Page 46 of Bodyguard My Heart

“It’s okay. I’ll go.” Samara spoke just above a whisper. “I refuse to let Fabian’s death go unanswered, and I love Haiti but am ready to get back to my normal life.”

“Bet. I guess we coming home.”

15

Samara

I stepped out of the car and made my way toward the jail entrance. It had been several years since I’d visited my father. He had nothing of value to offer when I came. It was always about what I could do to help him or his precious cartel, so I’d stopped coming.

I made my way through the parking lot, my sundress dragging the ground. There was this weird feeling gnawing at me, but I just chucked it up as nerves. I surveyed my surroundings, making a note of where security stood. Being back in Florida had me on edge. Demetrius had given me the speech about my safety a thousand times. He’d followed me in a black truck all the way here and would wait in a nearby hotel. I didn’t have security following me around. There was no Tahoe full of jump-out boys since we still weren’t sure if someone would make an attempt on my life. It was risky being here, but it would be worth it if my father could assist us in any way.

“Samara!” A familiar voice called my name, causing me to turn around fast as fuck. An immediate chill coursed through my body, and my lips parted in a silent surprise.

“Ashton?” I questioned. “What are you doing here?” I fumbled with my dress.

“I had to bring my brother out here to see his pops,” he explained. “Did you move? I stopped by your apartment last week. I have been calling you.” He was getting closer to me as he spoke. Something about this didn’t feel right. What really were the odds of him and me being here at the same time? The prison was about two hours outside of Miami. Now I was regretting leaving my phone in the car.

“I’ve been going through a lot. Staying with family,” I replied.

“Oh, trouble in paradise?” he uttered as he closed the last bit of space that was in between us. He was too close for comfort. I looked at the door and then at security as I slowly began inching away from him.

“Well, it was good seeing you,” I lied. “I better get in there.” I pointed toward the door.

“It was good seeing you too,” he replied. “Sorry about Meechie.”

His last statement made me hesitate a little as I turned back to look at him. A sly smirk was etched across his face. I hurried inside the jail, making a mental note to fill Demetrius in on Ashton. Maybe I should have let Demetrius kill him a long time ago. I breezed through the security checkpoint and made my way to the waiting area.

“Who are you here to see?” the woman at the front desk questioned.

“Mr. Matthew London.”

“Oh, he’s currently with a visitor. Would you like to wait? We can ask him if he’d like to cut the visit short.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll go on back,” I told the guard. My curiosity was piqued. Who was visiting my father? I walked into the visitation area, and my eyes roamed the room eagerly in search of my father. I wanted to see who was here. My eyes zeroedin on him instantly, sitting behind the protective glass. A man I’d never seen before sat across from him. They seemed to be immersed in conversation. Slowly, I approached the visitation booth. The moment my father noticed me, his eyes grew wide.

“Samara?” he mumbled. “Wow, it’s been years, sweetheart.”

I stared at him, not sure what to say. The strange man turned around, and immediately, I recognized him from one of Ashton’s social media videos. He was Ashton’s brother, but I couldn’t remember his name. I stood there, my eyes bouncing back and forth between my dad and Ashton’s brother, the words that Ashton had said on replay in my head. He was bringing his brother to talk to his pops. I could barely form words as I tried to understand it all.

“Samara, this is Julez.”

“What’s… g-going on?” I stumbled over my words.

“Have a seat, Samara. Join us,” my father instructed me. I didn’t want to sit. I wanted to run out of there and tell Demetrius what I was making sense of in my head. My father had another son. Instead, I sat next to the light-skinned man who favored Ashton and looked like a brighter version of Royale.

“Samara, this is your older brother, Julezua,” my father said nonchalantly as if he hadn’t just dropped a huge bomb on me.

“What? Come again?” My jaw damn near hit the floor at his words. “Brother?”

“Yes, your brother. I dated his mom back in the day. She was married, and so was I. She got pregnant, and we both agreed to get rid of it. I gave her money for an abortion, and she disappeared. I never saw her again. Julez came looking for me a few years ago after his mom passed.”

“I wanted to know my dad. My mom never mentioned who you were, but after she died, I found evidence that led me here,” Julez explained.

“Brother?” I repeated. I was still stuck on that part. “How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-eight,” Julez replied.

“Two years younger than Royale. Does Royale know about this?”