Page 12 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

He burst into laughter. “Help each other. I don’t give a fuck how you make it happen. Jeko is coming into the bathroom with you. He can assist you two.”

“No, we got it,” Simone clipped.

Not even a minute later, someone knocked on the family bathroom door. Jeko opened it, letting Rosco inside. It didn’t make sense to say a fucking word. Guess he had a thing with watching his women use the bathroom. The wordshis womansounded foreign on my tongue. I only belonged to Ritchie. I had to push the thought of my man to the back of my mind. Or I’d break. And I refused to appear weak in front of Rosco.

Rosco stepped in front of me while I hovered over the toilet, relieving myself. He unzipped his jeans and pulled his dick out.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I roared.

He released a stream of pee between my legs. His urine slipped down my mound.

He wore a huge smile. “I’m marking what’s mine.”

Rosco tucked himself back into his jeans. “Next, I’ll stick my dick in that fat pussy.”

Again, I remained silent. The last thing I wanted him to do was rape me in the grungy public restroom.

He glared at me, then squeezed my cheeks and planted his lips on mine. The entire time, my best friend stood close by clutching my arms so I wouldn’t fall. I hated she had to witness the degradation. But I rather he inflict his bull shit weirdness on me than on her.

“You can’t hide your face forever, Tori,” Ritchie’s deep sexy voice brought me back from my nightmare that had been reality less than an hour ago.

“Ritchie, I know.” I pushed my face into his side like I could disappear out of view if I could just tuck my face into his bulletproof vest.

“Talk to me, Ritchie,” I urged.

“My body’s in bad shape. Once we’re on the plane, I need to take the meds Uncle Arlis prescribed before I pass out.”

I swept a hand along his thick neck.“Ritchie, I tried not to think of you. Us.” Swallowing past the lump in my throat that felt like a glob of cotton, I continued.

“The new memories we shared would’ve broken me.”

Ritchie removed my hand from his neck and brought it to his soft lips. Tremors rocked my body.

“Look at me, Tori.”

I didn’t know how disfigured my face was. The wounds felt fresh. My skin burned underneath the bruises.

Conversations amongst the other people in the truck carried on. Which gave Ritchie and I a sense of privacy.

Removing my face from his vest, I turned my head upward.

Ritchie’s gorgeous face came into view.

His thick fingers traced a painful path over my bruised cheek, the anger simmered in his eyes like a storm. "Baby," he muttered, his voice a soothing balm to my battered soul.

Ritchie couldn't conceal his shock and revulsion. "How could he punch you in the face?" Disgust twisted his features into a mask of righteous anger.

“He’s a disgusting human being. Who shouldn’t be allowed to walk this earth, to hurt anyone else like this,” I bit out, my voice quivering with fury.

My protector, with a gentleness that belied his strength, cradled my face in his hands. His touch was a tender promise of safety, a beacon in the darkness. Then he leaned in and brushed his lips softly over mine, his eyes filled with a fierce determination. "Baby, he won't."

Gunfire rang out. The rear glass shattered.

“Ah,” the man to our right hollered.

I inched my head up, peering out the window with the one eye the fucker didn’t seal shut. “Shit, we have company.”

Ritchie wasted no time placing me on the seat between him and a muscled guy with jet black hair and a skull neck tattoo. Blood trickled down his arm. A bullet must’ve hit him.

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