Part 1.5

Part 1.5

I hope you're ready to hear about the worst few days of my life.

Marky was invited to meet with his father, and normally, bodyguards are supposed to wait outside the door.

Not with these absolute assholes.

I had to wait outside!

Next to the fucking car, like a goddamn…

Not only was I a babysitter, but I was also a fucking valet!

I’m sorry, that day brings back a few very hard feelings.

As I was saying, I was waiting outside next to the car.

Marky walked out with fucking Kennedy, with a new bodyguard.

The bitch walked past me as if I wasn’t even there.

Her toy this time was Sandra Steele.

I almost laughed as she kept her distance from Marky.

Like a good boy, I opened the door for the lady and children.

The ride to their ‘date’ was the quietest and most awkward ride I had ever had.

In my boredom, I scanned Sandra.

Here is something you would never hear a merc say out loud.

She is fucked up.

She had multiple organ implants, as well as what we call a first aid bladder.

That little fucker was inside of her stomach where a womb should have been.

What that does is it stores meds so that they can be administered when you need them, and it keeps your hands free.

There were all kinds, for painkillers, blood thinners or adrenaline.

My guess was cancer, and she was trying to stay ahead for some reason.

I made a mental note to help her as much as I could.

While I tried my best to appear noble, the driver let us know that we were approaching the restaurant.

I did some research on this place.

It was called La Libre.

What was it with the ultra-rich and either plain or dumb names?

They didn’t allow mercs, and I would have to stand outside the car again.

That shit happened twice in one day, but at least I had some free time to think of my plan.

I assure you that the plan was moving as anticipated.

I just want to get there before I explain it in detail.

As I was working through my plans, Sandra started a conversation.

“Why are you working for that… person?”

The level of venom in her voice made the trip bearable.

I answered as Milton would.

“The money’s good, why do you work for Miss Kennedy?”

She let out a long sigh and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

She offered one to me, and I shook my head.

“No thanks, Miss Steele.”

As she lit her cigarette, she chuckled.

“Miss Steele? You don’t have to be so formal, Mister Adams.”

She leaned against the car, and I decided to let the formality slip just a little.

“Ok, Sandra, it is.”

She smiled and kept talking.

“I heard about the club. It takes balls to go against one of them.”

I shrugged.

“I’m a bodyguard, not a hitman.”

If this were a movie, that would have been the part where I would wink at the camera.

She laughed as she blew out a big cloud of smoke.

“I wish I had half the balls you have.”

She trailed off at the end as she walked to the other side of the car.

For the next few days, we would escort the ‘couple’ to different clubs or restaurants.

If you were there, you would see a sea of luxury cars with bored bodyguards.

It was a blast.

For some reason, Sandra never talked to me after that first night.

She was an absolute professional the entire time.

I wondered if I could have been a bodyguard instead of what I am.

I shook those thoughts out of my head because I had a plan.

A plan that came to fruition on the last day of their ‘courtship’.

Here is what I did.

I put out a hit on Kennedy, but to only one man.

A British gangster called Peakey.

He was an idiot who managed to get stranded here a few years ago.

The pay was one hundred thousand and a ticket back to his city of choice.

One night, as they exited the event I can’t remember the name of, I made sure I was on the exit’s side of the car.

I had an eye on the wannabe hitman and slowly made my way closer to my wards.

As the Brit pulled out his gun, I was already moving.

To my surprise and absolute luck, the dumbass yelled in a British accent.

“Take this, ya bitch!”

I managed to grab Kennedy and place myself between her and the bullets.

I felt four or five hard punches to my back before Sandra ended the guy's attempt.

When I let her go, the confident debutante was replaced by a crying girl.

I turned to Sandra and yelled.

“Get Miss Kennedy to the car!”

I looked over and saw Marky hide behind the car.

That was obviously what he would do.

Milton ran behind the car, and I grabbed Marky behind the neck, and we dove into the car.

The driver sped off, and I pretended to look Marky over.

“Are you hurt anywhere, sir?”

He patted himself over for a moment and smiled with a thumbs-up.

I looked over to Sandra and Kennedy.

If I didn’t know how evil this chick was, I would feel sorry for her.

She was bawling in Sandra’s arms while Marky was ignoring her.

After the girl stopped crying, I thought it would be a good time for Milton’s tactical mind to kick in.

“Sandra. Is it just me, or was that guy Commonwealth?”

She did pause for a moment, and she nodded.

“I think so. Why would a Brit try something?”

I shrugged while I was thinking of ways I could capitalise on what happened.

My thoughts were interrupted by Sandra.

“You got hit a few times, are you ok?”

With a half smile, I nodded.

“Yeah, this coat has three layers of Dragonscales. I probably do have some bruised ribs.”

She smiled for a moment and turned her attention back to her employer.

On the inside, I was patting myself on the back.

The plan went off without a hitch.

Now, what you should know is that if Kennedy had died that night, it would have ruined my planned timeline.

That is why I had a plan B that I didn’t need.

I still laugh sometimes at how that Brit yelled out like it was a cartoon or something.

He made it so much easier to pin Marky’s murder on Smythe.