The Bodyguard

8

Taking of my clothes, I go straight into the shower.
"Who the hell does he think he is?" I scoff, as I remember how rude he sounded. "He's not even all that, I wonder what guy could be attracted to such a horrible personality. I shouldn't have saved him that day. I always end up making the worst mistakes. Shit!" I yell as the water stops rushing. The water bill was due for payment. I massage my temples, distraught. I stretch my hand to the towel rack and get my towel. I tie it around my soapy body and head to the mini dining area. I take my suit pants and bring out my phone. I sigh. Would it be a good idea to call Benji to borrow some money? Yes, I'd feel embarrassed but Benji wasn't someone who'd look down on me or make me feel a certain type of way because he rendered me some financial assistance. Pathetic, Drea.

I head to the sink and thankfully, there's a half a big bottle of water standing on it. I sigh, relieved that I didn't have to spend the day sticky. I hurriedly reach for it and head back to the bathroom.

***
"Hey, pal!" I put my head into Benji's car as he winds down.

He sighs. "You could just come back, you know. She's gonna take you back. All you have to do is apologize. Her ego's hurt."

"Come on now, Benji. I'm over it. I'll only return, if she asks for me to. Besides, I asked you here for a favor."

"Well, get to the point. I've got to get Marilyn from her painting class. She'll be pissed if I come even a second late."

I look away, trying to summon up enough courage to ask him to lend me some money. I could tell I was as red as a tomato.

"Well?" He asks.

"Well, you see, I don't know— I just, I need you to help me with some money. I'll pay you back, I promise! I'm so embarrassed." I say, trying to avoid eye contact. Jeez. My situation was bad.

"Sure thing. How much are we talking about? Is it your rent?"

"Anything you're able to give me, honestly, I'd be glad." I respond. No one knew what I was battling with. Having to pay a fifteen year old debt I knew nothing of had seriously wrecked my finances.

"So if I have you a dollar, you'd be fine with that, right?" Benji says, a loud laugh visible on his lips. We both burst out laughing.

****

Thankfully, Benji had given me a few $100 notes that I hadn't taken my time to count. He'd specifically said, "Get some Chinese with this". I lay on my bed and begin to count the notes. It was seven. $700. I exhale, shocked. Benjamin really did come from a wealthy family. My phone beeps, and just as I'm about to check it, I hear a loud bang come from the living room. I jump up, alarmed. I rush to my wardrobe, but then I realize that I was no longer armed. Shit. Luckily, there's a long wooden stick by my bed from a broken chair in the living room. I quickly pick it up and hold it as tight as I can.

Suddenly, the footsteps stop. In a split second, I hear bullets fly across the room and I bend down in fear. My eyes widen in shock as my breathing intensifies. Shit! Why did I have to be unarmed at a time like this? The shooting stops. The entire house is as silent as a graveyard. I stay out for a few more minutes, itching to find out what the hell just happened in my home. I was dazed and in complete shock.

Going out of my room, the stick in my head, I tiptoe so as not to alarm the intruders if they were still there. The stick drops from my hand as I reach the parlor. I stand there, beyond shocked. There are two lifeless bodies laying on the floor, blooding oozing out of their motionless bodies. I rush to the window, trying to find pointers or a clue as to what exactly happened. There's simply nothing. I rush to the door and head outside to see if I'd find anybody even though it wasn't the safest thing to do. I get outside, scanning the entire area and running around like a crazy woman.

"Shit!" I yell in desperation. I rush back in and I pause, still taking in the sight of the dead bodies. It felt surreal. Not the fact that there were dead bodies around me but because the dead bodies were in my home. I rush to my room and get my phone. I call Benjamin. He's the only one I could rely on.

"Hey. . . Benjamin? There's a situation here," I explain, slightly panicking. It'd just hit me that I could in fact be held responsible for their deaths. "Just get back here and don't mention to anyone. Please." I request. Immediately, I turn off my phone.

On getting to the living room, I pause as my eyes fall on something. There's a gun on the floor. I go compare to it, and that's when I notice the card beside it. Volkov, was written on the black card, stained with blood. I gasp, shocked.

"What the hell?" I say, as I pick up the card. The blood disgusted me and the thought of Leonid being in my home sent angry shivers down my spine. I wondered if the blood belonged to one of the dead men on the floor, if it belonged to another of Leonid's victims or if the blood belonged to him himself. I scan the card. There's a number behind the card. Did Leonid know I was asking questions about him? Did he know I was looking for ways to get him red handed? Is that why he created such a mess for me?

****
"Andrea!" I hear a few hours later. From the corridor, I walk into the living room to see Benji, his gun in the air. His jaw drops. He unarmed, tucking his gun behind him.

"What the hell happened here?" He rushes over to me. He holds my shoulders. "Are you hurt?"

I nod a no. He looks at me for a few seconds and turns around to reassess the situation again. "Did you do this? How are you armed?"

"I'm not." I respond quickly. He turns back to look at me, a thousand questions in his eyes. I hand the card over to him.

"My theory is; he sent these two to a slaughter house. He sent them to be killed. He set me up."

"Volkov? Leonid Volkov?" Benji asks. I nod. He continues, "That doesn't even make any sense, Drea, he doesn't even know you."

"He does," I respond. Benjamin raises his brows, waiting for further explanation. I continue, "I might have gone to a direct connect. I asked questions about him. I said I wanted to meet him."

"You asked for a meeting? Shit, Andrea! You just dug your own grave!" He yells, running his hand through his hair. I sit on the chair, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You know you could serve life for these murders, right?" Benjamin states, and I look up at him. For the longest time in my life, I hadn't felt fear. At this moment, the fear I felt was immense.

"Wait," Benjamin states. He kneels. I watch him closely. "They left a gun." He says. I'd been too lost in my thoughts and confused to remember that I did in fact see the gun.

"Why would they leave a gun?" I ask, racking my brain.

"They left a card too, with his contact number on it," Benjamin says, getting up. He hands me the card. "If I'm not mistaken, there's a fingerprint on it."

I bend over the dead bodies and check both their chests. Their bodies are cold. "The Volkov signature." These men were in fact, Leonid's men. They were part of the syndicate. But why did Leonid kill his own men?

"You asked for a meeting. You have it."