After coming out of the men’s changing room, I wait outside the women’s for Amelia. I changed quickly into the swimwear I purchased while she was trying hers on, not wanting to leave my post here outside this door for more than a minute. It’s not just the fact that it’s my job, but there’s something about her that makes me want to protect her.

I nearly jump when a hand is laid on my shoulder, but my second thought is: Amelia. I’m both disappointed and repulsed when I turn around and see that it’s not her. Instead, a girl dressed in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit with the longest nails I’ve ever seen in person smiles suggestively at me while batting her long lashes. I thought I’ve lived on this earth long enough to know that girls only do that as dramatically in movies. I’m obviously quite wrong.

The color of her swimsuit gives me further insight into what kind of person she is; she’s definitely in the category of people who are dependent upon the attention of others.

“Hey, cutie,” she says, running her long, red nails down my arm. Disgusted by her forwardness, I step to the side, but remain standing between the men’s and the women’s changing rooms. “My name’s Candice, but you can call me Candy,” she continues. Her attempt to make herself desirable with her body language and voice is like sandpaper against my skin. “Mind if I take a picture of you? Christmas is right around the corner and I wanna show Santa what I need. How ‘bout it, cutie?”

The women’s changing room opens suddenly, and Candice quickly jumps out of the way, just avoiding being hit by the door.

Out walks Amelia in the same outfit that caused me to wonder whether or not it was a good idea to get this specific one for her, as I know how much attention it may bring. Though hers is a modest one-piece and a far cry from the style Candice is wearing, I’ll have to keep an extra close eye on her.

“July!” I say. Her face lights up when she sees me, but then shows surprise, reminding me that she didn’t know I’d gotten a swimsuit as well. I’m sure she doubted I’d even be in the water.

I feel heat rush to my cheeks when I see her looking at my body as if she’s never seen me without a shirt before, but I try hard to suppress my feelings so they won’t show.

I reach out for her hand and bring her closer to me, then do the unthinkable without an acceptable explanation. When I step back and my lips leave her cheek, I try to keep my cool and mask my embarrassment by intertwining my fingers with hers and walking off, leaving behind a satisfyingly shocked Candice. I’m assuming she doesn’t get her offers turned down often enough.

It feels as if the silent walk to the water is getting longer and longer with every single step we take. While I do regret my action, there’s this small part of me that I’ve forced into silence that disobeys, finally speaking up. I don’t like what it has to say one bit.

☆⍟☆

I follow closely behind Amelia as she floats down the Intercoastal Waterway on a big, clear floaty, her skin glistening in the light of the sun. It’s a picture perfect moment as she rests her head back on the floaty and closes her eyes.

Being as quiet as possible, I sneak up behind her and put my hands on the floaty on either side of her head, then begin to push her down the lazy river. She arches her back and adjusts her body in such a way that she can look at me with an upside-down view. When she smiles, her grey eyes light up, and the cleft in her chin as well as her deep set of dimples appear.

“Hi,” she says in the same soft, quiet way as when she greeted me at the door of her bedroom the other day.

“Hi,” I reply. I honestly expected her to not want to talk to me after what I did just twenty minutes ago. I’m still wondering where I got that sudden strike of boldness from.

At first, Amelia was clearly shocked, and we didn’t talk for the whole walk to the Intercoastal Waterway. I assumed she was mad until she returned to her normal self once she got into the freezing water. A fleeting thought of apologizing goes through my mind, but I dismiss the urge, figuring I probably shouldn’t bring it up.

Amelia’s eyes and soft smile tell me that she’s very relaxed. The water is cold, but the warmth the sun provides cancels out the discomfort of the icy feeling around our bodies and makes even me feel more relaxed than I’ve felt in a long while. It’s not often that I get to swim in a river called ‘lazy’ and be just that. I’m actually enjoying myself, thanks to Amelia’s boredom prior to leaving the hotel room.

It’s not as noisy over here as it is in other areas of this park, creating a peaceful atmosphere. The water’s white noise relaxes me further, but when I realize what’s happening, I become on high alert again. I can’t let my guard down… especially not here.

Amelia turns over onto her stomach and frowns as she looks into my eyes. I begin to wonder if she’s remembering twenty minutes ago and is finally going to show how upset I made her, but that’s not at all what happens. She slowly reaches her right hand toward my face, then pushes my hair to the side, away from my eyes. It doesn’t fall back like it normally would when dry, but instead sticks to my forehead.

“Better,” she says, smiling again. “I like to see your eyes. Plus, you no longer look like a potential axe murderer.”

I glare at her half-jokingly, causing her to giggle. “Is that what you’ve thought of me all along?” I question, unable to hold back a slight smile.

“Yeah, actually,” she answers, being more honest than I expected. “I’ll be truthful and say that was one of the things running through my mind when I caught you staring at me for the amount of time that you did. What were you thinking, anyway?”

“Well, you see…” I begin, then don a panicked expression as I point to a random area behind her. “Hey, what on earth?!”

“What?!” she asks, quickly turning her head to see. I take this opportunity to duck under the water and swim away, not wanting to give her even just a glimpse into my mind by letting her see the embarrassed expression that’s sure to be on my face.

From under the water I see two boys around the same age as us walking in our direction. At first I give them the benefit of the doubt, thinking that maybe I am being a little paranoid, but when they stop and begin to talk to Amelia, a mixture of feelings overwhelm me.

I resurface and walk as quickly as I can toward them without drawing any attention. A feeling I can’t name bubbles underneath the surface of alarm. I don’t like the looks these guys are giving to her. “Hey, July, I think we should head back home,” I say with a tone of urgency in my voice.

The boys look my way, but ignore me. The taller, more muscular one says, “July’s a hot month, but they should’ve named you August. It’s hotter… but that still wouldn’t do you justice.”

“July, let’s go,” I say more firmly, helping her get down from the big floaty that she seemed to be struggling to get out of. The look on her face right now speaks volumes, so she doesn’t have to. It’s clear that these boys were bothering her from the start.

“Don’t let your boyfriend control you like that, sweetheart,” the shorter one says, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “You should be allowed to see other men.”

I scoff. “You call yourselves men?” I reply, feigning a shocked response. “Real men know when to back off from a girl, especially when her boyfriend gets involved.” I take Amelia’s hand, expecting the two to give us a hard time, but neither of them say anything as we walk away. “Alright, let’s get changed and then we’ll head back to the room.”

“Okay,” Amelia says sadly. “I’ve had fun… Thank you for taking me here, and, well… for everything. For saving my life the other day.” She comes closer to me, and the moment I realize what she’s going to do, my heart rate quickens. She gives my cheek a soft kiss, then steps back and looks at me, embarrassment written all over her face. Biting her lip, she turns and disappears into the dressing room, leaving me wondering if that really just happened.

I quickly change back into my white American Eagle t-shirt and jeans, then hurry out to where Amelia left me, not wanting her to be alone if she comes out before I do. She walks out a moment later, wearing the most perfect smile I have ever seen. My heart begins to race, but I’m yanked back to my senses by an alarm that goes off in my head, telling me what is right and reminding me that I can never have what I desire. I'm about to say something when I overhear someone talking in my first language.

“Si dice che lei è qui.”

I turn around to look where it came from, and easily spot the man who spoke. He is talking to a large group of people who are all dressed in long sleeve black, button-down shirts and jeans. Even their shoes match. Because of the uniformity, the size of the group and their choice of clothing on this hot day, they stick out like a sore thumb.

I recognize some of them. The one who seems to be the leader definitely reminds me of someone, but I can't remember where I’ve seen him. The group sets off a warning signal in my head. The scowls some of them wear and the determination in each pair of eyes make them look every bit of ‘up to no good’. These men are dangerous, I know that, but I can't remember the exact reason.

"Hey, are you okay?" Amelia asks me. Then I remember.

I recognize the men from days of studying Amelia's case, memorizing the faces of the most wanted members of the group who is after her. This is bad.

My heart begins to race again, but this time it is caused by fear for her as the men get closer and their words become easier to hear.

“She is most definitely here,” the leader says in a deep, throaty voice in his native Italian tongue.

Having to think fast and not allow panic to conquer my ability to do so, I turn to Amelia and grab her hands, leading her into a dimly lit recessed area of this breezeway. After spinning her around gently but quickly, I back her up into the corner, brush away a cobweb and rest my hands on the walls beside her head. I make sure to smile so the scene I’m creating won’t look suspicious to onlookers.

“Ross?” Amelia says softly. “What are you–?”

I cover her lips with mine, silencing her while blocking her body from the view of the hit men with my own. My confused heart is pounding so hard from a mixture of both positive and negative emotions that I wonder if Amelia can feel it.

The soft way she moans into my mouth causes a fiery sensation to spread all over my body. The moment our lips connected, she brought me into overwhelming ecstasy and to a sea of euphoria, where I sink deeper with every passing second. There seems to be a current of electricity in her gentle hands, because everywhere she touches I feel sparks and my skin reacts in the same way it does when I’m freezing… but I’m the polar opposite.

After Amelia unburies her fingers from my hair, they make their way down the sides of my face, creating a trail of slowly spreading goosebumps down my arms once again without even touching them. The way her soft hands brush so lightly against my skin sends chills down my spine, causing my body to shake slightly. Noticing this, Amelia smiles and pulls away, but I haven’t had enough. This is no longer just about hiding her, and the sudden realization of that scares me. But still, I can’t resist going back for more.

Need courses through my veins, bringing me to a place I vowed I’d never venture into. I promised myself I’d never get this emotionally involved with a client, but Amelia has easily made herself an exception to my rule.

Cupping her cheeks, I press my lips to hers again, feeling that same inferno return to my soul as the passion of the kiss increases.I’m ripped right out of the moment, though, when the same man speaks again from further off.

“La ragazza muta ha il suo telefono con lei,” he says. “Ma rende più facile per noi di tracciare lei!” The whole group laughs.

It takes a moment for me to process the man’s words, and another moment to decide whether or not I believe him. Surely he can’t be talking about Amelia… She doesn’t have her phone with her; I made sure she didn’t bring anything that could be tracked. But then a memory comes to me of a look she wore when I gave her the new phone, and I feel my face flush with anger.

“Do you know anything about the possession of an old phone you were told to leave behind?” I ask, disliking the tone of my voice but unable to control it. I run my hand through my hair, which is a fairly new habit of mine that I picked up after several stressful months as a U.S. Marshal.

Amelia replies to my question with one of her own. “What are you talking about?” Her eyes betray her, telling me the opposite of what her mouth is saying.

Sighing, I peek around the corner and see that the men are now far off in the distance. I’m thankful that Amelia’s phone doesn’t give them our precise location.

“Hand it over,” I order, holding out my hand as I glare into her eyes. Amelia is the first to look away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says firmly, yet quietly as she stares at the ground.

“Don’t lie to me, Amelia,” I say, hardly able to believe that this is the same girl. “Give me your phone. Your old phone.”

Amelia slips her hand into the right pocket of her white capris, then pulls out her phone and hands it to me, obviously very reluctantly. After snatching it from her, I release the phone, sending it crashing to the ground. The screen cracks, but I’m not satisfied, so I lift my foot and bring it down onto the device, crushing it until it is no longer recognizable.

Amelia stares down at the pieces in horror, her mouth agape. She then looks up at me in such a way that causes me to feel a slight pang of guilt, but I know why I did that. It was to protect her. A lot of what I do is to protect her, but she’s making it extremely difficult. I tell her exactly that.

☆⍟☆

The ride back to the hotel is awkward and silent. Amelia sits to the right of me with her arms crossed, a pout on her face. She hasn’t looked at me at all and neither of us have said a word in the ten minutes since we climbed into the Hummer. I’m not used to receiving silence from this normally talkative girl.

Beginning to feel as if there’s not enough air in this vehicle, I press a button that rests between us and my window comes down. I’m not sure whether I should put Amelia’s down or not, so I don’t bother to. And I know that if I asked, all I’d get is silence.

“You wanna know what I was thinking as I stared at you in Starbucks?” comes out of my mouth without permission. Perhaps the reason is simply because I couldn’t stand how quiet this Hummer had gotten since I turned the radio off. I’m unlike most of my friends who go to music first when they feel angry, depressed or hurt. Music is my last resort, and it usually leaves me feeling worse than before. Especially when it’s the songs that make it seem as if the singer has never experienced the real world.

Amelia only continues to gaze out the window, not caring enough to respond in any way, even though she knows that I know she heard me.

My mouth seems to gain control over my brain as I continue to talk in spite of her unresponsiveness. “I was thinking ‘man, she’s either really brave for remaining in her seat or really dumb. Well, now I have my answer.” This time, Amelia does look at me, and even though it still shows on her face that she’s upset with me, I’m reminded of the real reason I was staring at her. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her even after I’d decided that the girl in the photograph I was given was most definitely Amelia Kennedy. “I can’t believe you deliberately disobeyed and broke a rule that was made for your safety,” I continue.

Amelia sighs, looking away again, then finally speaks, her voice breaking. I prefer the silence over what she says. “I had pictures of my parents in there…”

Though I give a heartfelt apology, I could never regret what I did. Her safety is most important to me and I’ll stop at nothing to protect her.

☆⍟☆

“Hey, look who it is! Romeo and Juliet!” says the man behind the counter. I roll my eyes. His words have become so predictable after the teasing we receive daily – no, nearly every time we come down to the lobby. Amelia has told me to “lighten up” and take it as a friendly joke, which, I know, is what it is of course, but it’s still irritating in my opinion.

Amelia doesn’t greet our ‘friend’ like she always does. I’m sure it’s obvious even to him that she’s in a foul mood. She instead walks right past him, also clearly trying to get away from me by walking at a faster pace than I am.

I could tell he was already suspicious of me. He’d looked at me strangely when Amelia silently asked me if she could have the cookie he was offering, and when I said I’d be paying with cash. I haven’t missed the fact that he’s had a close eye on me ever since. I really don’t think he was entirely joking when he asked if we were “running from the law”.

I’ve already explained the reason Amelia couldn’t keep her phone. She now knows she was being tracked with its help and that we were found at Hershey Park, so I don’t understand why she’s acting like this. But then I remember my harsh words to her and am suddenly filled with remorse.