Angela didn't know what happened. Before she could grasp the situation around her, Roger pulled her into his arms, throwing her onto the ground. It knocked the wind from her lungs, Roger's hard body landing so heavily on top of her that it rocked her body with pain. She squeezed her eyes shut on instinct, as the world spun and shouted around her, clinging to the man who shielded her with his body without giving it a second thought.

It seemed to last forever but ended within a matter of seconds. Once the noise died down, and all she could hear was the crackle of a lasting fire, Angela still didn't open her eyes. She felt the tears squeeze past her eyes, knew that her hand was trembling as it clutched Roger's shirt, but she couldn't stop herself.

All of a sudden, she was back to that day one year ago. The day she'd been saved from her kidnappers by the very same person who was protecting her right now, the day she'd watched a helicopter fall to the city below, the day she'd thought that the girl who had risked her life to save her had died.

The memories came rushing back to her all at once and Angela could no longer function.

Roger was shaking her. She realized that after a moment, noticed that her body was jerking. And then his voice filtered in past the haze in her mind and she refocused her eyes on him. 

"Angela? Angela!" He didn't stop shaking her, his eyes worried. Angela only stared at him. She knew she should say something but the sight of him had her losing her words. His hair was frazzled, dirt streaked across his cheek. For the first time ever, he lost that suave demeanor and looked almost frantic. He'd never looked more attractive.

"Damn it, you're going in shock." Before she knew it, he scoopd her into his arms. Angela blinked, forcing herself to pull herself together.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice soft. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "I'm fine. You don't have to carry me."

"After I take you to the hospital, we'll know if that's true."

"Roger, really." She didn't shout, didn't hiss, didn't snap. But her words were firm enough to get him to stop. She looked into his eyes. "I was just shaken by what happened but trust me, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I do not like to repeat myself."

He didn't look convinced, but after a few seconds of them simply staring at each other, he set her on her feet. Angela tested her legs to ensure they were steady enough to walk before she let go of him completely. Then, she faced the wreckage.

It was as bad as she imagined it to be. People were already flocking to the fire that was raging over what had been the car she'd riden in, some already attempting to put it out. Others were approaching them, asking if they were alright. Angela heard none of it. Her eyes were on the man lying by the entrance of the parking lot, face down. The driver. 

He had been caught in the explosion and he clearly hadn't survived.

She'd lied to Roger. She wasn't fine. She didn't think she ever would be.

Bile rising in her throat, she turned away from the sight, holding her hand to her mouth. She tried valiantly to keep herself together, trying to remain the girl she'd always been. Strong, unbending, unfazed by any obstacle thrown her way. But lately, she'd been but a shadow of that girl, and had been desperately trying to get back to that place ever since. 

She hoped Roger wasn't looking at her ass he rushed away to the other side of the road, nearly getting hit by incoming cars, and doubled over vomiting.

Tears sprang to her eyes once again, but Angela hated that her first instinct was to cry. As soon as she was able to stand again, she rose, pulled her shoulders back, and wiped her mouth, facing Roger. He was standing a short distance away, a phone to his ear. When she approached him, he put it away.

"You okay?" he asked.

There was no use putting on a bravado after he'd just witnessed her emptying the contents of her stomach, so she only nodded. She didn't dare to look back at the scene. "What happened?"

"Someone tried to kill us, that's what."

She nodded, swallowing past her dry throat. At least he didn't mince words.

"But why? Do you think they know? About Daddy?"

Roger's face was grim. "There might be a few people who are privy to your father's plans, yes, but that doesn't mean they are the only suspects."

"You mean, there might be other people out there who wants to see us dead?" Angela was struggling to understand. "Me? Or just you? Did you lead them here?"

"I hate to rain on your parade, sweet cheeks, but this isn't the time for accusations. Soon enough, people are going to be sniffing around." 

Angela frowned at him, watching the way he scanned the crowd of people that was steadily growing larger. It was as if he was looking for something.

Angela opened her mouth to argue, feeling that welcoming anger surge within her, but then he grabbed her by the wrist, hauling her through the traffic that had come to a standstill as people gathered around the chaos. He pulled her towards a dark, sleek car that was idling on the curb, one that was discreet enough to blend in with all the other cars on the road. Roger let go of her as he went around to the driver's side just as a man exited the car. Their hands touched casually, but Angela could see that the man had slipped Roger the keys. 

"Get in," he ordered.

A protest rushed to the tip of Angela's tongue, but her common sense won out. Now wasn't the time to ignore the demands of others. She quickly got into the passenger side of the car, letting out a shudder at the blasting air conditioning.

Angela barely had her seatbelt buckled in before Roger whipped the car around and sped down the road they'd come.

"Now's your chance, babe," he said. "Get out all your questions. When we arrive back at the mansion, you won't be able to ask me anything."

Angela didn't even know where to begin. "Who was that man? And how did he get here so fast? Was he lying in wait knowing something like this was going to happen, or trailing behind us expecting something? And what the hell happened back there?"

Roger twisted his mouth around for a few moments before he said, "Alright, I won't answer the first three questions but I can definitely tell you that I don't know the answer to the last one. Though, I certainly wish I did."

"What do you mean you won't answer me?"

"Classified information, sweetheart," he drawled. His tone was so easy that she might not have believed that he had survived an explosion had she not been there to witness it herself. "I know you have your questions and you can say all of them if you want, but I won't be answering any that I shouldn't be."

Angela let out a rush of frustrated air. "Then why do you bother to provoke me in the first place? At least tell me what you think about what happened back there. Who was the target, you or me?"

"Why not both of us?"

That made her shiver. She gripped her seatbelt. "It couldn't be...those people..."

"No, the organization is gone, Angela." Roger's voice was strong, direct. "Do not even think about it. It has nothing to do with them."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, you know. It could very well mean that there are more people who want my head."

"Look, there's no use worrying about it. Let's just be happy that we made it out alive, why don't we?"

Despite his easgoign tone, Angela didn't miss the hard set of his jaw. His eyes were focused, clearly showing her that he wasn't as unbothered by what had happened as he was making it seem.

That only increased her anxiety, but she knew she was right. Asking questions was only going to make things worse for her. She would find herself slipping again, and after spending so much time dragging herself out of that dark place, she wasn't going to allow it. So she focused on the road ahead, holding on tightly to the seatbelt as Roger sped down the road, zipping dangerously in and out of traffic.

Silence spread throughout the car. Angela was lost in the thoughts she'd hoped to forget--but something new joined them. She couldn't stop thinking about how Roger had thrown himself on top of her, to protect her from the blast. They had been far enough, thank God, but what if they hadn't been? What if he'd gotten hurt taking the brunt of the blow and had even injured himself in the process?

Angela sneaked a peak at him, trying to spot any signs of blood or any tears in his clothes. He looked quite put together, and had even managed to put his hair back in place. Save for the streaks of dirt on his face, he looked very much the same.

She looked away, cursing herself for worrying, if only for a second.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for them to arrive at her mansion. There was a flurry of people on the front lawn waiting, including her father pacing back and forth. When he spotted the car speeding up the driveway, Stephen Staton rushed forward.

"Angela!" He enveloped her in his arms the moment she was out the car.

"Dad?" Angela pulled away, surprised. "How do you...?"

"I called," Roger said, coming up behind them, his voice monotonous. He'd slipped back into that role of his.

"My God, I can't believe something like that actually happened!" Stephen was distraught and, again, she was brought back to that day one year ago. "Come inside. You need to sit down. You're shaking."

Angela tucked her trembling fingers into a fist, hating that the help was seeing her like this. She let her father lead her into the mansion, knowing Roger was right on their heels. He sat her down in the living room just past the grand foyer and propped a footstool under her legs. Stephen was fussing over her, bringing her pillows, barking at the maids to fetch her snacks and something to drink, brushing strands of hair from her face as if she wouldn't be able to see otherwise.

Angela enjoyed it for a short while, and then she realized. "Where is Mother?"

"She's off somewhere," her father said dismissively, just as Helman entered with a tall glass of cold water and her anxiety medication. Angela turned her nose up at the pills and took the glass instead. She didn't dare to look up at Roger.

"Probably shopping," Angela murmured, taking a sip of the water. "We shouldn't disturb her."

"My poor dear." Stephen had finally settled down, stroking Angela's hair. "You must be so shaken up after what happened. Had Jason not been there then...I loathe to think what might have happened."

Angela did too. She could have died today.

"I cannot thank you enough, Jason," Stephen said, turning to face Roger. "Your service has already been proven invaluable."

"I only did what was expected of me, sir," Roger said stiffly. Angela took that as her chance to look at him, discreetly searching once again for any signs of an injury. He stood proud and tall, his chin cocked, looking perfectly fine.

"To think that these cowards would go after my daughter just to get to me." He didn't say the last word. Again. Just like last time, when she'd been kidnapped as a way to get to her father. "I cannot allow this to happen. Jason, I want you to be her bodyguard."

Angela was still staring at Roger, so her father's words didn't register until a few seconds later. "What?" she squeaked. "What about you?"

"I will get another bodyguard," Stephen said strongly. "But he has done so well protecting you that I do not trust anyone else to take care of your safety. From now on, he'll be the one in charge of your protection."

She sat up, already shaking her head. "No. That isn't happening. I don't want him following me around wherever I go."

"Angela." Her father's voice was stern, which was rare for him. "When I begin my campaign, you will have to have a bodyguard anyway. I would rather it be someone who has already proven that he is capable of protecting you."

"But, Daddy--"

"I'm not fighting with you on this. This is non-negotiable. Helman," Stephen looked over at Helman who was occupying his spot by the door, "please take Angela to her room and make sure that she stays there and rest."

"Father!"

"Angela, listen to me!" Stephen barked. "I will not have your life in jeopardy again! You will do as I say and that is final!"

Angela bit her lip, glaring at him. But she said nothing. She would save her protests for another day.

"Good." Stephen rose. "I am only doing what I think is best for you, Angela. You should know that."

Oh, she did. But he didn't know was that he was setting a two-faced liar as her bodyguard, one she didn't know she trusted. She wasn't going to let this decision go over easily.

But she held her tongue, watching as her father left the room and Helman approached her. "If you will, little lady," he said, sweeping his arm toward the door.

Gritting her teeth, and ignoring Roger's eyes boring into her, she rose and left the living room. Both Helman and Roger followed behind her as she made her way to her room, and try as she might, she couldn't ignore either of them. They were a prickly presence over her shoulder, one that made her tense. By the time she arrived at her room, she was eager to go inside. 

She stopped at the door, gave them both warning looks, and then locked them out. Then, without stopping, she went over to the bed and fell on top.

FInally, she let the tears run loose. She let her hands shake. She let her racing heart steadily build speed. And she laid there, staring at the ceiling, reliving the moment over and over again.