Page 131 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

The therapist’s words were helpful, especially considering what I had planned for this weekend.

Last night, my friends and I gathered at the warehouse to unwind. It was great to have that time to discuss our plan.

Cloaked in all black, with my head hung low, I stood alone in the center of the quiet street lined with cars. The hoodie shielded the sides of my face from the harsh October Chicago winds.

I peeked at the house behind me - a pile of rubble and twisted metal, a stark reminder of what used to be there.

My eyes darted up at the house across from the rubble, a sly grin creeping onto my lips. I pushed my hands into my hoodie pocket and strode casually down the street.

When I reached the second house, two houses away from where the playhouse once stood, I paused. My fingers tightened around the detonator. With a smirk curling my lips, I pressed the button.

The explosion echoed loudly through the early morning silence, setting off car alarms and causing me to jolt involuntarily. But despite the impact of the blast, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline course through me.

“Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?” I chuckled to myself as I continued on my way.

Sliding into the rear passenger seat of the unmarked black Expedition, I buckled in. Ezra’s hands gripped the wheel as he maneuvered us away from the scene. In the third row, Bianca tapped furiously at her keyboard.

“The neighborhood cameras are on a loop,” Bianca reported, her voice calm.

“Perfect,” I replied, reaching into my duffel bag. I retrieved my AR-fifteen, slinging the strap over my shoulder. My gloved hand rested on the rifle as my gaze shifted to Asia to my left. Her black hoody hid her fresh auburn-colored tiny, long braids that were pulled back in a low ponytail. She’d flown in early yesterday morning with back up. She sent her bodyguards to pick up her hair braider. Shenika was real hood. So she wasn’t scared of the danger that surrounded us. Asia paid her paid handsomely for discretion. Shenika was driven to the warehouse blindfolded and wore headphones so she couldn’t hear what was going on around her. We had to be careful when bringing people to the warehouse. Only those we trusted could openly know where it was located.

Simone sat in the front passenger seat, her husband Ezra’s protective presence palpable even as he focused on the road. This wasn’t just a team—it was family. A tight-knit unit built on loyalty, trust, and survival.

As much as I longed to think about my handsome husband, I couldn’t afford distractions. My mind had to stay focused on the imminent threat of Tyra and her crew.

“Fuck,” Ezra growled, glancing through the rearview mirror. “We have company. Girls, brace yourselves.”

The SUV lurched forward, my seatbelt digging into me as we were rammed from behind.

“Everyone okay?” Ezra asked, his voice tight.

“We’re good,” Asia answered for the group, her tone steady.

“Ezra, make a left at the next light,” Bianca instructed.

Asia and I pulled our skull masks over our faces and grabbed our AR-fifteens out of our duffel bags.

A silent nod passed between us before we rolled down our windows.

“Brock, come in, please.”

“Tori, go ahead.”

“Hold your position,” I ordered.

“Okay,” he responded.

Leaning out the window, I peered through the scope. The smell of smoke lingered as I pulled the trigger, but the bullets ricocheted off its reinforced body.

Shit, it’s not the end of the world.

“Brock, we’re coming in hot,” I announced.

I reached into my bag, pulling out a grenade. With a swift pull of the pin, I lobbed it under the pursuing vehicle.

The explosion sent the SUV soaring into the air, a fiery mushroom cloud billowing into the sky.

Ezra wasted no time turning where Bianca had directed him.

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