Page 24 of Bodyguard My Heart
“Let the streets think I’m dead.” I used my shirt to catch the tears that had fallen for Fabian.
“That’s smart. It’ll expose whoever the fuck thinks they got one up on us,” Royale stated.
“Exactly.”
“Where y’all gon’ go, nigga?” Polo questioned.
“I gotta do this shit right. I need to deliver the news about Fabian to Gran and Pop in person.”
“You going to Haiti? How you gon’ get there? You can’t use the private plane,” Polo questioned.
“We almost to Bristol City. You still talk to that girl who works for TSA?”
I referenced Polo’s on-again, off-again situationship. Tika was as ratchet as they came, and she wasn’t afraid to break the law. We’d used her before to make fake boarding passes for runners. If anyone could help us get to Haiti undetected, it was her.
“I haven’t, but I guess I have to. You know where to meet her?”
“Of course.” I nodded my head. We didn’t know who we could trust right now but going through Tika was worth the shot.
“We use nothing but burner phones from here on out. We don’t know if our shit is tapped. Hit us up on this number when y’all get to Haiti,” Polo stated.
“And take care of my sister, nigga!” Royal shouted in the background.
“It’s me, Ro. You already know I got her.” The call disconnected, and Samara pulled out of the gas station parking lot.
“Get back on the highway,” I directed Samara. “We need to leave the country ASAP.”
“Um… Okay, just tell me where to go.” I stared at her in the mirror. Our eyes locked briefly. I was expecting a rebuttal. Some smart mouth ass statement. I wasn’t expecting her to go along with it so easily.
“What?” she questioned, noticing how I was eyeing her.
“Nothing, how you feel about meeting the rest of my family?”
7
Samara
I pulled the rental car we’d gotten from the airport in front of an interesting looking blue house that sat alone at the end of a dirt road. When Demetrius said we were going to his great-grandmother’s house in Haiti to lay low, this was not at all what I pictured. I thought it wouldn’t be too different from Miami, but it looked like we’d arrived at someone’s farmhouse in Mississippi. My head swiveled all around, taking in my surroundings. Everything was vibrant but still southern and rustic. The exotic flowers and swaying palm trees gave the only inkling that we were on an island thousands of miles away from home. It was crazy how quickly our lives had changed. One minute, I was crying over Demetrius signing the divorce papers, and now, I was in Haiti with him, preparing to meet the family he barely spoke of.
“I can go knock on the door and see if someone can come help you inside.” I stared out the window. We couldn’t sit out here forever.
“Nah,” he said as he stared at the floor. The heaviness of the reason we were here was taking a toll on him, and I understood why. The London Cartel was under attack. He was injured, andhis cousin was dead. His life was spiraling out of control. The entire flight over here he was silent. Deep in thought, he was probably trying to figure out his next move. I didn’t know how to support him right now. I didn’t know if he wanted me to. I just stayed quiet, rubbed his back, and tended to his wound.
“Are you at least ready to go inside?” I questioned. It had been days since I’d showered, and I was eager to get out of this pajama set and comb my hair.
“Yeah,” he replied.
I exited the car, grabbing his crutches from the back seat. It was too soon after surgery for him to be trying to walk but arguing with him about it would be pointless. He was still going to do what he wanted to do. I figured once he stood and that pain shot through his abdomen, he would be singing a different tune. Demetrius opened the passenger-side door and swung his feet out as I propped both crutches on the side of his body.
“Try to stand, but move slowly,” I instructed as he stood up.
“Aww, fuck!” He grunted in pain as he steadied himself.
“Demetrius. You shouldn’t be doing this. You can bust a stitch.”
“Good thing you’re a nurse, huh?” his smart mouth ass replied.
“A nurse not a doctor.”