Finding My Bodyguard (The Bodyguard Series Book 1)

by A. Blossom

I repeated each word. My heart beat fast as I slid the ring completely on his finger. London mouthed thank you as the officiant handed him my ring and began reciting his vows. The moment London opened his hand and revealed the beautiful, diamond studded band I nearly fainted. I wasn’t expecting something this fancy. He had already gone all out on the ring. My eyes filled and tears that had been pooling finally released. London grabbed my left hand and slid the ring on my finger. “I, Royale, take you to be my wife. I want us to create our life together with honesty and compassion, from this day forward.”

“It is my pleasure to pronounce you man and wife. You're officially married and may seal your union with a kiss.” London wasted no time pulling me close and planting his lips onto mine. Cheers and claps rang out, but we were in our own little world. As our tongues swirled, I found it harder and harder to accept this marriage was to be only on paper. It felt as if I had just married the love of my life.

“London. Oh my God, you scared me.” My heart sank at the thought of Monroe being worried about me. I never wanted her to be worried about anything anymore. “I’m good, Chocolate. My calls drop in here sometimes.” I lied for probably the first time in my life.

Opening the security app on my phone, I quickly swiped to my safe house bedroom. Monroe was lying on the bed with her face in her hands. The realization that she was crying fucked me up. Pressing the speaker, I called her name. “Monroe!” Her head darted up, and her eyes roamed the room. “I’m sorry, Chocolate. I’m sorry. I’m not a liar, but I lied. I ain’t want you to be doing what you doing right now.” I sighed before continuing. “I could say I didn’t know she was gon’ be here, but I did. Bri and I used to have a weekly meet up. With everything going on, I just forget to tell her ass not to show up.” Monroe looked around the room. Her head rose and fell again. Her mouth opened and closed. “The apology isn’t needed. We’re not really married, Royale. This is business, right? You can do what you want. I hope you didn’t put her out on the account of me.”

“Nah!” I yelled back. “Answer the phone, so we can talk this out like adults.” I dialed her number again. This time, her soft voice glided through the phone. “Yes, Royale?” “Aye, stop calling me that,” I warned. She didn’t say anything. Her breathing was the only way for me to know she was still on the phone. “Ask what’s making you feel uncomfortable,” I instructed. We might as well get it all out in the open. “Who is she?” “Her name’s Briana. She was a friend.” “And you have sex with her?” “I used to. Last Thursday was the last time,” I answered honestly.

“Why can’t I have both? My freedom and you?” Her question was simple, but I ain’t have an answer for her. It had only been two days since we’d met. We shouldn’t be having this conversation. The feelings we felt for each other we shouldn’t be feeling, but we were. “Maybe you can, Chocolate.” I sighed. “But let’s start with your freedom first.” The line fell quiet, and her head dropped. Monroe was special. I knew that, but she didn’t and that was the problem. "You need to get the experience of being alone—eating alone, sleeping alone, dating yourself. Making your own choices. Those are the only things that will allow you to grow, Chocolate.” I checked the screen to gauge if she was actively listening. I needed her to be listening because I needed her to do the things I was speaking of. Her eyes were back on mine, holding my gaze, so I continued. “You need time to learn yourself, to learn what inspires you, to learn your hopes and dreams, to figure out your boundaries.” I paused, trying to figure out the right words for the last thing I wanted to say. “Monroe, baby, when you do all that and when you’re healed, you better believe I’ma be there with open arms, waiting for you to choose a nigga. Not because I’m the only nigga that’s ever treated you like you deserve or because I be digging yo’ fucking guts out, but choose me because you know who the fuck Monroe is and how I fit into your life.” I could hear her breathing get heavy. I hoped she was taking in everything that I had...

The moment I flicked on the lights I knew something felt different. The inviting scent of fresh flowers filled my nose, and I spotted a beautiful bouquet of red roses and a gift box lying on the counter. Shock filled me as I moved closer. A slight smile appeared on my face while I read the card on the roses. Chocolate, You’re a working woman now. Congratulations on your first day of work. - London

I picked up the gift box and removed the lid. A book on healing from family trauma stared back at me. My heart skipped a beat as I combed my fingers through the pages. I’d asked him to heal me, and this was his response. Some women would be offended, but I was in awe of his effort. As I strummed through the book, a brown note fell out and into the palm of my hand. My eyes scanned the message. You asked me to heal you, but I can’t. I can only offer my hand to hold while you heal yourself. I glazed over the message a few more times, allowing it to seep into my soul. London was truly unlike any other man I’d ever encountered, and I honestly didn’t know how to proceed. A small arrow in the corner of the paper told me to flip it over. This time instead of the typed cursive font the message was handwritten. Go get dressed. I’m taking you on a self-care date. First door on the left.

“Should I knock?” I asked myself as I stared at the white door. My hand moved back and forth between turning the knob to tapping on the door. Deciding I didn’t want to startle anyone if some awaited me, I knocked. When I received no response, I turned the doorknob. Tears instantly slipped from my eyes. “Oh my God!” I gasped as I spun slowly around the room taking it all in. Every wall was covered from floor to ceiling in books. London had made me a little home library. My mouth dropped, and my hand flew to my lips in a pure state of disbelief. There had to be over two hundred titles in here. My feet guided me around the room, and my hand touching the spines of every book I could reach. Some of the titles were familiar and some weren’t. I walked the length of the shelves until I reached a fuzzy rug that housed a cozy looking recliner.

Because you said reading brings you peace. This date is with your peace.

“Yes, just make sure your weekly whore is canceled this time.” I giggled, but I was serious. “Everybody been canceled, Chocolate.” His voice was firm, and the smile that was plastered on his face had me speechless.

“On Monday for her first appointment. I took her a refund check that night to her hotel. Did you check there?” Any nigga with common sense would have pulled the security footage by now. Knowing I was on it, I offered the information before he’d asked. “Fuck!” he cursed just as a text came through my phone. I glanced at it seeing Monroe’s name flash on the screen. She’d sent me another picture. I opened the text thread fast as fuck. I wasn’t ready for the image that popped up on my screen. Monroe sat in the chair holding a strawberry to her beautiful lips. She had just the right amount of titties showing. The message she sent said, ‘thank you for dinner’. My dick jumped at the sight of her, and a grin appeared on my face as I texted her back. Me: You got your delivery.

“Man, I treat her ass like a queen. She got it good. She doesn’t work or do shit. Just sit on her ass, gain weight, and spend my money.” My fists balled underneath the table. It was taking everything in me not to punch his ass in the face. My phone dinged again. Monroe had texted back. Wife: Yes, I love seafood and the fruit platter is everything! Thank you! Me: Anything for your healing. I wasn’t a smiling ass nigga, but Monroe had me cheesing hard. I stared down at the phone waiting for her to respond like a desperate ass nigga.

“Her father in the business?” “Yeah… Jacob Iris. He founded the black mafia organization back in Bristol.” “And you're engaged to his daughter?” Monroe sent another picture. This time she was topless, reading a book. My eyes damn near popped out of their sockets. Me: You’re so fucking beautiful. “Yeah, the biggest crime family in Bristol City, and I’m going to be the head of it all. The nigga dying, and he needs an heir. All I have to do is marry his daughter, and what I do? I fucking lose her.” Kashus dropped his face between his hands. Monroe’s father was dying. That explained why he’d chosen Kashus as her husband. He was desperate to find someone capable of carrying on his legacy. My heart immediately went out to Monroe. In everything she’d confided in me about her father, his dying wasn’t one of them.

“Damn; he got cancer or something?” I exited from Monroe’s text thread and shot Meechie an emergency text. I needed this meeting with Jacob Iris scheduled as soon as possible. Finding out about his failing health changed things. “Skin cancer or some shit.” He informed me. I dropped my head. I was dreading having to break this news to Monroe. As fucked up as her father was, he was still her father and all she had left in the world. This news would devastate her. My phone vibrated and another message from Monroe came through. Wife: Thank you. 5535756856

“Yeah, man. I was pissed I had to climb out her sweet ass pussy to come here and deal with this shit.” I shot back

“Let me ask you this: If you're just helping a friend, then why are you wearing the ring?” I smirked at her observation. I could always count on my sister to call me out on my bullshit. “I may be a little more invested,” I admitted, causing Samara to squeal. “You love her, don’t you?” I didn’t get a chance to answer her as my phone vibrated. Meechie was finally giving me a call back.

“This Meechie. I have to take this call.” I signaled for Samara to leave. “Well since we dropping secrets, I’ve been secretly dating Demetrius. Tell him I said hi.” She stood from the loveseat and exited my office before I could say anything. Now it was my turn to drop my mouth. I didn’t know how to feel about Samara fucking with my best friend. It was a lot to process and I didn’t have time to worry about that right now. Right now, my attention was on Monroe. “Yeah, nigga?” Mechie answered the call. “You fucking my sister?” I couldn’t hold it in. “Look, nigga. I was gon’ tell you when shit got more serious. Samara been having me chasing her ’round playing games for months.”

“Come on now; you know how I roll. We meet with him tomorrow night. He doesn’t want to leave his home. So we gotta go to Bristol.” He confirmed. “I guess we going to Bristol.” I disconnected the call. Was I ready to trade my freedom for Monroe’s? That question was going to keep me up all night.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Dancing is a great form of self-care.” “I can see why. I never felt so free.” “Freer than when you cumming on my dick?” “Yes.” I lied. “Don’t talk about your dick. I’ve been drinking, and I get horny.” There was so much lust and need in my words.

“Touch her for me.” His voice was low and dark. “The driver,” I protested. “Roll up the partition.” I didn’t think twice before touching the button and allowing the glass to seclude me in the back of the car. “Touch her. I want to know what you are learning about yourself,” he commanded, and I found myself spreading my legs and pushing my panties to the side. I ran my finger across my pearl, and a moan escaped my mouth. “That’s right.”

“You a nasty motherfucker.” Meechie grinned as I returned from the private plane bathroom. “You a nosy motherfucker!” I shot back, slapping him on his head as I walked past him to my seat.

“I’m invested.” I offered that as I buckled my seat belt to prepare for landing. “You falling for her, ain’t you? Y’all gon’ make this shit official?”

That time, he was posing a question. One that had been floating through my brain a thousand times. If I talked about my feelings for Monroe with anybody, it would be to Meechie. Like he’d said, he had been in my business since diapers. “Falling, nigga… Nah, I’m on the floor.” I admitted, and a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. “So y’all gon’ like take this marriage shit for real?” I shook my head. “Why not? What’s the holdup?” He threw his hands in the air.

“You got the recording?” I asked. Meechie nodded. “Sending it to yo’ phone now,” he replied. I smirked. Kashus Grant was easy to catch up. All it took was a few light-skinned big booty strippers to get him on a recording talking foul about Monroe and snorting cocaine up his nose. He planned to get her strung out on drugs after he took over her father's business. I already had plans to fuck him up, but now I was going to put two in his head. You ready to go talk to her pops?” Meechie asked just as the flight attendants opened the door.

“Royale London.” Mr. Iris greeted me as I entered the room. “I was confused when this meeting was requested, so I did some digging. You kidnapped my daughter and married her without my permission.” He’d done his research. I wasn’t surprised. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand.” He turned around, gun pointed at my head. I took in his appearance. He looked tired, no doubt, from the cancer. It had to have been months since Monroe had seen her father because if she had seen him like this, she would have known he was sick. Still, even in his ailing state, he exuded power. He reminded me a lot of my father.

“I’m only going to offer this one time. Annul the marriage and return my daughter to her rightful fiancé.” I chuckled at the way he thought he was in control. “I can’t do that. I promised my wife a better life, and I don’t break my promises.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone to play the recording of Kashus.

“You can keep Monroe. I’ll take care of Kashus if you replace me as head of my organization.” He was still using Monroe as a bargaining tool for his own benefit.

“I’m gon’ keep Monroe regardless. That’s my wife, and she's no longer your bargaining tool.” I stood, giving one last glance at Jacob Iris.

“Royale.” His voice barreled into the car speakers. “Yeah, Pop,” I answered him. “Return the girl,” he ordered. His voice was calm and menacing, as always. My father thought everyone was supposed to bend to his demands, which was exactly how he spoke.

“That girl you speak of is my wife. So, you can see why I can’t do that.” My father didn’t scare me. I was no longer the little boy that listened and obeyed. I was my own man. “A wife that you unlawfully obtained, Royale.” “I didn’t know stealing a nigga girl was an unlawful crime,” I joked, knowing it was pissing him off. “It’s a law of the streets. You know the code you turned your back on.”

“The cartel is not going to support you through no war over a girl!” “Last I checked, Pop, that wasn’t your decision,” I said before hanging up the phone. I didn’t have anything else to discuss with my father. He was still controlling the cartel, but Meechie was the acting boss. He didn’t need my father’s approval. He took his orders out of respect, not obligation. “Yo’ wars are my wars, bro.” Meechie turned to face me as he pulled out of the Iris estate. “Is that what he wants?”