Page 18 of Finding My Bodyguard

A tall lady with beige skin walked up and greeted us. “I didn’t know you were going to be making our Saturday drop-off from Vanessa’s.”

“It was last minute. I’m showing my lady friend around the island. I had to stop by and see the kids.

“Lady friend?” she questioned, her eyes growing big.

“Yes, Kamila, this is Monroe. Monroe, this is Kamila. She runs the shelter.”

“It’s nice to meet you. Will you all be joining us for breakfast?” she questioned.

“Another time. We just left Aunt V’s, and you know she fed us to death. I’ll be back by before I leave—maybe shoot some hoops with the kids,” London replied.

Kamila smiled. “They will love that. The kids love it when you visit.”

London shook Kamila’s hand, and we headed back out of the shelter and down the stairs. As the sun filled my line of vision and we strolled back onto the beach, I couldn’t help but think about how beautiful it all was. Everything about our morning had been beautiful. I was living in the moment… taking it all in. The sun was shining, the waves were crashing, and it felt like the whole world was mine for the taking.

London

Monroe was adjusting better than I thought she would. The last three days had gone by smoothly. All she wanted to do was get beautiful and explore the island, and I was finding joy in showing it to her. Every day that passed with her here in the villa confirmed that my impulsive decision to take her was the right one.

I pulled back a new layer of her damage each day. She was just starting to get out of the habit of asking me for permission. Monroe checked in with me about everything—what we would eat for dinner, where she should go, and how she should style her hair. Yesterday, she asked me if she could go out on the front porch. Her constant need to get every single decision approved showed me how damaged she was. It was so bad I made her swear to me that nigga hadn’t been putting his hands on her. She said he hadn’t, but physical abuse or not, the emotional and psychological abuse was apparent. It was even more reason why I was going to bury that nigga when it was time, and her father, too, for facilitating it.

“You gon’ tell me what’s really going on?” Aunt Vanessa interrupted my thoughts. I knew when she’d asked me to help take some things down to the shelter that she was going to bombard me with questions about Monroe.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” I shrugged as I placed the last box on the counter.

“Oh, you know, and you better get to talking.” Her arms were folded across her chest and her neck rolled. She meant business.

“I needed a vacation… figured I’d bring a friend.” I stared at her out of the corner of my eye. I was trying to gauge if that was satisfying enough.

“This not a vacation spot… lie again.” She tapped her foot on the floor, causing me to feel like a little knuckle head boy again. I stared at her, trying to figure out how to tell her about Monroe. It was no use in lying. If she was questioning it, she already knew something was up. Like she said, this wasn’t a vacation spot. This was my refuge.

“All right, so I’m helping Monroe out. She needed a place to stay for a while.”

“And you brought her here? Out of the country?” She twisted the corners of her mouth as if to call my bluff.

“Yeah.” I attempted to walk past her to the back door. The kids were outside shooting some hoops, and I had promised them a few games.

“Boy, if you don’t cut the crap. Is that girl in trouble or something? Are you in trouble?”

Deciding to fill Aunt Vanessa in on everything, I took a seat next to her. Maybe she could shine some wisdom on the situation that Meechie and Polo couldn’t.

“Monroe’s family believes in arranged marriages. She was arranged to be married to someone that didn’t mean her any good.”

Aunt Vanessa sat up on the couch. Her mouth opened and shut.

“I’m offering her an out.” I continued. “I brought her here to hide her from her fiancé and her father.”

“Royale.” She gasped. That probably wasn’t what she was expecting me to say.

“I know Aunt V.” I dropped my head.

“No, you don’t know! How long have you known this girl?”

“A day longer than you.”

“Royale, what the hell? Now I know your father and mother didn’t set a great example, but are you crazy? You got better sense than to bring a girl you just met here. What if this is all a setup? And if it’s not, do you know the consequences of interfering in something like that?” She was rightfully concerned. There were a lot of areas for concern.

“I considered all that, and I don’t care. I couldn’t leave her in that situation. He was going to force her to get work done on her body. The girl can barely decide for herself.”

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