Bodyguard My Heart (The Bodyguard #2)

Chapter 16

16

D emetrius

“Samara!” I shouted at the other end of the phone right before the call dropped. “Samara!” I called again.

“Fuck! Fuck!” I banged my fist against the steering wheel. I wanted to run to the scene and shoot every motherfucker within the vicinity, but by the time I got there, Samara would be long gone. I called back even though I knew she wouldn’t answer, but a nigga was panicking. I’ve never in my life been afraid of shit, but this had me spooked. The phone rang six times before going to voicemail, confirming what I already knew. She’d been taken. My mind raced a mile a minute as I dialed up Royale. I knew Polo wasn’t too far away from him. I needed to talk to the only people in this world that I trusted.

“They got Samara!” I shouted as soon as the phone call connected. There was no point in wasting any time. We needed a plan, and they needed to be on first thing smoking back to Florida.

“Hold up. Who... W-What? Meechie, s-slow down, nigga.” Royale stumbled over his words.

“Samara went to see y’all pops, and she ain’t make it back. She was on the phone with me. I just heard her get snatched out of her fucking car.” I was talking fast, my head buried in my hands.

“Fuck!” Royale thundered. “Do we know who got her?” I could hear the panic in his voice. It matched mine.

“Your dad has another son, and since Samara thinks he ordered the hit, my money on y’all brother.”

“What?” Royale hesitated. “Run that shit back.”

“Your dad has another son,” I repeated. “Samara just met him at the jail.”

The phone fell silent, and I could hear rustling on the other end.

“What’s going on, bro? Royale just tossed me the phone and stormed out,” Polo questioned. I ain’t blame Royale for dipping. This was a lot to process at one time. He had a long-lost brother, his sister was kidnapped, and his father had sent a hit for his best friend. I was surprised he wasn’t knocking holes into the wall.

“Samara was taken,” I told him.

“Shit!” He let out a breathy sigh, and I ran down everything Samara told me over the phone before she was taken.

“How’s Royale?” I checked in on him.

“He’s good, just taking a breather. This shit heavy.”

“As fuck, man.” I took a deep breath as I threw the car into drive. My emotions were replaced with logic. Royale had the right idea. I needed to take a minute to calm down. I couldn’t go into this with emotion. The wrong move could cost Samara her life.

“I’m texting the pilot now. We headed your way. Don’t move until we get there, Meechie,” Polo said. He knew I was ready to make moves, but I wasn’t stupid. I was hurt. I couldn’t bust my gun and hold up these damn crutches.

“I’m posted,” I reassured him. “I’m about to see what I can find out about these niggas to see if I can figure out where they might have taken her.”

“Yeah, we need everything pulled up on these motherfuckers.” Polo agreed.

“If something happens to Samara, father or not, I’m gonna put two to his head,” Royale barked. I guess he’d taken enough of a breather.

“Not before I do.” I shot back. I couldn’t believe he was behind all of this. Mr. London was like a father to me. He never wanted me to run the cartel. He just had no choice at the time. I never thought it would come to him trying to get me killed and having his own daughter taken. If I could, I would walk up to his jail cell and end his miserable life.

“The jet can get us there within the hour.” Polo updated. My house wasn’t that far from here because I didn’t live in Miami. I lived just outside of the city. I pulled my car out of the hotel parking lot. An hour seemed long as fuck when we didn’t even know if Samara was okay.

“Aye, what if they kill her? What if she already gone?” My voice was barely there. I couldn’t fathom living this life without her. Samara was my fucking rib.

“We can’t think like that. If they wanted her dead, they wouldn’t have taken her. They could have easily shot up the car and kept going,” Polo replied. He was blunt, but he had a point. She was alive. They had taken her for a reason. We just had to figure out what them niggas wanted.

“Aye, Polo, look at this shit!” Royale shouted in the background. There was movement on the other end before Polo started cursing.

“These dumb motherfuckers!” he grumbled. “We know where they took her, bro.”

“Where? Let’s fucking go.” I was ready.

“Your house.”

“My house?” My eyes widened.

“Ro just got a security alert about movement at your residence. I’m sending over the footage now.”

I shook my head in disbelief. My house had two security systems. One had the cameras in plain sight. The other one had the cameras hidden. Ro and Polo had access to both of them. I guess he’d downloaded the apps on his burner phone to watch out for properties while we were gone. Going to my house had to be the dumbest fucking move.

“Oh, these lil niggas bold, but they dumb.”

“Big dumb.” Polo cosigned.

They’d taken her to my playground on the false belief that I was dead. It was about to be a mistake that would cost them. My phone dinged, and I looked down at the camera footage Polo sent over. I could see three masked men bring Samara in the back door. One of them was the dancing nigga, and the other was a short, light-skinned nigga that had Ro’s face. I stopped for a minute. Damn. Mr. London really had another son. That was wild.

I watched with clenched teeth as they stripped Samara down to her panties and tied her up on my basement floor. She was scared, visibly shaking as they dragged her across the floor and tied her to a support beam. I zoomed the image in to examine her. She appeared to be okay, which eased me slightly.

“They think they’ve won,” Royale said as I ripped my eyes away from the screen.

“They’re hiding in plain sight by going to your house and not disabling security cameras. Samara’s the fish. Who’s the bait?” Polo stated.

“If not me, then Royale.”

“Samara inherited the cartel if I died. Maybe they thought she’d give it to Ro. Either way, taking both of y’all out would give them a clear, uncontested path to take over the cartel.”

“Okay. We know where they at. We know why. What’s the plan?” Royale questioned.

“They expect you to come in guns blazing to get Samara. Let’s give them that,” I suggested. “It’s the perfect distraction for me to come in and deliver the kill shot.”

“With your crutches, Meechie? You’re a dead giveaway.”

“Once I get in position, I won’t need them.” There was a small and unnoticeable trapdoor in my bedroom that led to the basement. I put it there as an escape route if I ever had to evacuate. All I needed to do was get to my room, remove the trapdoor, and fire the kill shots.

“Yeah, but how we gon’ get you in position?”

“Let me worry about that,” I replied. Injured or not, there was no way in hell I would not fire the kill shot to save Samara. These niggas had violated me in every way, and that warranted a personal visit.

“I’m taking the shot even if I have to re-break my fucking leg to do so,” I told them. “That’s yo’ sister, Ro, but she the fucking love of my life.”

“You take the shot. Now let’s air out this plan a little more. We don’t need no slip ups.” Royale gave in. He knew it was a lost cause trying to argue with me.

“Let’s fucking go!” I merged onto the highway, heading toward my home.