Page 41 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

“Got it, Ritchie,” Ezra said. He turned to the right in the oversized parking lot littered with cars in almost every row.

Catch chose a popular restaurant. Good. Maybe we can apprehend the assholes before we have to wreak havoc.

Brock drove down the main aisle toward the front door of the restaurant. I scoured the cars for suspicious characters.

My eyes landed on an SUV with tinted windows.

“Brock, stop at the door and let me out,” I stated, sliding the muzzled Glocks into my shoulder holsters inside my blazer.

A dark cap, a black blazer, and charcoal grey cargo pants really wasn’t my look, but we were in a hurry. I didn’t have time to climb into a suit. So I improvised. If it were cold outside, I’d conceal an AR fifteen inside a full-length coat. The old school gangster ways worked very well.

“Ritchie, please be careful,” Tori stated from the back seat. Worry was heavy in her tone.

“I will, baby.”

Opening the door, I ran a hand down the front of the blazer. “Brock, keep my woman safe. “

“I will, boss.”

I closed the door and walked down the aisle at the rear of the SUV.As I strolled along, I peeked into the parked cars.

Four men sat in a sedan. Curls of smoke left the windows. The strong scent of weed wafted through the air. Smelled like a skunk had lifted its tail.

“So far, I may have found two vehicles,” I whispered so only my men could hear over the earpiece.

“We have a problem, Ritchie,” Romeo stated.

“A group of men entered the back door.”

“Shit. Follow them but keep a low profile,” I ordered.

They thought they’d brutally attack my cousin and his fiancée. They didn’t know Catch was always ready for trouble.

I walked alongside the SUV I saw earlier, gripping a Glock behind my back. My heart slammed against my ribcage. Their windows were tinted like ours; they could see out, but someone walking by couldn’t see inside. My knuckles rattled against the driver’s side window. This wasn’t safe. I didn’t have backup.

My heart felt like it beat inside my throat.

The window lowered. A sawed-off shotgun stared back at me. The dark-skinned driver gripped the weapon tighter as he stared at me with a menacing scowl.

From my peripheral I noticed the back seat was empty.

“What the fuck you want, white boy?” The driver bit out.

“I have a flat tire.” I pointed across the lot.

“I was just looking to borrow a jack.”

The passenger narrowed his eyes. “Hey, you’re the motherfucker who kidnapped Rosco.”

Fuck, I thought we killed all of his men. And how would they know how to find us?

I knew who the culprit was.

“Again, I’m just looking for a jack.” I took a step back, raised my Glock, and pulled the trigger. One of the bullets hit the driver’s chest before he could get a shot off. Nothing fatal. The sound of my silencer wasn’t noticeable. My eyes widened as the passenger raised his gun just as the woman standing on the other side of the SUV yanked at the car door, causing a distraction.

My woman was definitely my prized possession.

He kept his Glock steady on me.

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