A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance) (22 page)

Matt hung his head in disbelief. They’d snagged her right outside his room and he hadn’t heard a damn thing. Rage filled him, and the darkness Daphne helped keep at bay rose up with it. Daphne spoke, but he did not hear her words. The sound of another slap met his ears, and he slammed the gun safe shut. Dorian followed him out to the curb. He whispered they were on their way and prayed they wouldn’t be too damn late to save the woman he loved.

***

Every bit of Daphne’s face stung, and she stretched her jaw from the latest slap. “The pictures… It was you?”

“It was Orion, actually, but I sent them to the news station,” he gloated. “They were happy enough to have more gossip to spread about you.” He picked at his nails and sniffed loudly. “We’ll be setting off soon. Make your peace, princess. Sadly, your death is going to be very, very painful.”

He cackled darkly as he left the cabin and slammed the door behind him. Letting out a breath of relief to be alone again, Daphne pulled her free hand from the ropes and went to work untying the other knots that held her to the chair. She heard the roar of the bikes over the coms. Matt was on his way to get her. She needed to be ready to run when he showed up. The rope burns on her wrist screamed in pain where she’d yanked it free in her anger, but she drowned the pain as she worked to free herself. The other knot came free, and she worked quickly at undoing the ones around her lap. The bike engines cut off, and Matt and Dorian talked about how to get to the dock.

“Matt, be careful,” she whispered.

He laughed, but it was dark and it wasn’t Matt talking to her. This was the soldier, the sniper, the killer. “Don’t worry, love, it’s not me you should worry about it.” A man cried out in pain, the sound cut off, and a crash followed. “It’s every man who’s between you and me. Stay put. Don’t move ‘til I tell you.”

She said she would and arranged the ropes on her lap so it looked like she was still tied up. A gunshot echoed through the com, and she jumped.
Wonder how many ashes he’ll add to his tattoo after today
, she mused and worried Matt wouldn’t come back from the darkness.

***

When he reached the gate, Matt, with his rifle slung over his shoulder, didn’t stop when the guard called out to him. He lunged forward, grabbed the man by the shirt and yanked him out of the shack. Dorian raised the butt of his rifle and quickly knocked the man out before he could call for help.

“Those crates,” Matt said, nodding to them. “The dock is on the other side.”

“Get up there. I’ll scout out another spot to call targets from.”

They walked to the center of the crates and split, Matt going left and hustling towards the stack of four shipping crates. Dorian disappeared to the right. Grunts of pain echoed to him, but no gunshots yet. Matt stayed low and lay flat on the crates, set up his rifle, and put his eye to the scope. He moved it from one boat to the next set up at the dock until he spotted one crawling with men. The rest of them were completely deserted. He checked the faces of the men, spotting Orion, another guard from the palace, and finally Ambrose. He was on the phone, his face drawn in anger.

Before he could get a clean shot, the man stepped out of sight. Matt moved to Orion instead, and once Dorian said he was in position, Matt lined up his shot and pulled the trigger. The man’s body dropped to the deck of the boat, and panic ensued shortly after.
That’s for being a traitor, you bastard
.

“I count seven,” Dorian said. “Three more on the dock.”

“Take care of them,” Matt said and moved his rifle until he found his next target. He moved up to the man’s head and pulled the trigger again. “Six on deck,” he said and ejected the spent shell.

Dorian muttered something about keeping score, but Matt didn’t hear him. He listened for Daphne through the com. She stayed quiet, and he watched a man drop dead on the dock.

“They’re starting to scatter,” Dorian told him. “Should I let them go?”

“Daphne?” he asked. “Live or die?”

She hesitated. With a sigh, she said, “Let them go. You don’t need all this blood on your hands.”

He wanted to argue but let the two men from the dock flee. Ambrose poked his head back around, his gun aimed towards the crates, and fired. The shots were too low and ricocheted off the metal around Matt. He didn’t flinch. He popped off a shot back, but it missed the man’s head by a few inches and he ejected the shell angrily.

“Come on, you bastard,” Matt muttered. Two other men charged forward, their guns firing towards Matt, but one was dropped by Dorian and the second went down when Matt fired. “Four. Daphne, what do you hear?”

“Nothing… It’s quiet—no! Get your hands off me!”

“Daphne! What’s happening?”

“Let me go! Matt!”

“Shut up, you bitch,” Ambrose shouted.

Matt stared through the scope, and when Ambrose came back into view with his gun aimed at Daphne’s head, his entire body exploded in fury.

“Put down your weapons,” Ambrose called out to the dockyard. “Do it or I’ll kill her!”

“Matt,” Daphne whispered, and Ambrose yanked hard on her hair. She reached back, trying to get free, but he smacked her with the gun, and she staggered.

“Matt, can you get a shot?” Dorian asked quietly. “I’m blocked. I can’t see.”

He scooted forward, his hands the steadiest they’d been in years, and put his eye back to the scope. He breathed in and out slowly, forcing his heart to settle back into a steady rhythm. Ambrose yelled again, but he ignored it.
Breathe, in and out, just breathe.

“Daphne, stand very still.” In the scope, he saw her nod subtly, and her body froze. “Look to the crates,” he whispered, and her eyes moved up to where he hid out of sight. “Do you trust me?”

He watched her chest heave as she took a deep breath and said one word: “Yes.”

Ambrose’s face scrunched into a snarl, but Matt’s finger was on the trigger. He squeezed, and the shot echoed across the dockyard. He sank to the deck beside Daphne, dead with a bullet hole in his forehead. She staggered backwards, her face pale.

“Matt, the others are running,” Dorian said. “It’s safe.”

“Daphne, I’m coming,” he told her. “Can you hear me?”

“I’m… I’m fine,” she breathed. “I’m fine, Matt.”

But she wasn’t, and he scaled down the crates as quickly as he could, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, and sprinted around the crates to reach the dock. He didn’t even see the dead bodies as he raced down the dock.

“Daphne!”

She clung to the railing of the boat, her hands as white as her face. “Matt. Matt!” Daphne rushed off the boat and jumped into his arms. He crushed her to his body, picking her up off the dock, breathing in her sweet scent mixed with the salty air.

“I was so scared,” he admitted. “God, I thought I was going to lose you.”

“Not yet,” she whispered and leaned back enough to see him. He kissed her, desperate to feel those soft lips on his and know she was really there with him. Gently, he put her back on her feet and examined every inch of her bruised, cut face.

“Bastard,” he snarled. Carefully, he brushed his fingers over the red and purple coloring on her cheeks, but she took his hand.

“They’ll heal. You’re a good shot, anyone ever tell you that?” she said with relief. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Dorian said, behind him, “but Jeremiah texted. Dion is at the palace.”

Matt’s entire body stiffened, and Daphne’s eyes turned lighter than he’d ever seen before. “How fast can we get there?”

“You want to go back there?” he asked her hesitant. “Daphne, are you sure?”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t guarantee I won’t kill your cousin on sight,” he snapped honestly.

She squeezed his hand. “I might not stop you, but they need to know the truth. I can’t leave until they know it all.”

She had a point—not that Matt thought her parents nor anyone else deserved to have Daphne in their lives, but he knew he couldn’t stop her. “An admission might help,” he said. “The earbuds—they record. I have it on my cell.” He glanced down at the clothes she had on from last night, torn up and dirty. “Do you want to change first?”

Daphne shook her head. “I’m done hiding,” she said. “Get me to the palace, Matt, and let’s end this.”

“You heard the princess,” he told Dorian. “Get ready for a fight.”

Dorian grinned. “I should hang out with you more often. Retired, my ass, Matthias.”

Matt frowned, but Daphne laughed loudly. “Sorry, but I really hope this is not a regular occurrence. I’m not sure if I can take much more of this.”

“You won’t. After this, I’m taking you away. Far away,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “Then, Daphne Eridian, I’m going to marry you so no one else can ever have you.”

Her face went blank before it brightened into a smile and she leapt into his arms again. He would’ve been content kissing her the rest of the day, stripping her bare and showing her everything he hadn’t been able to say before she’d been taken from him, but like she’d said, they had one more thing to take care of.

Chapter 15

Barefoot, wearing her mini skirt, halter crop top, and bruised and scratched, Daphne strode through the main gate to the palace, ignoring the protests and calls of the other guards as Matt and Dorian followed her.

“Princess, they’re armed! I can’t let them in,” the man argued. “My God! What happened to you?”

She whirled around on him, no more smiles, and glared. “I am Princess Daphne Eridian, and these two men are my personal bodyguards,” she stated. “They are here to escort me inside. Do not try to stop them or me again.”

The man bowed his head and backed away but didn’t leave. He called on the radio to let the rest of the guard know the princess had returned, then fell in line behind them. She paused when she neared the main doors, but Matt squeezed her shoulder and her confidence rushed back. She was in the right here, and no one was going to tell her what to do again. Servants gawked at their princess marching through the palace as more guards swarmed around them, but she pushed through. Matt and Dorian didn’t waver from her sides.

“The king and queen, where are they?” she called out in the main foyer.

“The surveillance room, my lady,” Marie yelled from the main staircase.

Daphne gave her a brief smile. “Thank you, Marie.”

She turned for the lower stairs and kept up her steady pace. The entourage of guards stayed with the three, but she didn’t care. The more who witnessed this, the merrier, as far as she was concerned. Halfway to the surveillance room at the end of the hall, the door burst open and her mother ran out, yelling at her for scaring them. Daphne didn’t stop walking, and when Alexandria reached for her, demanding to know where the hell she’d been and why Matt was there, Daphne told her to shut up.

“What? What did you just say to me?”

“I said to shut up, Mother,” Daphne said calmly. “Do I look like I just ran off somewhere? Is that really what you think?”

For the first time, Alexandria really looked at her daughter, the bruises on her face and the scratches, and her torn and dirty clothes, and her mouth fell open in horror. “Daphne? Your beautiful face.”

“I’ll explain, but Matt and Dorian stay with me, understand? They’re not going anywhere.”

She walked on, leaving her mother sputtering and hurrying to keep up. Calix waited impatiently in the doorway, tapping his toe and his arms crossed over his chest. “Daphne—”

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t, Father. Not yet. Where’s Dion?”

Calix’s mouth hung open in shock. He shut it as his eyes narrowed on Matt and Dorian. “Why is he here? How dare you return to this palace! I demand you leave at once!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Matt said firmly. “I’m charged with protecting the princess, and that is exactly what I’ve done while you sat here twiddling your thumbs. Sir.” He bit off the last word harshly.

“She ran off!”

“No, I was kidnapped from the palace,” Daphne informed her father as she pushed past him into the room as Calix spluttered in disbelief behind her. Dion stood near the front, talking to several of the guards. “Dion, I’m so happy you’re here.”

He whirled around and stared, wide-eyed, at her. “Daphne? Thank God you’re safe. Everyone was so worried,” he said and hurried towards her.

When he was a step away, Matt rushed forward and decked him in the jaw. “You bastard! I should rip your throat out!” He punched him again and sent him to the floor. Dion called for help, but Jeremiah told the others to hold off. Matt picked up Dion by his shirt and continued to beat him over the yelling of Calix and Alexandria.

“Matt. Matthias,” Daphne said and touched his shoulder after the fifth punch. “We need him able to talk.” Fuming, he nodded, and hoisted the man to his feet.

His face bloody, Dion glared defiantly at Daphne. “You have no proof, you bitch. No proof of anything!”

“Proof of what?” Calix stormed. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on in my palace?”