Page 13 of My Broken Bodyguard 2: Ritchie & Tori

“Get on the floor, Tori,” Ritchie ordered.

I stared, mouth agape, my swollen lips quivering. My voice cracked as I begged, “Please don’t make me.” Tears streamed down my face.

Memories of Simone and me lying on the floor came rushing back. Bile rose in my throat.Rosco’s men slammed their boots into our petite bodies like we were bags of sand.

The driver swerved across the highway. The tatted man beside me leaned out the window, firing his weapon.

His eyes softened. “Baby, you have to understand. I’m just trying to keep you safe.”

“That’s right. My men are still coming. They won’t fucking stop coming for you motherfuckas,” Rosco yelled from the trunk.

I didn’t know he was in the trunk. That sick asshole. If bullets weren’t hurling past us, I’d climb back there and slam my fist into his face over and over again. Then I’d pee on that motherfucker. Now wasn’t the time to tell Ritchie about that horrific incident.

“Ok, I’ll get on the floor,” I said.

A truck pulled up on our left.

Before Ritchie could lower the window, a bullet whipped through the windowpane, and we were showered with pieces of shattered glass. I felt an immense burn searing my body.

“Tori,” Ritchie shouted as he aimed his Glock out the window, firing it at the truck full of Rosco’s men.

Ritchie clasped me tight against him with one arm while I tentatively touched the wound. Crimson blood appeared on my fingers. My eyelids felt heavy before they fell shut.

CHAPTER FIVE

RITCHIE

THE AWAKENING

Iignored the searing pain shooting through my bones and muscles as I released my woman’s lifeless body. Teeth clenched, I grabbed the AR-fifteen off the floor and unleashed a hail of bullets on the approaching truck at my rear, trying to intercept Catch.

“Brock and Catch, lock them in,” I ordered.

Brock held steady as Catch pushed their vehicle forward.

“You took everything from me. You’ll all die today,” I roared as one of my bullets shattered the windshield, penetrating the skull of the driver.

The passenger’s head hung awkwardly out the window, blood oozing from his mouth. One soldier in the back seat ducked behind the driver.

That move wouldn’t save him. I filled the driver’s dead corpse full of holes. At least one bullet hit the rear passenger. His body slumped back onto the seat as he aimed an AK-forty-seven in my direction. Leaning to the left, I peered through the scope and pulled the trigger. The bullet smacked his skull, causing it to whip back. His body collapsed on the seat next to the other dead guy, me or Catch, killed during the shootout.

“We’re in the clear, Ritchie,” Brock stated as he pulled off the exit ramp.

“Catch, how are we looking back there?” I asked as I pulled Tori’s unconscious body against my chest.

Anger racked my body. I wanted to reach behind the second row of seats and shoot that motherfucker Rosco in the head until there was nothing left of his face.

“We’re good. Let’s just get the fuck out of this state,” he sighed.

I tapped the earbud turning it off before my eyes moved over my woman’s battered face. She had to survive. There was no way I could be in this world without her. My lips brushed the faint pulse in her neck.

“Brock, Tori’s bleeding out. Get us to the jet fast.”

I placed a hand over the chest wound. Blood seeped through my fingers. “Baby, stay with me. Don’t fucking leave me,” I muttered.

“We’re pulling up now.” Brock hit the corner hard. I placed my hand on the driver’s headrest to keep from sliding across the seat.

Brock barely brought the truck to a stop as I pushed the door open, clutching my woman in my arms. I ran up the jet steps.

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