Bodyguard My Heart (The Bodyguard #2)

Chapter 18

18

D emetrius

“Meechie! She’s up!” Monroe shouted as soon as the elevator door opened. I had just gone downstairs to order flowers for her hospital room. That motherfucker looked like death, and I didn’t want that to be the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. My baby had been through a lot in the past week. The gunshot had punctured her stomach, and she had to get emergency surgery. A few days after that, she caught an infection and had to undergo another surgery. We’d been waiting for her to wake up for about twelve hours. I took off sprinting toward her hospital room. The hospital staff had got me a knee scooter to get around the hospital better. I ain’t want to use it at first, but I eventually gave in.

Reaching her door, I took a deep breath. I hadn’t heard her voice since she’d passed out on my floor after losing too much blood. I was nervous. The door swung open, and all the girls, Aliza, Monroe, and Contessa, all piled out of the room. They were laughing, so that must have been a good sign.

“Breathe. She’s her crazy self.” Aliza patted me on the arm as she brushed past me. I smirked as I pushed open the hospital room door. Samara’s eyes immediately found mine, and we stared at each other for a minute.

“You’re here,” she said. “And on a scooter, wow.”

“Where else would I be?” I moved closer to her.

She cracked a smile at me, and my nerves were immediately gone. Slowly, I pushed up to her bedside. My hands found hers, and I wasted no time kissing her lips.

“I thought I had lost you,” I said.

“I thought I was dead,” she replied as we embraced. Words couldn’t express how happy I was to see her alive and well. When I thought she wouldn’t make it, my ass couldn’t even fucking breathe. I kissed her again, and she jerked, making me jump in fear I’d hurt her.

“What’s wrong?” I questioned.

“I just thought about my dad. He… is he…”

Her words trailed off the moment my head lowered. I didn’t want to be the one to tell her. Royale had received a call a few days ago, confirming that Julez’s plan to kill his father had gone through. They found him dead in his jail cell. The news had taken a back seat to Samara’s health, but it placed a gray cloud over our heads. Mr. London was a fucked-up man, but he’d been an influential part of our lives, whether good or bad.

“He’s gone,” I confirmed. Her head lowered in sadness, but no tears fell. I didn’t blame her for not crying. Samara’s relationship with her dad was nonexistent. I hated she would never be able to get closure now, but that was the way shit went sometimes. We sat in silence for a minute. I didn’t know what to say.

“They said I can be discharged in a few days.” She broke the silence between us.

“I already found us a house. I figured my place was a no, and yours is too damn small.”

“A new place?” She sounded hesitant. We’d discussed this in Haiti and agreed to go at her pace but after everything that had happened, it was a no-brainer now. I needed Samara in a place where I could keep her safe. A nigga was scared to let her out of his sight. Her facial expressions changed, and I knew she was about to say some shit that was gon’ piss me off.

“I don’t want to stay in Miami.”

“I know. That’s why I found us a house in Coral Springs.”

“No, like I don’t want to live in Florida at all. I want to get as far away from here as possible. Like somewhere people don’t know me as a London.”

I stared at her. I ain’t want to say the wrong thing. Fabian’s words were echoing in my ear. I couldn’t make her do anything. Instead of telling her we were moving into the house in Coral Springs, and that was that, I tried something different. Just listening.

“Tell me what’s going in that pretty head of yours?”

“What if they come back?” she whispered. The fear in her eyes had me ready to retrieve Ashton and Julez’s bodies from the ocean and kill their asses again. I squeezed her hands tighter.

“They gone, Samara. They not coming back either. I made sure of that.”

“But someone else will be plotting on us and looking for your weaknesses. People think our lives are perfect when we are just as fucked up as everybody else.”

She had valid concerns. Samara never wanted to be involved in this lifestyle. Now she’d been kidnapped and shot due to it. I was the man with all the answers, but I struggled to find the right thing to say to ease her mind.

“Baby girl, whatever I got to do to make you feel safe again, I’ll do it.” I was willing to do anything. I’d blow this motherfucking city up if I had to.

“Leave the cartel.”

Not that , I thought.

“We’ll increase security around you. Move as far away as workable, but leave the cartel, Samara. That’s unrealistic you know that.”

“Why? You said yourself you never wanted to be Capo. Move away with me. We can start a new life. A regular life.”

I stared at Samara. I wanted to scoop her up out of this hospital bed and run away with her, but shit wasn’t that simple.

“Samara, it ain’t that easy. The cartel is weak right now from all this bullshit. I have to work around the clock to get everything back on track. I can’t just leave.”

She stared at me, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her chest was caving in from her sporadic breathing.

“When I leave the hospital and get better, I’m leaving. I’m getting as far away from this hellhole as possible, with or without you.”

“Samara,” I called softly, begging her to change her mind. “Don’t make me choose. I love yo’ ass.”

“If it’s even a choice, you’ve already given me your answer. Please go.”

“Baby girl, come on. You’re getting all worked up over nothing.” I was trying to reason with her.

“It’s something to me!” she yelled. “Please go, Demetrius.”

Slowly, I turned around on my scooter and left her room. I was pissed, but I wouldn’t do this with her right now. She was recovering.

“I love you, Samara. That ain’t gon’ change,” I said before I exited her room. She was traumatized. She just needed a few days.

Four Months Later

“Are you coming, bruh?” Polo asked as soon as I swung open the front door of the condo I’d been staying at.

“By the way this nigga look, I’m gone go with no.” Royale came around the corner, revealing that he, too, was a part of this mission. I glanced at their asses, annoyed. I didn’t know why these niggas had popped up over here attempting to drag me to Samara’s going away dinner. They knew damn well I wasn’t going. Going away dinners were supposed to be a happy occasion. There was nothing happy about Samara leaving.

“I told you niggas on the phone, no.” I huffed. I thought I would breeze past this day, but here they were. I moved away from the door and headed toward the couch, plopping down.

“So, you just gon’ let her go?” Royale questioned, hovering over me. I stared at him. I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. It had been four months since Samara had put me out of her hospital room. I thought she needed a few days to cool down, but she was standing on business. She didn’t want anything to do with this lifestyle anymore. Now, she was going through with her plan to leave Florida.

“Yeah, who am I to stop her?” I shrugged. I was ready for these niggas to leave. I had just called one of the strippers from the club to come over and keep my mind off Samara.

“I don’t know… her fucking husband, maybe?” Royale replied. He’d been on my bumper about stopping Samara from leaving. I didn't know if it was because he didn’t want to see his sister go or if he was rooting for our relationship. Either way, he’d been preaching for me to end this.

“Bruh, I don’t be in yo’ business, but come on. This is some ho shit. Get yo’ ass up and go get your fucking wife. This ain’t even like you,” Polo fussed.

“I’m in a new era. I’m not forcing myself on anybody. I’m good.”

“Yeah, whatever. You scared, nigga.” Royale sat down next to me. “You doing the same shit you did with Navaeh, running.”

“This ain’t nothing like that. I didn’t even love Navaeh.” I waved him off.

“I guess you don’t love my sister either?”

“You know I do.”

“I can’t tell,” he replied. A weird silence fell over us. I appreciated my boys coming, but my mind was already made up.

“You know, I never thanked you for stepping in and taking over my duty to the cartel. I never apologized either. I didn’t consult you on the matter. I just handed you off my burden like a fucking gift. I’m sorry, bro.”

I stared at Royale. I didn’t know where that had just come from. He didn’t consult me before naming me head of the cartel, but he didn’t need to. I had his back, whether I wanted the responsibility or not.

“I’m sorry too, bro. If you ever thought you had to make certain decisions because of me, I’m good, bro,” Polo added. I stared at them both. Two apologies I never expected because I never knew I needed them. I knew what they were trying to do... Give me an out. I didn’t know if I was ready to say goodbye to the only profession I’d known.

“I appreciate y’all, but the cartel isn’t a burden. This is my life. If Samara wanted me, she’d understand that.”

Royale stood from the couch with a disappointed look on his face.

“This is the part where you have to make a decision.”

“We’ll be at the party, nigga,” Polo added as they walked out, leaving me in my thoughts. Grabbing my phone, I shot Raina a text, canceling her visit. I wasn’t in the mood anymore. I had a lot of shit to figure out.

Samara

Two weeks later

I stared at my empty apartment. It had been four months since I’d been released from the hospital. A bittersweet weight lifted from my shoulders as I stood in what used to be my living room. I hadn’t been here in a while. When I was first released, I went to Monroe and Royale’s house. When I was a little better, I went to Rebecca’s. I didn’t want to come here or anywhere near Demetrius. After our dispute at the hospital, I had him moved to my banned visitor’s list. What happened to me wasn’t his fault, but my brain at the time didn’t see it that way.

He came to get me settled at Royale’s and delivered my things to Rebecca’s, but he didn’t speak to me, and I didn’t push it. It was most likely for the best.

Today was the day. I was finally freeing myself of the endless cycle of drugs, crime, and drama that seemed to haunt me since I was born. Miami wasn’t my scene anymore. As long as I was here, I’d be associated with the London Cartel, and I didn’t want to go through that anymore. Grabbing the white envelope on the counter, I glanced at my apartment one last time. I had one stop to make before my flight left.

I pulled up to the divorce lawyer’s office to seal the deal on the last thing that bound me to the cartel. My marriage to Demetrius. Fortunately, I still had the papers he’d signed before his accident. Climbing out of the car, I took a deep breath. I was ready for a fresh start. Pushing open the door, I froze.

“Took yo’ pretty ass long enough, baby girl,” Demetrius said. He was sitting on top of the receptionist’s desk. It was the only area in the room not covered with roses. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Demetrius was the last person I expected to see here. Quickly, I glanced toward the street. An old-school Cutlass was parked directly across the street. He was tracking me. I should have known.

I wanted to curse him out. He didn’t get to do this, disappear for four months, and ruin my fresh start—not after choosing himself. My emotions were overflowing. When I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t deny the love in them. I couldn’t deny the love I had in my heart for him.

“This is the last time I’m going to track you, promise.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I don’t want a divorce, baby girl.”

“It’s not about what you want, Demetrius.”

“You’re right. It’s about what you want. I’m out. It’s done. The London Cartel is no more.”

My mouth dropped at his confession.

“We can start over together.”

A whirlwind of emotions flooded me. I was so tired of this lifestyle, but seeing him there, laying it all out, made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

“I’m not too late, am I, baby girl?” He approached me as he lowered to one knee.

“Samara London, the first time you asked me, but that didn’t make the journey any less valid. I love you, girl. You are every fucking thing to me. You came into my life and made me see better for myself. I want to be better for you. For all the little crumb snatchers we’re going to have. You saw the man in me before I saw that nigga in myself. So, would you do me the honor of not divorcing me and being my wife for real this time?”

I was speechless as tears rolled down my cheeks.

“Come on, baby girl. Don’t leave me down here. I’m creasing my Forces and shit.”

“You’re really done? The cartel... It’s no more?”

He nodded his head.

I didn’t respond to him as I lowered myself down to the ground with him. He pulled me in, and our lips collided.

“Yes, Demetrius. I want to be your wife.” I nodded my head. He didn’t waste any time pulling the divorce papers from my hand and tearing them up right in front of me.

"We ain’t ever getting a divorce, baby girl. I love you."

“I love you too.”

I sniffled as he held me close. At that moment, I hoped we could leave all the mess behind us and start anew. We kissed, leaving all the hurt and mistakes in the past.

“Where we going?” he questioned.

“I was headed to Richmond, Virginia.” His face twisted up.

“Richmond?”

“What? I needed a clean, drama-free place.”

“What about Haiti? I’m kind of the new CEO of Augustine Brew.” He held up a Haitian business license.

“Oh wow. Congratulations, Mr. CEO.”

I barely got my sentence out before Demetrius swooped me up swiftly. He stood with me, cradled me in his arms, and carried me bridal style out of the office.

“Haiti it is.” I giggled.

“Let’s go start our new life, baby girl.”

“Wait, my plane ticket is for Richmond.”

“We fly private.”

“Regular people don’t fly private, Demetrius.”

“We not a part of the cartel anymore, but it’s never giving regular, baby girl. Yo’ husband got his investments and shit.”

“I guess.”

He carried me to a black SUV and sat me inside the passenger seat before climbing into the driver’s seat. As we hit the open road, I knew every day wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth it. For the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe, just maybe, we could make our marriage work.

“Tell me your secrets, baby girl,” Demetrius requested as he took off toward the landing strip.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby girl.”