Bodyguard My Heart (The Bodyguard #2)

Chapter 4

4

D emetrius

I’d been staring at the security cameras outside of Samara’s condo for twenty minutes like a simp ass nigga. I was in a room full of naked women, but in my mind, I was contemplating going over there and snatching the divorce papers from her door. I only signed them because I ain’t know what else to do. She’d been ignoring me for two months. I was ignoring her, too, but my shit was valid. Samara was playing childish games, and I wasn’t the type of nigga to indulge in that shit. I was straightforward. I said what I meant, and I got what I wanted.

“If you have second thoughts, nigga, then why did you do it in the first place?” Fabian asked, breaking me from my thoughts. My eyes traveled to him and then back to the big booty female shaking ass in front of me. I didn’t respond as I swiped from my phone’s security camera app.

“I’ll go over there and get them motherfuckers out the door for you.” Fabian passed me the blunt we’d been smoking. I stared at him and shook my head.

“Nah, she got it.” I inhaled the smoke, allowing the marijuana to fill my lungs. My hand cupped the booty of the light-skinned chick in front of me. Shorty was doing her thing, making her ass clap.

“Fancy seeing you here.” The familiar voice had me yanking my head up. I’d gone six years without seeing Naveah, and here she was in the flesh. I let my eyes roam her body. She looked older, but she was still fine as fuck. Her hips had filled out, probably from having kids.

“Naveah Cannon!” I called her name playfully.

“Actually, it’s Cannon-Moore.” She flashed her left hand to reveal a decent-looking ring. From what I heard, she married some dude who played basketball overseas. He had a normal upbringing. His mother and father were lawyers. The complete opposite of me.

“My fault. Mrs. Cannon-Moore. What you doing in Miami?”

“You remember my cousin Joslyn?”

I nodded. Joslyn was a part of our little circle back in the day. Royale used to link with her sometimes.

“She’s getting married. I came in town for her bachelorette party.”

“That’s what’s up. Tell Jos, I send my congratulations. I’ll send y’all a bottle. Where y’all sitting?”

She pointed to the other side of the club, and immediately, my eyes spotted Joslyn. I shot her a small wave, and she returned the greeting.

“So, what’s new with you?” Naveah questioned.

“I’m still the same nigga you left,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. I didn’t have any hard feelings for her. I just wasn’t interested in playing the catch-up game with her. I already had enough on my mind dealing with Samara.

“I didn’t leave you, Demetrius. I went away to school, and you didn’t want to come with me.” She recanted her version of the events.

“You got your version, and I got mine.”

She walked over to me and sat down, inviting herself into my space.

“I hear you’re the big boss around here now.”

I nodded. I wasn’t about to confirm or deny shit. Plus, I knew if she was still talking to Joslyn’s big mouth ass, she knew what the streets were whispering about me.

“You’ve always been capable of so much. I can tell you still have some animosity towards me. That’s cool.”

“Naveah, that was years ago. I’m not tripping off that high school shit.” I waved her off. I had long ago stopped caring about what had gone down between us. To Naveah, I was a going nowhere in life hood nigga, and I was cool with that. I’d used it as fuel to become the boss I am today.

“High school or not, you were my first love.” She was quiet for a minute before speaking again. “Just for the record: When I left, I was waiting for a grand gesture of love, Meechie. When you just let me go without a fight, I knew you weren’t as invested as you pretended to be.”

I listened to her. Everything she was saying was true. Falling in love with Samara had revealed that to me. I would go to the ends of the fucking earth for Samara, but Naveah couldn’t even get me to go to Chicago.

“I wasn’t ready for all that back then. Besides, you wanted me to be something that I’m not. I’m a gangster, Naveah. It’s what I was born to be.”

“I see more. I’ve always seen more,” she replied. A comfortable silence fell over us before she stood from the couch.

“I better be getting back. Hug.” She opened her arms. Standing, I pulled her into a friendly hug.

“Stay safe, Demetrius.” She pulled away and walked down the stairs. Bumping into Royale on her way out, they embraced and shared a moment before she was on the other side of the club.

“You and Samara are still on that bullshit, I see.” Royale’s voice thundered over the music as he entered my section at the strip club. I returned to my seat, pulling the big booty in front of me down on my lap before dapping up my best friend.

“What’s up, nigga!” I greeted him as he took a seat next to me. I was surprised he’d accepted my invitation to hang out tonight. Monroe had that boy’s head so far gone he acted like a nigga didn’t exist. I wasn’t complaining, though. My nigga was in love, and Monroe was cool people. If I could get Samara to act right, I’d be ducked off too.

“Sup.” He eyed me and the stripper awkwardly as he dapped up Fabian. I needed to holla at my boy briefly, but I wanted to get up with shorty later. I hadn’t fucked in months, and I was backed up since I was no longer fucking with Samara like that.

“I need to holla at my niggas, but I want to link with you later. That cool?” I whispered in her ear. There was no need to beat around the bush. All of the strippers in here already knew who I was and what I was about.

“Yeah, that’s cool,” she replied. Damn, this chick sounds like a man , I thought as I surveyed her neck for an Adam ’ s apple.

“What’s your government, beautiful?” I questioned.

“Raina.”

“Raina, what?”

“Jackson,” she replied. The first and last name was more for Fabian than for me. He ran anybody I met up with through a background check. In my line of work, I couldn’t trust anybody. Niggas weren’t above sending a woman to do their dirty work, so I had to be careful.

“Put your number in my phone. I want to get us a room when you get off.”

“Okay.” Her husky voice swooned.

She was lucky she was cute, ’cause her voice was deep as fuck. Taking my phone in her hands, she slid off my lap. My eyes met Royale’s. I knew he was going to have something to say in a minute.

“I get off at five,” she whispered into my ear before sashaying away. She put an extra twist in her hips for me. It wasn’t needed. I’d already decided she would do for the night. I watched her disappear from the section before cutting my eyes to Royale. He stared at me, and for the first time since we’d been friends, I couldn’t read him. I hated that Samara had exposed her brother to our shit. It was bad enough that I’d married his sister behind his back, but now I had to tell half truths about being in a relationship with her, and that shit was fucking with me.

“Really?” Royale’s head cocked to the side.

“What?” I shrugged. I knew what he was talking about, but I played dumb.

“Nigga, am I going to have to beat yo’ ass about my sister?”

We all shared a laugh, but I knew he was serious.

“If I were fucking her over, I’d beat my ass,” I replied. “Samara ain’t fucking with me.”

“What’s up with that? I thought y’all were doing good. Y’all broke up?”

“Something like that.” I took another puff of the blunt. I didn’t like discussing Samara with Royale. He was her brother. He thought Samara and I were just dating, and I didn’t like lying to him. In the beginning, we lied to stop Royale from stepping in and taking over the cartel. Now we were just lying for our own selfish reasons. We both didn’t want to deal with the fallout that telling Ro the truth would cause.

“Samara only sees a nigga as a gangster. She only sees—"

“Our father,” he cut me off, finishing my sentence.

I nodded my head. “Exactly!”

“You know Mara ain’t never had a good example of love or a relationship. She was too young to remember when our parents were happy. I tried my best as her big brother to show her what love from a man looks like, but it isn’t the same. All Mara remembers is living in an empty mansion and fending for herself. She ain’t never had a relationship with our father. He was always gone, always working. The cartel came first. He wasn’t even there when Mom or Darnell passed away.”

I took in what he said. We’d been friends for so long that there wasn’t much about him or Samara’s childhood that I wasn’t hip on. I’d seen their father’s lifestyle tear their family apart. My mom used to allow Ro, Darnell, and Samara to sleep over at our house when their mama was getting high, and their father was with mine off running the cartel. Samara and I both had daddy issues. That was probably why the universe had stuck us together. I recognized her scars and she mine. It allowed me to offer her a little patience.

“Samara just needs to know that you will not abandon her for the cartel’s business, like our pops,” Royale continued. I heard what he said, but I didn’t know how to do that. The cartel was my life. It came before everybody. Sometimes, it came before me. I hit the blunt I’d been babysitting. It was the only thing keeping me mellow.

“You know I dropped the L bomb, and she flat out said she ain’t love a nigga,” I blurted.

“Damn! Like that!”

“Yeah, yo’ sister a fucking savage.”

“Don’t I know it?” Ro echoed my sentiments. “You love her though, nigga? I can see it on you. You weren’t even acting like this with Naveah.”

“Bruh, on some real shit, I love your sister. I ain’t trying to be with nobody but her. She the headache I don’t ever want to stop having.” I took one last puff of the blunt before passing it to Fabian. “I don’t know what else to do. She doesn’t want anything to do with the cartel, and I run that motherfucker. Probably gon’ run it until I’m six feet under. Ain’t no other options for me. So where does that leave us?”

It felt good to get that all off my chest. Ro understood this shit better than anyone, and he never passed judgment. Even when I was doing something stupid, he was there helping me fix it. Not many people were blessed to have the brotherhood we had. The more I thought about it, the more guilt clouded my mind. I needed to be one hundred with my boy and tell him the truth about Samara and my situation. He was gon’ be pissed, but he didn’t have a choice but to understand. We’d done this shit for him.

“I don’t know what to tell you other than kidnap her,” he joked. “I’m probably not the best motherfucker to ask for advice. You see how I got my wife.”

I shook my head.

“Samara will probably call the police on my ass if I pulled some shit like that.”

“Yeah, she would.” We shared a laugh. “Sister or not, she stubborn.”

“Fuck yeah.” I agreed.

“Keep applying that pressure. She’ll come around. I already know what color tux I’m gon’ walk her down the aisle in.”

There went that fucking guilty feeling again. There was no need to lie about it anymore since the divorce would be final soon.

“I appreciate it.” I took a deep breath. “I need to be one hundred about something.” Now was as good as any to come clean.

“Go ahead.” Royale stared at me.

“Samara and I are—”

“This nigga up here crying over Samara, ain’t he?” Polo interrupted me as he entered our section. “You invited us out to the strip club to kick it, but I’m not seeing nan ass bouncing in this section.” His loud mouth ass was already faded. I could tell by the tone in his voice.

“Try being with his simping ass almost every day!” Fabian cosigned, making everyone snicker.

“Sup, bro!” I ignored them all and greeted my brother. We dapped each other up before he dapped Fabian and Ro. Polo was everything I used to be back in the day. Loud, flashy, and turned the hell up. Well, I was still flashy, but his ass had me beat on everything else.

“Must you come in here with that loud shit?” I teased him.

“Man, you just finish simping, so we can get some naked ass in this bitch.” Polo waved me off. “I did not come out here to talk that mushy shit with y’all niggas all night.”

“Finally, somebody said it,” Fabian interjected.

“Fuck both y’all niggas.” I threw them both the middle finger.

“Don’t trip off them lonely ass niggas. We’ll talk later.” Royale grinned.

“Definitely don’t include me on that call. Old, in love ass niggas,” Polo mumbled. Royale and I burst out laughing at his bitter ass.

“You only feel that way because Contessa ain’t giving you no play.” I called him out.

“Fuck you, bitch. Ain’t nobody thinking about that girl.” He shot back as we all laughed. This was normally how shit went when we all got together. Just a bunch of jokes and shit talking. A trail of women entered our section, and I knew Polo had requested them. Royale and I sat back, enjoying the views as Polo let a big bankroll of money go in the air. I had no urge to trick tonight, so I just sat back and let him do his thing.

“Aye, boss man, Grant approaching to the left.” Fabian alerted me. Royale and I both sat up, placing our guns on our laps. We knew Grant wasn’t coming in peace. He wanted smoke for his fuck ass son Kashus and his nephew Rah. Both of them niggas deserved what they’d gotten. He was better off picking up the pieces of his dying ass mafia and moving on. Snooping around us was gon’ have him lying in the grave next to his crackhead ass son. I watched as his old white ass waltzed into our section with his goons. His face turned up.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” I greeted him. I ain’t care how many times he popped up where we were. He was always going to get the same response.

“My son's body was delivered to my house last Saturday stuffed in a bloody box. My grandchildren were there.” He hissed. I could hear the pain in his voice. Losing a son, even one as fucked up as Kashus, must have been hard. It was why I’d given him the gift of being able to bury his son. I usually had all evidence of dead bodies discarded.

“Damn, you got any clue what could have happened?” Royale questioned. “Sounds like your son made an enemy.”

I darted my eyes to Royale. That nigga was so good at playing dumb. I almost believed he hadn’t been the one to put a bullet in Kashus’s head.

“I’m confused as to why you keep informing us. Do we look like detectives?” I questioned.

“My son came down here to look for that bitch, and now he’s dead. Then I hear Dr. London here has married her.” Grant’s nostrils flared as he approached Royale. Ro quickly stood from his seat, and we all joined him.

“I change lives, Mr. Grant. I don’t take them. Monroe and I getting married has nothing to do with your son’s disappearance. I assure you that.” Royale smirked. Grant attempted to close the space between them, but the pistol Polo had aimed at the back of his head had him second-guessing his decision. The guys with Grant pulled their guns, and Fabian and I did the same. A few of the strippers screamed as they ran out of the section. I would have to pay the owner extra for scaring the girls. I cocked my head at Grant.

“I know you and that fat bitch had something to do with my son’s murder,” he spat. If there weren’t so many witnesses around, I would kill his ass now for disrespecting Monroe. She was my sis and I ain’t play that fat shaming shit.

“Is that so?” I replied. “Then I suggest you call the police. I’ve told you before. We can’t help you.”

“I might just do that.”

Royale and I withdrew our guns, tucking them back in our pants. Just like we wouldn’t shoot around all these witnesses, neither would Grant. He knew he didn’t stand a chance going up against the police and the judges we had on payroll here in Miami.

“We are sorry about your loss. Both of them, but I suggest you stop coming around here pointing fingers. We don’t take well to threats. We might have to withdraw our contract. Don’t forget who is keeping your bills paid.” I patted him on the pocket and stepped around him, leaving his old, wrinkled ass standing there. Royale, Polo, and Fabian followed. There was no point in staying there now. I didn’t chill in rooms with my enemies. Besides, Grant had killed the vibes.

“We’re going to have to kill his ass,” Ro blurted as he followed me out of the club.

“I’m already on it,” I replied. Fabian ran to get the car and pulled it around as we stood in front of the club. Few motherfuckers were bold enough to run up on us, let alone pull their guns out. That alone warranted his death. I had killed people for less. This pop up, like the other ones, was not a coincidence. Grant was watching us and plotting. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a man of his stature. I knew we would have to get him before he got us.

“Y’all niggas might as well meet me at the warehouse,” I stated. Polo and Royale both stared at me, bobbing their heads. They already knew that an impromptu trip to the abandoned shoe factory I kept just off the ocean meant somebody was being disposed of. I didn’t have to explain or consult them before setting my plan in motion. It didn’t matter. They were gon’ shoot first and ask questions later. That was how we all moved when it came to each other. My eyes meet Ro’s. It had been a long time since he’d been to the warehouse. He was retired.

“I figured since you started this shit, it’s only right you finish it.”

“I’m down,” he replied just as Fabian pulled my blacked-out SUV in front of the club.

“Y’all riding?” I offered. There was no need to take multiple cars if we ain’t have to, but knowing these niggas they would want to drive their own shit.

Ro held up his hands in protest. “Naw, Monroe at Samara’s having a girls’ night. I’m going to follow just in case I got to dip at any time to pick up her drunk ass.”

My eyes darted to Polo.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m leaving my baby parked out here.” Polo declined my offer as he headed to his red Lamborghini.

“Meet y’all niggas there then.” I climbed into the back seat of the truck.

“Have someone snatch up Grant. I want to show him the warehouse,” I instructed Fabian.

“Say less, boss man.” He sent a message on his phone before pulling off and merging onto the main intersection. I didn’t plan on spending my night working, but it was a welcomed change from thinking about Samara. Chopping up Grant would stop me from ending up at Samara’s doorstep, because signed divorce papers or not, she was mine and always would be.

I pulled out my phone and swiped her number. I wanted to call her. Shoot her a text or something. The sound of screeching tires in the distance had me pulling my gun out and going on alert, but I was too late. A huge eighteen-wheeler truck was already slamming into the side of the SUV. My head slammed into the window, and the world spun as we flipped multiple times. I threw my hands up to shield my face as glass shattered around me. My thoughts went to Samara and then my brother as pain radiated through my body. I attempted to move, but my legs were heavy.

“Fuck!” I groaned. The car stopped moving, and I attempted to search for my gun. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I wanted to be prepared if this was an ambush.

“Fabian!” I called, trying to gather myself. My ears rang, and the pain in my head forced me to close my eyes.

“Fabian!” I called again, hoping for a response, but there was nothing. Only sirens and voices in the distance.

“Meechie!”

“Fabian!”

“Check that truck!” Royale called out as his face came into view outside the SUV.

“Ro,” I whispered as he yanked the door open. His eyes ballooned as he took in my condition.

“Meechie! Fuck!” Royale’s eyes locked on mine. He was scared, and that confirmed what I already knew.

“I… you… These niggas trying to kill me, ain’t they?” My words jumbled together, and my vision blurred.

“I got you, nigga,” Royale mumbled. The overwhelming urge to tell him about Samara and I crept in.

“I… Samara… we—” I tried to mumble as I faded in and out of consciousness.

“We got you, bruh. The ambulance is on the way.” That was the last thing I heard as everything faded to black.