This is a problem

MARK’S POV

After Anthony stormed out of the house, slamming doors and swearing out loud all the way, I loosen my tie and the top button of my shirt. It has been a long and taxing day.

I pour myself a Bourbon and slowly make my way to my room. The girl has been in my house since this morning, but I haven’t seen her since the car ride over here. I had to get away from her. I shake my head at the thought.

Imagine that. A man like me, running away from a fragile little thing like her. As I take the first step towards the second floor, I notice a quick movement on the top platform. She was there. She ran to her room. Good. She should be scared of me. It’s good that she has some sense of self preservation. I was beginning to think that she has no way of knowing when she needs to run.

I reach the top of the stairs and look at her bedroom door. How the hell can one man be so torn? I want to go into that room and walk right up to her. That would be the worst thing I could do, though. I should just forget about her and go to my room. I take a deep breath and let it out in a rushed sigh. I walk to my room and close the door behind me. Luckily, I have a lot of self-control.

I down my Bourbon and set the glass on the table. I discard of my clothes and get into bed. Today was bad. Tomorrow will be worse. I usually fall asleep instantly. I usually have no worries. Tonight, a red-haired girl with big green eyes bothers me. Her lily-white skin and the few soft freckles on her nose, they bother me too.

I swear under my breath and put some more effort into falling asleep.

* * * * *

I wake up to the sound of voices in the house. It is a huge house, which means the voices are quite loud. That is enough to make me get out of bed. I pay a quick visit to the bathroom and put on pants before I leave the room. I walk down to the study where the voices are coming from.

“It is ridiculous! There is no time for this nonsense! He cannot make decisions on our behalf.” Anthony is going at it again. He has always been the most vocal of all the brothers. He has no problem voicing his concerns. He is however, a hothead. Which means that most of the time when he has these very emotional outbursts, they turn out to be nothing in the end.

Being the eldest brother, I have come to terms with his ways. I humour him most of the time but this time I cannot afford for him to influence my decisions.

“Good morning, gents.” I greet my bothers as I always do. Anthony is fuming. He is, as always dressed in a full suit. He always looks ready to go to some very prestigious event. He is about a head shorter than I am and he has a little round face. I have always joked with him and told him that he is trying to compensate for his height by wearing expensive suits every day. I know it irritates him that I am not even fully dressed.

I take my seat behind my desk. Clive sits in one of the seats on the opposite side of the desk. He has spent a good part of the morning listening to Anthony rant and rave about the girl in my house. I can see the irritation on his face.

“Have a seat, dear brother.” I tell Anthony.

“How are you today?” I ask Clive. Clive looks at me, all the irritation in the world showing in his eyes only. He has mastered his facial expressions. Only I can see how he really feels. Part of it is because of my gift. Another part of it is spending so much time together.

“Just tell your side of this story, I cannot make decisions on speculations.” Clive answers in his very controlled voice. He is not emotional about anything ever. He makes all his decisions based on facts and his very keen ability to make quick risk assessments.

“It is not speculation! I saw her in the hospital. She is very real!” Anthony has another emotional outburst.

I give Anthony a look. Anthony shuts his mouth and takes a seat. He leans forward in his chair and places his elbows on his knees. His hands are clasped together between his knees. His whole demeanour is screaming frustration. He knows he has used up his quota for emotional outbursts today.

“Yes, there is a girl in the house.” I tell Clive. Clive immediately rubs a hand over his eyes. “I saw her in the shopping centre where we had our drinks the other day. She was walking past us, moments later the bombing happened and I saw her in harms way. I got her to a corner just before the roof caved in. She has no memory of the incident. I have not spoken to her yet, I have no idea how much she can remember of her life before. They called her Mrs Ross in the hospital and she didn’t protest at all.” I look at Clive who is now giving me a worried look. His hand covers his mouth as it usually does when he is thinking hard about a situation.

“Why don’t you leave the girl in the hospital for her family to find her.” Clive eventually asks.

My heart twists in my chest. This is something I cannot explain to either of them. Fear rises in my chest for the moment they will lay eyes on her. Nothing good will come of this. From the moment I laid eyes on this girl, I have signed up for a century long battle with my brothers.

“We need to move within the following month.” Clive tells me. I close my eyes. I know this. We cannot stay too long in one place; it is time to go.

“I will stay behind, make sure she is good and then I will follow you.” I tell Clive even though I know I will not follow. Anthony has a silent emotional outburst next to him. Flailing his hands in the air and then slapping them down on his knees again.

“Mark, I understand that you feel obligated to this girl, because you saved her, but she is not your responsibility. We cannot do the move without you. You know you are the spear of every move. This will of course impact all of our lives should you choose not to move with us.” Clive tells me in his very calm and rational voice.

There is a sound outside the door and we all focus our attention at the open study door. There is nothing to be seen from where we are sitting. Clive gets up from his seat and walks to the door.

He opens the study door wide, revealing the red-haired woman that is currently the topic of discussion. Clive is the same height as I am. The girl only reaches his chest level. She looks like a doe in headlights where she has been caught out eavesdropping.

She is clasping her hands in front of her chest. Pressing her white silk pyjamas neatly in between her small breasts. She is standing barefoot in front of Clive, and even though I cannot see her face, I know she is looking at him with the biggest brightest green eyes. Her red hair curled and pinned to her head creating the most beautiful frame for her very fair skin, making her eyes seem even brighter.

I focus my gaze on Clive, he is staring down at the girl. Taking in every one of her features. The cheeky tip of her nose and the dust of soft freckles over the bridge of her nose. Her narrow shoulders and the way she clasps her delicate fingers together.

He takes a step back from her and lets his eyes wander down her body. There is not much you can see, with her wearing ankle length pj pants and a loose fitting, matching top. You can, however, see that she is delicately built. She has narrow shoulders and matching hips. She is standing barefoot in front of him and even her feet are perfectly beautiful.

From the corner of my eye, I can see Anthony not understanding what is happening. He looks at me and opens his hands in a gesture of “What the hell is happening.” I sit back in my chair and turn my full focus back towards Clive.

I watch as the expression on Clive’s face changes. Calm and collected Clive. Always in full control of his thoughts and emotions Clive. This Clive suddenly has a worried look on his face. He slowly shakes his head while looking at the red-haired creature in front of him.

His eyes lift to meet mine.

“Fuck.”