A Bodyguard For The Princess (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Mia Carson

  The floor shifted under her feet, and Daphne caught a glimpse out the open door. A boat. They were on a boat sitting at a dock somewhere. She twisted her wrists, but the knots held.

  “You want my throne, but you can’t get it. Not if you kill me.”

  “Who said I was going to kill you, dear cousin? Oh no, I’m much more sophisticated than that.” He bent down to the TV and turned it on. Blown up all over the screen were images of her and Matt together in the royal gardens. “My, quite the scandal you and Matthias created together. Not that I can complain. No, this fits perfectly into my plans. Gave me just the opportunity I was looking for.”

  Daphne was too fixated on the images to hear him clearly. “What… what plans?” Matt… oh God. How did this happen? Where is he?

  “You cause a scandal, sleeping with the help, and run off to be with him,” Dion said and turned the TV off. “You snag a boat from the dock, ready to make a run for it, but there’s a terrible accident and… well, I don’t think you’ll make it.”

  Her blood ran cold as she glared at him. “A boating accident?”

  “Just like Marietta. Honestly, you should’ve just died then and made my life easier, but no, you had to survive. It might finally destroy your mother, though. Wonder if she’ll kill herself out of grief.”

  Daphne screamed and fought to get free, but the chair didn’t move and the ropes held fast. “I will kill you! Leave them alone!”

  “I think not. Now, I really must run. By this afternoon, they’ll be announcing your death and informing me that I am the sole remaining heir.” He stepped closer and pressed the gun under her chin as his hand slipped down to her bare thigh. “By the way, if I wasn’t planning to kill you, I’d consider taking you for a ride first. I’m sure Matthias loved you in this outfit.”

  “Get your hands off me,” she snapped and spat in his face.

  Dion snarled and smacked her across the face with the gun. Her ears rang, and she heard him speaking. Ambrose appeared in the doorway, but they left her alone and closed the door on her.

  Daphne winced, her head throbbing, and tried again to get free. There had to be a way to call for help. And Matt… What was Matt thinking right now? She knew he’d never believe she ran off, but how to tell him? The cabin had no windows, and no radio nor phone she could see. The chair was bolted to the damn floor, and the ropes burned her wrists and ankles. Dion said she would be in a boating accident, which meant at some point, he was going to either throw her overboard or blow up the boat.

  “Jesus Christ,” she muttered and struggled harder to break free.

  Marietta’s boat had crashed into another speeding across the water. She’d been thrown out, knocked unconscious, and drowned before they could reach her. Daphne remembered them pulling her lifeless body from the water, the way her parents screamed and how hurt she was to see her sister, her best friend, dead. But Daphne had survived with only a few scratches and bruises.

  “No, you are not going to die like that,” she snapped to herself. “You’re going to get out of this, and Matt’s going to come for you. You know he will.”

  But how would he find her? When she grew tired, she stopped to conserve her energy, and worked at staying calm. A voice sounded close by. At first she thought it was Dion, but it was different… She recognized it. She closed her eyes, zeroing in on the noise and frowned. Matt. He wasn’t on the boat, was he? No… no, it wasn’t that close, yet it was… Her eyes shot open and went to her mini skirt.

  The earbud! It was still there, and the damn thing had a GPS tracker!

  The door to the cabin remained closed, and she shifted her arms, fumbling to get to the small pocket of her skirt. Every panicked nerve in her said to yell for Matt, but Dion would know and probably kill her faster. Her fingers managed to get in and under the ropes. The earbud was right there… She gripped it carefully between her fingers. If she dropped it, she’d be lost. Just a little further…

  ***

  Matt punched Hades again, ignoring the man’s pathetic whine. “Tell me where he is!”

  Dorian stood nearby, three goons knocked out at his feet, watching. “You should just answer his question before you lose any more teeth, friend.”

  Hades spat out a mouthful of blood and grinned. “Not a word.”

  Matt raged and brought his fist back again when a voice—her irresistible voice—filled his ear. “Matt! Matt—please, God, say you can hear me.”

  He dropped Hades to the floor. “Daphne?” Dorian straightened too, and Matt sighed, glad he hadn’t gone mad. “Daphne, where are you?”

  “I don’t… I don’t know. Dion’s here and Ambrose.”

  “Daphne, I need details, love,” he said, but Dorian had his cell out and motioned he was tracking her. “Are you hurt at all? If those bastards touched you—”

  “Not hurt, Matt,” she cut him off. “Tied to a damn chair and about to be killed in a boating accident.”

  “What?!” he yelled. “Daphne, where the hell are you?”

  “A boat, at a dock, but I don’t know which one,” she told him quickly. “Matt… The pictures, they were on the news. I’m so sorry.”

  He frowned as he kicked Hades in the face, knocking him out, and nodded at the door. Dorian followed, and they hit the street where their bikes were parked. “Why are you sorry? I just ruined your life.”

  “The hell you did,” she snapped. “Are my parents really not looking for me?”

  “No, they think you ran off, and I’ve been banished,” he growled.

  Silence. He counted to ten, and when she still hadn’t said anything, he called her name sharply. “Sorry, I’m here, just… How did this happen?”

  “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this, you hear me?” he ordered. “You did nothing wrong. It’s your parents and your cousin, it’s the whole damn island. I’m coming to get you, Daphne, and once I do, I’m taking you somewhere far away from all those shits.”

  First, he thought she was crying until it grew louder, and his heart clenched painfully at the sound of her laughter. “Told you. You do care.”

  “Just hang on, Daphne, we’re coming for you,” he told her.

  “Dorian is there, too?”

  “Right here, princess,” he said. “That boat won’t leave the dock. We know exactly where you are.” He held up his cell to show Matt her location, the spot pinging on the map.

  Matt wanted to say more, wanted to confess everything he’d been too afraid to say before, but saying it all made it seem like he was sealing her fate. He would get to her in time. There was no other option. He would not let her die because if she died, he’d go down with her.

  After he took out Dion and all the others who’d ruined her life.

  “We’re coming, love, just hang on a little longer,” he swore. “Just hang on.”

  Chapter 14

  Matt unlocked his old storage shed with all of his things that he hadn’t take to the palace with him. Dorian slipped in behind him, and Matt went straight to the gun safe in the back. He opened it and said he was going to give Jeremiah an update. He stepped back and texted Jeremiah, asking him to call if he could.

  A second later, his cell went off. “Matthias! What did you find out?”

  “Daphne—she’s been kidnapped by Dion and Ambrose,” he said tightly.

  “Seriously?” Voices echoed behind him, but it died down. “Guess who’s here telling them all she ran away.”

  “Dion?” How had he gotten there already?”

  “No, Agnes, with a text from Dion saying Daphne told him early this morning she was taking off. He hasn’t shown up yet.”

  “He will soon enough.” Matt filled him in briefly on what was happening at the docks. When Jeremiah asked what the plan was, Matt told him to stay at the palace. He was going to get her out of there, alive, and kill anyone who got in his way. “I’m bringing her home, Jeremiah. Then the king and queen can understand what the hell they’ve put their daughter through.”

  Jer
emiah sighed on the other end. “Be careful, Matthias. Get her back.”

  Matt disconnected the call, and Daphne’s voice sounded in his ear. “What’s happening at the palace?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about, love,” he told her sternly. “Focus on a way out of those ropes.”

  “Working on it, but there’s nothing here.”

  She sounded more frantic than before. It wouldn’t be long before she lost control completely and lashed out. Daphne wasn’t one to get weaker when she was upset. No, he’d seen enough broken lamps and vases to know that.

  “Daphne, listen to me, there’s a way out of there. You’re just not seeing it,” he said slowly.

  “I’ve looked, Matt, there’s nothing,” she snapped, and he heard it there—just a little, but her anger was there.

  He chuckled. “Always so blind when it comes to what’s right in front of you.”

  Dorian shot him a look, but Matt waved it away as Daphne’s breathing intensified through the com. “What did you say to me?”

  “You heard me. Stop acting like the stupid princess everyone thinks you are.”

  “Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” she whispered harshly, but he heard fumbling in the background. “If I get out of here, I’m going to smack you so hard you’ll be dizzy for weeks!”

  He laughed again. “Sure you will, if you could ever reach.”

  “Bastard,” she snarled.

  “Am I? Well, at least I’m the bastard that knew he had you the moment he saw you,” Matt continued, hoping she heard the truth in those words, though he purposely made them sound worse. “You thought you could play with me. So innocent, so naïve.”

  Silence met his ears, and for a split second, he thought he’d read her wrong. The seconds ticked by, and when he was going to call for her again, she cried out in pain.

  “Daphne? Daphne, talk to me, damn it!”

  “I hate how easily you read me,” she muttered on a laugh. “And I have a hand free.”

  Matt sighed with relief and Dorian’s lips thinned, but he didn’t say anything. “Hate me later. And I don’t read you easily,” he added quietly. “You’re more like me than I realized.” A man yelled in the background, and he tensed. “Daphne? Who’s there?”

  “Hang on,” she muttered and fell silent.

  Dorian tapped him on the shoulder, and Matt went to the gun safe to grab his rifle and scope. The man yelled again. He knew that voice: Ambrose. As he quietly took ammo and loaded his rifle, tucking the extra rounds in the shoulder strap, he listened.

  “Dion sends his regards, but he had to go,” Ambrose said.

  “Too bad, I was hoping he’d decided to go down with me,” Daphne snapped. There was a slap, and Matt cursed as Daphne cried out in pain. His hands tightened on his rifle, his jaw clenched as his blood boiled with rage.

  “Be happy he chose to take you out this way,” Ambrose sighed. “I wanted to slit your throat, amongst other things, and frame your new lover for it. It would’ve been easy enough to do after you’d snuck out of his room last night, but Dion wants it this way, and he has the money, after all.”

  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.”