Page 4 of Carte

Even the English language stopped making any sense.

“A what?” I asked through stiff lips, positive that I suddenly stopped comprehending the simple words.

Oh, my God! Was I having a stroke?

“You’re getting a bodyguard,” Tim repeated slowly, his eyes looking deeply into mine.

Then it hit. A hot wave descended from the top of my head and swept through my whole body right to the tips of my toes.

Before I had a chance to say even a single syllable, Tim said my name again.

“Stop repeating my name. I know my name. Hell, half the world knows my name, Tim!” I yelled and took a step back.

“Honey,” Tim warned, his voice now low, soothing. The only effect it had on me was to make it worse.

My heart started beating a mile a minute. Half a minute ago I couldn’t get any oxygen into my lungs, now there was too much of it. I was choking on the damned air. My vision blurred and my skin itched.

Damnit!

I hadn't felt this way since the last time my father stood above me.

Fuck! Don’t go there, Harley.

Taking a deep breath, I squeezed my eyes shut, and shook my head. I had to focus.

One… Two… Three…

With the skill born out of practice, as I came to the number three, I relaxed, and was able to focus. Opening my eyes, I could see Tim watching me like a hawk. There was worry in his , and the deep lines surrounding his mouth stood in stark relief.

“No,” I said once my heartbeat slowed down, and my ears stopped ringing. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t—”

Tim’s jaw tightened; regret filled his expression. “I’m sorry, honey, but you have no choice.”

“Yes, I do,” I said inflexibly. “Remember, Tim, I don’t do babysitters. I don’t do leashes. And I especially don’t do some guy breathing down my neck, tracking my every move, and becoming my shadow, just because everyone suddenly remembered I exist. I live my life as normal as I can. I come, I sing and play, sometimes I talk to the press, and then I retreat into my own little normal world. You know this, Tim. I’m no one's puppet.”

Tim worked his jaw back and forth. “It’s not sudden. Everyone’s known you exist for a while now, Harley. It’s for your safety.”

“It’s control,” I yelled.

My chest was coming up and down rapidly. My breath was heavy, and my hands were stiff by my sides, my hands curled into fists.

After a second, Tim murmured, “It’s safety.”

His soft spoken words brought tears to my eyes. I hadn't had someone look out for my safety in my entire life. Since I could remember, I was the one who was in charge of me. I closed my eyes and shook my head once again to expel the thoughts of my past trying to intrude my brain.

I opened my eyes, and looked into Tim’s concerned ones. I wasn’t stupid. I could see something was troubling him, but I wasn’t going to budge.

“Tim, no.” I was now shaking, but my voice was strong.

Safety. What a joke. That word was dangled over me my whole life. Over and over people would use that particular word to get me in line. To do as they wanted me to. To have control over me.

But no one would get that chance ever again.

“Babe,” Tim murmured softly, soothingly. He knew my past. He knew why I was pushing so hard against this. Hell, he knew everything. “You have to. I’m sorry, Harley, but you have no choice.”

“Fuck.” I looked around, tears pooling at the bottom of my eyes. I concentrated hard, not wanting to blink and send those traitors on the path of doom down my face.

I couldn’t let anyone see me crying. Even if it was mostly out of anger to be in a situation I couldn’t control yet again. I knew if I let my emotions out for everyone to see, there would be headlines tomorrow labeling me as a diva.