The Bodyguard

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The Bodyguard Page 12

by Pamela DuMond


  I watch him sleep. I long to brush a lock of hair off his forehead, press a kiss to his full lips, but he’s beat from his day in the sun helping the kids surf. I force myself to just leave him alone. I ease out of bed and make my way to the bathroom.

  Jewel-toned tiles line the rectangular shower. The surf crashes in the distance, a hint of salt in the sea air. There are jets on two walls and I turn them all on and step into the spray and soap up.

  “Did you forget me?” Max is standing in the doorway, hands on the frame, showing off that beautiful body of his. I bite my lip and avert my eyes.

  “That would be kind of hard wouldn’t it —”

  “I can’t help it, Bonita.” He glances down and grins. “That’s your fault. You do that to me.”

  I swallow a smile. “Considering you’re standing there all gloriously naked with – you know – everything beautiful on display.”

  “I’m not the only one gloriously naked.” He pulls me into his arms and kisses me.

  “What are you going to do about it?” I ask, wanting him inside me again, wanting him to fill me, fuck me.

  “What aren’t we going to do?” he says, and slides a hand down my chest, down my stomach, through neatly groomed curls, making his way to my center.

  “I can’t wait to find out.”

  The next day we sit in the Jeep in a long line of cars at the Mexican-American border.

  My phone buzzes. I pluck it from my purse and check. I’ve gotten a text from Mom.

  Mom: Don’t panic. Nana’s in the hospital. I think it’s under control. Call me.

  I finally score spotty cell reception and get through to my mom.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Nana’s coughs turned into bronchitis, which landed her in the hospital. The doctors ran a cardiac workup. She had atrial fibrillation: erratic or extra signals were going to her heart, making it beat faster.”

  “Not good,” I say.

  “Her fibrillation could go into blood clots or heart failure,” Mom said. “So, the doctors stopped her heart and re-started it.”

  “Crap.” One of my hands flies to my chest. “I’ll get on a plane,” I say as we inch toward the checkpoint.

  “No. The worst is over. They gave her antibiotics, an inhaler, and they’re keeping her at the hospital for one night. They’re going to discharge her tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. She didn’t even want me to tell you. She wants you to finish summer school and whatever the secret project you’re working on, that she’s all furry fempt about,” Mom says.

  “You mean ‘ver klempt’,” I say.

  “Yes. I love you, sweetie,” she says. “I miss you. We’ll weather this storm, and see each other soon.”

  I hung up and email Dr. Keim confirming my Vision Quest the next night because, screw it, I’m going. I might have found my own healing, but I haven’t tracked it down yet for my grandmother.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I sit on my living room floor across from Max. I borrowed a hiker’s backpack from him and it lies on the ground between us as Napoleon plays with its straps and cords: biting one, then pouncing on another. A pile of items lays on the rug next to the backpack.

  “I don’t understand why taking a Vision Quest is going to help your Nana with atrial fib,” Max says.

  “It isn’t just her heart problem,” I say. “It’s because she’s had MS for thirty years. MS eats away at a person over time. It can take away your ability to function and move and walk.”

  “I’m sorry she’s going through this,” He squeezes my shoulder.

  “Me too,” I say. “The longer you’re in a wheelchair, the more susceptible you become to infections. So, every single healer you drove me to was one more person that might be able to help my grandmother.”

  “Got it,” he says.

  “Maybe I can find something to give her relief. Buy her time,” I say. “But what I’m really hoping for? Maybe I can help find her a miracle.”

  “Is this what you wanted to share with me earlier?” He asks. “When we were in Mexico?”

  “It’s one thing.”

  Just not the biggest.

  “There was never a book, was there?” He asks.

  Busted.

  “There was never a book,” I say. “I’m sorry. I really wanted… really needed you to drive me.”

  “It’s cool, Bonita.” He sighs. “I wish your grandmother wasn’t going through this.”

  “Me too.” I say and pick up a paper with instructions and read from it. “Recommended items to bring on your Keim Vision Quest. #1. Drinking water.”

  “Check,” Max says. “Aren’t you glad I made you buy bottled water?”

  “You bought the bottled water. I would have been happy with tap.” I draw a line through the item. “Matches.”

  “Check.” He holds them up. “It’s fire season and it’s a tinderbox up in the mountains. What do you need the matches for?”

  “I don’t know. It’s on the list.” I scratch off another line. “A fully charged flashlight.” I nab a flashlight from the pile and flip it on. “It works.”

  “Give it to me,” he says. “I’ll put new batteries in it.”

  I shine it on his face.

  He blinks and squints. “I asked you to hand it to me, not blind me.”

  “You are my prisoner,” I say in a cheesy accent. “Kiss me immediately, prisoner, or -- you…”

  He leans over and kisses me. His lips are soft. He runs a muscular hand through my hair and tugs on it. He taps a finger on my nose and smiles. “You’re a weirdo.”

  “I know.” I pull away and smile at him. I glance down at the list. “Mouthwash? Why is mouthwash on the list? What do I need—”

  He kisses me again. His hands cradle the sides of my face, he pulls me toward him as he kneels on the floor, leans over the pile of survival items. His tongue traces my upper lip.

  I close my eyes and sigh.

  He nibbles on my lower lip and slides his tongue inside my mouth. He explores. Inviting. Tempting. My breath catches.

  And then he stops. “I don’t want you to go on this Quest.”

  “I know. Stop being a tease.”

  “I’m a tease?” He slides my shirt down my shoulder, palms my breast. “Skip the Quest. Stay here with me. I’ll tease you all night.” His mouth drops to my breast. He licks. He kisses. He pulls my nipple into his mouth and sucks on it. Biting. Sucking. And I am sorely tempted to stay here. But….

  “Max,” I say and shake my head. “We don’t have time for this. I have to go.”

  “But you don’t. I don’t want you to go. It doesn’t feel safe.”

  “I would prefer to stay here with you,” I say. “I’d prefer to lie next to you on a carpet of grass while we eat magical guacamole and chips, as planes take off over our heads. But I can’t do that right now Because my grandmother’s in the hospital with something that might make her heart explode. So you don’t get a vote on this one. I’m doing the Quest.”

  “Okay.” he says.

  My own heart’s pounding. I force myself to survey the pile of survival gear. “Sturdy athletic shoes,” I say.

  “Check.” Max reaches to add them in the backpack.

  “Thanks.” I hold out my hand. “I’ll wear them.”

  “I’m going with you on this Quest,” he says.

  “No, you’re not.” I shake my head. “You can drive me to their lodge. After that -- I have to do this with other Questers. No outsiders allowed. Besides, Dr. Keim personally offered to drive me.”

  “Dr. McKreipy? You think that I’m going to let you get in a car with bad Santa who looks like he’s enjoyed too many feel-good drugs over the years? Hell no.”

  “Hello? I’m an adult. I call my own shots.”

  Napoleon climbs up Max’s leg with spidey claws. Max winces and gently wrestles my kitten with one muscular hand. “Did you charge your phone? The reception in the mountains is hit o
r miss.”

  I drag it from my purse and plug it into a wall socket.

  He nods. “Did you pack warm socks?”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Where’s the lodge where I’m driving you to?”

  “Somewhere up the mountain.”

  “An address would be helpful, Maia.”

  I pick up the list and wave it at him. “Check where it says, ‘Location.’”

  He snatches the paper from me and inhales sharply, his face paling.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I know exactly where this place is.”

  “Good.”

  “Right down the road from where I drove three people over a cliff and killed a girl.”

  My heart sinks. “You don’t have to drive me.”

  “But, I do.”

  After all the packing and the discussions and the arguments, we start kissing again and somehow find our way into my bedroom. We rip off each others’ clothes. I lie on my back with my legs squeezed over his shoulders, my knees next to his ears. He buries himself inside me, thrusts into me, his hazel eyes lit with desire.

  I take his hand and kiss the palm. I suck on his fingers.

  “Bonita.” He leans down and kisses me, cradling one hand to my face, the other firm on my shoulder. “I’m crazy about you.”

  He kisses me again, palming one breast, toying with the nipple. I moan with pleasure. He leans back and finds my clit with his thumb. He draws circles around it, brushing his thumb back and forth over my sex until I am writhing under him.

  “Max.”

  He brushes his fingers against that spot, and my pelvis arches under him. “Max, I am coming. I am….” until an orgasm blows through me like a little earthquake and I can’t even think about leaving right now. I can’t think about anything other than this beautiful man.

  “Good?”

  “The best,” I say, my heart racing. “More.”

  He kisses me, penetrating me harder and faster and time spins away. I don’t even remember what life was like before we did this. Before I was with him.

  And five minutes he comes, tilts his head back, closes his beautiful eyes, and moans, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he shudders inside me. “Oh man,” he says resting on top of me, holding me.

  We catch our breath and I run my hands over the muscles in his shoulder.

  He traces my neck and chest with his fingers. “Seriously, I get a bad feeling about this Quest. I don’t want you to go.”

  I know,” I say, and kiss him. “But I have to.”

  I love when he cradles me in his arms.

  It feel like Max and I met because of an accident that night at the Grill. Now, here we are a few months later falling for each other. Nana always says there are no accidents in life. It’s past time to be honest with him. “Hey, remember in Rosarito when we talked about sharing secrets?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need to share something with you.”

  “Tell me,” he says, smoothing my hair back with one muscular hand.

  I sigh and snuggle closer to him. “I’m not just here for summer school. There’s something else.” What if once he hears I have MS, it sickens him? What if he leaves? What will I do without him? “My nana’s not the only one with health issues. Turns out—”

  His cell phone blasts “Gimme Shelter.” He reaches for it on the nightstand. “I am not doing this tonight,” he says. “Whoever it is can call another Driver, a ride share, or sleep it off next to a sack of potatoes…” He clicks the screen. “Dammit.”

  He jumps out of bed “Nick? What…?” Max yanks his clothes on and strides out of my room.

  I glance at the clock. I too need to rock and roll or I’ll be late. I pull clothes on.

  Max paces in the living room. “What do you mean, you can’t?” “We already talked about this. Yes, I know he’s been clean for a while. How come tonight of all nights you can’t?”

  “It’s fine,” I whisper. “I can get a ride.” I grab my phone and dial.

  Max holds a finger in the air. “Hang on.”

  “Hi, Beth,” I say into my phone. “It’s Maia Priebe. I met you at the Keim Vision Quest gathering at the hotel.” I listen. “Yes, I’m taking my first Quest tonight. Sorry, this is totally last minute but Dr. Keim told me I could call you if I needed a ride.”

  “Sure,” she says. “Where should I pick you up?”

  “The Grill,” Max says. “I’ll drop you there.”

  I give her the information. “Thank you,” I say and click off.

  “He used to be troubled. Now he’s just an ass,” Max says into the phone. “I’m on my way.” He hangs up. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You do important things. You help people. That’s reality. I’d rather deal in reality than fantasy.”

  “After tonight, I’m redefining my reality.”

  Max parks in the No-Parking zone next to the Grill, the engine idling. He leans in, put his hands my face, and kisses me.

  I pull away. “I’ve got to go.”

  “I’m getting this thing done with Jackson, then I’ll drive up to the lodge.”

  “Sounds good.” I get out and adjust my backpack.

  He stares at me, regret and fear playing across his beautiful face.

  “Maia?” a woman hollers. Beth waves through the open window of an older Toyota hatchback double-parked a quarter block away.

  I wave back. “Yes.”

  She pops her head back in her car. “Let’s go. We’ve got to get to the lodge on time.”

  I gaze at Max. “See you.”

  But neither of us move.

  “Maia,” Beth yells out the window edges into traffic and drives in my direction.

  “Coming.”

  “I should be there for you,” he says.

  “You’re helping your friend. I’ll see you after.”

  “Fine,” he says. “One more thing.”

  Beth’s car crawls toward me through traffic. “What?”

  “I love you. I think I’ve loved you since the holy guacamole when we watched the airplanes take off. I knew I loved you in Mexico. But I need to make it official. So, right now, I’d like to call this official. ’K?”

  “’K.” I blink back tears and wipe the back of my hand across eyes.

  Beth’s horn blares and I jump.

  “I’ll see you in a bit,” he says. “Be careful.”

  Beth drives us out of local traffic. We travel miles down a few highways, exiting on a narrow road leading into the heart of the Santa Monica Mountains. The roads are curvy, narrow and dark. The lights from houses in the Valley blink far below. It’s like we’re on top of L.A. looking down.

  Beth prattles on about this being her third Quest. She’s plopped down six hundred bucks because she’s crushing on one of Dr. Keim’s guides who’ll be assisting the Questers tonight.

  We pull into the lodge’s parking lot filled with a variety of cars and SUVS. “KEIM VISION QUEST” is painted in block letters on the exterior of a three-story, concrete building. A steroid-y guard stands by the front door. Another meathead occupies the driver’s seat of Dr. Keim’s SUV. He drives off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

  People are already piling into vans and trucks. Beth throws her car in park and yanks the keys from the ignition. “Let’s go.”

  We grab our backpacks and walk toward the trucks. A greeter offers me a hand. I take it and he hoists me up. “Name?”

  “Maia Priebe.”

  “Maia Priebe? Dr. Keim’s been looking for you.” He messages on his phone. Then hands me a tablet. “Read and sign the paperwork.”

  “What is this?” I ask.

  “Standard wavier. You can’t get into anything without a waiver these days.”

  Twenty of us sit in a circle on a remote piece of dirt with patches of dried grass. It’s chilly and dark. A couple of lanterns positioned around our gathering barely light the place. Dr. Keim stands in the middle like a modern prophet hold
ing court. “Everyone will have a human guide who stays with them during their Keim Vision Quest,” he says.

  A man sitting across from me pulls out a sage stick from his pocket. He lights it, fanning smoke into our circle. One of the guides practically tackles him. Dr. Keim beckons to him and takes the stick. “What are you doing?” He jams the lit end into the ground, twisting it until the embers darken.

  “It’s sage. The Native American way to cleanse the energy,” the man says.

  “I know what sage is and we don’t use it on my Quest,” Dr. Keim says. “This is my program. Follow my rules and everything will be fine.” He paces within the circle. “You’ll see things you’ve never seen before. Experience profound openings. Maybe even meet your spiritual guardians or your totem power animals. Your human guide will keep you safe in the rare instance that you have issues.” He points to a handful of young people wearing Keim Vision Quest T-shirts. “Feel free to ask them questions.”

  A Keim assistant passes out paper cups. The liquid in them is brown and smells funky. For a moment I wish Max was close by at the lodge, instead of picking up Jackson who-knows-where.

  “Good luck, everyone,” Dr. Keim says. “I can’t wait for you to experience the mind-blowing bliss of the Quest. To life. Bottoms up.”

  “To life,” we collectively say and raise our cups.

  I knock the concoction back. It tastes bitter but it’s not horrible. I sit still for a minute wondering what’s going to happen next. But nothing happens next. I feel fine. My heart pounds normally in my chest. My stomach feels normal. This Quest experience is going to be easy. Maybe I’ll learn something to help my grandmother. I don’t think I have anything to worry about.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I kneel on the dirt and vomit into scrub brush that weaves back and forth in front of me. “I don’t understand.” I retch again. “I’m sick. Am I supposed to be sick? Is everyone sick?” I push hair back from my sweaty forehead and prop myself up with one hand.

 

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