiness in our faces just made me want to throw up.

There was no fucking reason to keep anything of this stuff any longer. I lit up a corner of the photo and threw it down on the pile.



It became inflamed immediately and shortly afterwards; I was standing in front of a blazing fire.

I smiled frostily while watching the flames how they quickly destroyed the remains from my past into nothing. Silently, I stood there for a long while until the fire was completely burned down to the ground.

Satisfied, I made my way back to the house.

When I reached the back door, a presentiment of danger rushed over me. I immediately knew that something wasn't right. I couldn't see what was wrong, but the place seemed to be invaded by someone else. I knew the feeling too well to not recognize it. While I was in the army, my instinct always helped me on finding my opponents, my instinct saved me several times and didn't fail me...

Fuck my past for breaking into my senses again!

The back door to the garden was only a few yards away from where I stood so I left it open. It was still open but somehow, it felt different.

As I moved closer, I suddenly saw some dirty footprints on the ground which weren't there before.
The moonshine was the only light which made them visible on the floor. My eyebrows furrowed, it was a foot print of a guy for sure, and there was no mistake about that. I needed to be prepared for a fight.

Good thing I still wore my .45 caliber. Quickly, I pulled it out of my pocket and was on high alert.

Everything was quiet and I didn't know how someone managed to get in the house behind me. Actually, I should have seen him... it was almost impossible that I didn't notice him...!  But I still felt a little high from drugs, tonight wasn't the right time to start my job seriously. I wasn't used to working while on a cocaine high which clouded my senses. If only I noticed that shit coming inside, my job would be over soon. Damn, damn, damn!

But now was not the time to contemplate possible contingencies. A strange feeling overtook me while I walked inside the house. Being as quiet as possible I knew I had to be on guard...



I had to be prepared for any possibilities!

As quietly as possible, I unlocked the trigger of my gun, ready to give it a good squeeze to whatever might come at me.

Suddenly I saw something. The pool of blood on the floor in the chalk drawing was almost completely washed away...only a small smeared stain was left. Somebody must have used it for something... Somebody uninvited!

Carefully, I followed the dirty footprints to the end and then I saw it. Big smeared letters written in blood where the footprints ended



Apparently, the high society snob didn't lie.

In an instant, I ran over to the light switch and turned the lights on. No one was there. I checked the other rooms of the ground floor, but I couldn't see anything noticeable there either.

As I looked down on the footprints more closely, I noticed that they did lead back to the garden.



If the fucking weirdo was still outside, it wouldn't make any sense to search for him right now. It was still too dark and he might be anywhere by now.

Annoyed that I missed a chance to end this fucking job, I locked the door and went to the big wall closet. The only way to be halfway safe for the rest of the night without an alarm system.

Roughly, I pushed my body weight against the closet and shoved it in front of the back door until it was completely barricaded. Afterwards, I walked to the front door and did the same with another piece of furniture.

I looked around; there were a lot of things to do in the house. Evidently, my androgynous brother still had no conception of technique. Tomorrow, I'd make sure to fix things, so that I could get my ass the fuck out of here as soon as possible. Eventually, I hurried upstairs to check the rooms of the sleeping faggots.

Skye was sleeping deeply and the last thing I wanted was to wake up that gay, non-fucking-stop talking nightmare.

I went over to Taylor's room. No one was there except a few instruments. But then it came to my mind that he surely used our parents bedroom with his wife. The image of him and his bitch fucking in our old parent's bedroom made him even more fucked up than me. And I thought I had issues...

Shrugging that brotherly shit off me, I opened the door to their bedroom, finding Sleeping Beauty lying on a bed in the darkness. I couldn't really tell if he was awake or not.

"Hello?" A fearful voice came from the bed. Taylor has always been very good at acting innocent.

"It's me." I answered, turned the light on and quickly looked around in every corner.

He groaned about the sudden glare of light and covered his hands over his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to check and see if you’re still alive or if you were already dangling from the ceiling."

Back then, there was a time when he laughed about my jokes but it seemed that he had lost his mood to give any answer.

"Maybe I should..." was everything he absently answered.

I didn't expect his entire resignedness. I've seen the look in his eyes before. I knew it all too well....

Wrong answer Taylor, wrong answer.



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