Back
/ 32
Chapter 3

2.

Protected.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

The sun was way too bright when I cracked my eyes open. My head pounded, my throat was dry, and for a second, I didn't even know where I was. The silk sheets beneath me, the faint smell of Rina's expensive-ass vanilla candles, and the soft hum of the central air jogging in the background reminded me.

Collins Estate.

Last night. The party. The gunshots.

I groaned, rubbing my face before reaching for my phone on the nightstand. The second I saw the screen, my stomach dropped.

50 missed calls from Daddy.

20 from Mally.

5 from Mommy.

I let out a long sigh and dropped my phone onto the bed.

I already knew what the deal was.

Daddy was furious. Mally was probably talking big brother shit. Mommy was just checking to make sure I was alive before telling me how disappointed she was.

Rina stirred beside me, mumbling something incoherent before flipping onto her stomach. Her long curls were a tangled mess, her makeup smudged, but she still managed to look rich and unbothered.

I nudged her arm. "Bitch, wake up."

She groaned, throwing a weak slap at my hand. "Five more minutes."

I rolled my eyes, sitting up and stretching. My body was still exhausted from the mess last night, but if I didn't get my ass home soon, my daddy was gonna have a whole SWAT team looking for me.

I picked up my phone again, unlocking it to scan through the messages.

Daddy: WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?

Daddy: Yanna. Call me. Now.

Daddy: If I have to come looking for you, you won't like it.

Daddy: Answer your phone.

Mally: Why is Daddy calling me talking about you missing? Where the fuck are you?

Mally: If you don't answer me, I'm pulling up.

Mally: Yanna. Don't play with me.

Mommy: Call me when you see this.

I let out another sigh and shook Rina's shoulder harder. "Get up. I gotta go home before my daddy sends a search party."

She groaned dramatically before finally sitting up, rubbing her eyes. "Damn, let a bitch sleep," she mumbled. Then, she yawned and ran a hand through her curls before squinting at me. "What time is it?"

I glanced at my phone again. "Two in the afternoon."

Her eyes went wide. "Oh, shit."

Yeah. We slept all morning.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood up, stretching before grabbing my mini skirt off the floor. It was wrinkled as hell, and there was no way I was walking into my house looking like I just survived the night of my life. I needed to at least brush my hair, fix my gloss, and throw on some fresh clothes before facing my family.

Rina rubbed her face before standing up with a stretch. "Lemme throw on some sweats and grab my keys."

I nodded, slipping into the bathroom connected to her room. I splashed some cold water on my face, ran my fingers through my hair, and re-applied my gloss because no matter how much trouble I was about to be in, I was gonna look good.

When I came back out, Rina was already dressed in sweats and slides, her car keys dangling from her fingers. "You ready for the shit show?" she teased.

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just go."

We left the room, padding down the grand staircase like we weren't still slightly hungover. The house was silent—her parents were either still asleep or out being rich and mysterious somewhere.

The ride back to my house was quiet for the most part. I was too busy mentally preparing myself for whatever drama I was about to walk into, and Rina was scrolling on her phone, probably already planning our next move for the weekend.

When we pulled up to my estate, I sighed, gripping the door handle. The front of the house looked too calm—the type of calm that meant the storm was inside.

Rina smirked. "Want me to come in for moral support?"

I side-eyed her. "You just wanna see Mally."

She grinned. "And? You act like I've been in love with that man since the seventh grade or something."

I groaned, opening the door. "Bye, Rina."

She laughed as I stepped out, rolling down the window. "Text me if you live!"

I shot her a middle finger before closing the door and turning towards the house, taking a deep breath.

Time to face the music.

I barely made it five steps past the grand marble foyer before a firm hand grabbed my arm.

I sucked my teeth, already knowing who it was.

"Doll," Malik's deep voice rumbled behind me.

I froze, sighing dramatically before turning to face my older brother. His arms were crossed, his dark brown eyes narrowed, and he looked like he'd been waiting for me all morning. He was still in a fitted black tee and gray sweats, like he had just rolled out of bed—probably because Daddy had called his phone fifty-eleven times before I finally decided to show up.

"Where you been?"

I pouted, batting my lashes. "Out."

He gave me a blank stare.

"Daddy wants to see you," he said, voice firm.

I huffed. "Do I look like I'm in the mood for one of his long-ass lectures?"

"You should've thought about that before you got caught." He gave me a little push toward the hallway leading to Daddy's office. "Get it over with, Babydoll."

I sulked the entire way there, dragging my feet across the shiny hardwood floors. My body still felt sluggish from last night. My hair was still a mess, my skirt still slightly wrinkled, and I probably still smelled like Rina's luxury vanilla body oil and the Henny we were throwing back like water.

I knocked lightly on the heavy oak doors, hoping—praying—that he had maybe fallen asleep and wouldn't answer.

"Come in, Yanna."

I winced.

Government name.

Yep. He was mad.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my stomach twisting in knots.

Daddy's office was intimidating as hell—dark mahogany wood, towering bookshelves, and a massive desk that looked like it weighed more than my car. But the one thing that stood out was the plush pink chair off to the side—the one he bought just for me because I used to sit in here all the time as a little girl, coloring while he worked.

I eased into the chair, trying to look small.

Daddy sat behind his desk, hands clasped together, watching me with that stern, unreadable expression he always had when I was in trouble. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, as always, his salt-and-pepper beard neatly trimmed, and his presence alone was damn near suffocating.

"Did you go to that party last night?" he asked, his voice smooth but sharp.

I tilted my head, giving him my best innocent look. "No, Daddy."

His gaze didn't waver. Instead, he slowly reached into his desk, pulled out a stack of printed papers, and slid them across the table.

I hesitated before looking down.

My Instagram story. Printed. In full color.

Videos of me twerking on that curly-haired girl. Rina and me throwing back shots of Henny in the car. Us posing in the club, grinning like we ran the place.

I sucked in a breath.

Damn.

Daddy leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "So you wanna try again?"

I pouted, crossing my arms. "Daddy, why are you even on my Instagram?"

"I'm not. But my people are."

Of course. I should've known he had a whole damn surveillance team watching me.

I slumped in my seat, playing with the hem of my skirt like a scolded child. "Okay, fine. I was there. But it's not like I did anything bad."

His brows lifted. "Nothing bad? Yanna, there was a shooting."

I bit my lip. "We left before anything happened—"

"You should've never been there in the first place," he cut me off, his voice low, firm. "You know how I feel about these things."

I groaned. "I just wanted to have fun—"

"You don't get to move like that, Babydoll. You are my daughter. And that comes with risks."

I sighed heavily, slumping even lower into my chair. "So what? You gonna lock me in the house forever?"

He sat back, rubbing his temple. "No," he said. "But from now on, you won't be going anywhere alone."

I blinked. "What?"

He clasped his hands together. "I've hired you a personal bodyguard. Someone who will be with you every time you leave this house."

My jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

He gave me a pointed look.

Oh, he was serious.

I groaned loudly, tossing my head back. "Daddy, that is so extra! I don't need a babysitter."

"This isn't up for debate."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he cut me off with a look.

"Her name is Ren. She's an ex-sergeant in the army. She doesn't play games."

I immediately imagined some mean-ass old lady with a buzz cut, a deep voice, and a permanent scowl. Probably the type to call me "ma'am" and wear tactical gear to the grocery store.

I pouted again. "I don't want some old, raggedy—"

"Ren, come in," Daddy called.

The door opened.

And in walked the finest woman I had ever seen in my life.

I sat up straight.

She was tall. At least 6'0, towering over me even in her perfectly tailored black suit. Her dreads were a mix of brown and black, long and thick, falling over one shoulder like she just casually walked out of a magazine spread. A nose piercing on either side, giving her a slightly rugged edge despite her professional look. Her jawline was sharp, her skin a deep, rich brown, and even though her expression was calm and unreadable, I could still see the faint outline of her dimples.

And her body? Toned. Even through the suit, I could tell she was strong, built like she could throw me over her shoulder without breaking a sweat.

My eyes trailed down, landing on the tattoo peeking from her wrist, the intricate designs curling up her hand. A sleeve? Maybe. But I wouldn't know until I saw her in something less professional.

My stomach did a little flip.

This was not what I was expecting.

Ren's dark eyes met mine, steady and unreadable.

I swallowed, my cheeks heating.

Well, shit.

I quickly looked away, my cheeks still hot from the way Ren's dark eyes had met mine. I was not about to get caught slipping over some fine-ass bodyguard—especially not in front of Daddy.

I crossed my arms, pouting hard, still annoyed about this whole situation.

Daddy cleared his throat, his tone firm and final. "You're dismissed, Yanna. I need to speak with Ren alone."

I rolled my eyes but got up immediately, snatching my phone off the desk.

"And, Yanna," he added, his voice stopping me mid-step.

I sighed dramatically, turning back toward him. "What now?"

"If you leave this house, you let Ren know," he said, giving me that stern look only fathers with too much power could pull off. "Or there will be consequences."

I sucked my teeth. "So I really gotta report my every move now? Like I'm a damn child?"

Daddy didn't even blink.

I huffed, flipping my hair over my shoulder. "Whatever."

Then I RAN out the office before he could say anything else.

I took the stairs two at a time, barely acknowledging the staff moving around the mansion as I sprinted toward my room. My heels clacked against the floors, my heart still racing—whether it was from the conversation with Daddy or from Ren's presence, I didn't know.

All I knew was that I needed to call Rina.

I swung my bedroom door open, locked it behind me, and immediately flopped onto my massive king-sized bed, dialing her number.

She picked up on the second ring.

"Doll," she answered in that silky, rich-girl tone we both had perfected over the years. "You alive still?"

"Bitch." I exhaled, staring at my pink crystal chandelier as I dramatically spread out across my silk sheets. "You will not believe what just happened."

I could practically hear her smirk. "Did Malik finally decide to let me have a chance?"

I gagged. "Be serious."

She laughed, but I heard her shuffle, like she was getting comfortable. "Alright, alright. Spill."

I rolled onto my stomach, twirling a strand of my hair. "So Daddy saw my Instagram story—had it printed out like some damn court evidence, girl—"

"Oop."

"—and now he's punishing me by assigning me a personal bodyguard. Like, she's supposed to be with me everywhere I go."

Rina gasped. "Oh, that's cute! Like a personal babysitter?"

"No, bitch! It's annoying! Daddy acts like the world will stop spinning just because I like girls. Like, be serious."

"Ugh, he's still on that?" Rina groaned.

"Yes! Like, he's making it seem like the streets are extra dangerous just because I'm gay. Like, what does me liking bitches have to do with me getting shot?"

"Maybe he's just being extra because of the shooting last night?"

I sucked my teeth. "He don't care about that. He cares that I was at a party with girls."

Rina sighed. "Okay, okay, so... what's the bodyguard like? Is she, like, old and scary?"

I paused.

And that's when my stomach did that weird little flip again.

I hesitated before answering, my mind flashing back to Ren's tall, muscular figure, the way her dreads fell over her shoulder, those dimples barely peeking through, the tattoos I wanted to see more of.

"...She's not old," I muttered.

"Oh?" Rina perked up instantly. "What's she look like?"

I bit my lip.

Rina gasped dramatically. "Doll. Is she fine?"

I groaned. "Rina, please."

"Oh, nah, nah, nah—she's fine as hell, isn't she?!"

I buried my face into my pillow, kicking my feet.

Rina started screaming. "DOLL. NOT YOU GETTING STUCK WITH A FINE-ASS BODYGUARD! THIS IS A FANFIC."

"SHUT UP."

"ARE YOU BLUSHING?!"

"I AM NOT BLUSHING!"

Rina was cackling at this point. "What's her name?"

I huffed. "Ren."

"That's kinda sexy."

I rolled my eyes, even though I agreed.

"Okay, okay," she said between giggles. "So, when are you making your move?"

I froze.

"...Huh?"

"Doll, be serious," Rina said. "You like girls. She's fine. You're fine. This is fate."

I groaned, flipping onto my back again. "Rina, she's literally my bodyguard."

"Okay? That just means she gotta be close to you 24/7."

I bit my lip.

Rina gasped again. "Oh my God. You already like her."

"I DO NOT."

"Then why is your voice all high-pitched and girly?"

I grabbed my stuffed Hello Kitty plushie and threw it across the room. "RINA, STOP."

She just laughed. "Mhm. We'll see."

Me and Rina were still on the phone, laid up like two gossiping aunties, talking about the party happening tonight.

"I heard it's at the Davenport lofts," Rina said. "Real exclusive, VIP only, and you know I already got our names on the list."

I smirked, twirling a strand of my hair. "You always do."

"You know I got us," she said, and I could hear the sound of her nails tapping against her phone screen. "I just need to know what the hell we're wearing because I'm tryna eat the girls up."

I was about to respond when there was a knock on my bedroom door.

I sighed dramatically, rolling my eyes as I pressed the phone to my shoulder. "Ugh, hold on."

I got up, still holding the phone, and swung my door open with zero enthusiasm—

—only for my entire soul to pause.

Ren was standing there.

And up close? She was even finer.

Like, I thought I had imagined it before, but nah. The dreads, the piercings, the sharp ass jawline, the tattoos peeking out from under her sleeves—it was giving dangerously attractive.

"Damn, bitch." Rina's voice came through my speaker clear as day, like she forgot her phone was on full blast. "She is fine as hell."

My eyes widened in horror, and I slammed my volume button all the way down instantly.

Ren's lips twitched, like she was trying not to smirk.

I cleared my throat, forcing a sweet, innocent smile. "Uh—hi."

She nodded once. "Just letting you know—if you need anything, or if you're leaving, let me know. I'll be in the hall."

I swear I barely heard a word she said because—

That accent.

That smooth-ass, rich Southern drawl.

I didn't even know where it was from, but it was low and confident, the type that could make a girl's knees weak if she wasn't careful.

I blinked, snapping out of it, and plastered on my usual spoiled-princess expression. "Mmkay."

Then, before I could embarrass myself further, I closed the door with a little too much speed and immediately turned my volume back up.

"Bitchhhhh." I collapsed onto my bed, clutching my chest. "That accent."

Rina started screaming. "I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOU! OH, YOU'RE IN TROUBLE."

I grabbed my plushie, kicking my feet, biting back a grin. "Shut up."

"Oh nah, Doll. You're done for."

Me and Rina both propped up our phones, her screen sitting perfectly against her Chanel perfume bottle, while mine leaned against my pink crystal jewelry stand. We were deep in our closets, ransacking through designer pieces like we were on a timed shopping spree, tossing dresses and heels across the room like they were nothing.

"I need something that says sexy but untouchable," I said, flipping through my racks of custom pieces and limited editions. "Something that'll have these hoes sick."

Rina, still rummaging, let out a laugh. "You mean something that'll have Ren sick."

I paused for half a second before rolling my eyes. "Girl, please."

"Mmm." She dragged it out, that knowing tone in her voice. "Sure, Babydoll."

I ignored her and kept looking, finally landing on a leopard print mini dress that screamed luxury and attitude—just like me. It was skin-tight, a little lace, ruched in all the right places, and paired with my black strappy heels? Oh, the girls were seeing me tonight.

I laid it out on my bed before making my way to my vanity, sitting on the plush pink stool as I grabbed my foundation and brushes. The mirror lights glowed against my skin, giving me that perfect soft-glam lighting while I started blending.

As I was setting my face, my phone buzzed on the vanity.

Wyatt.

I rolled my eyes before even reading it.

"So you just not gonna text me back?"

I let out a dramatic sigh, tilting my head as I grabbed my phone.

"Ugh, this nigga."

"What happened now?" Rina called out, still somewhere in her closet.

"He's mad I'm not responding," I said, thumbs moving lazily across the keyboard.

"Sorry, kisses."

I hit send and immediately put my phone on Do Not Disturb before he could respond. Nigga, please.

Rina finally emerged from her closet, holding a fire red mini dress with a devilish smirk. "How much you wanna bet he's gonna pop up at the party?"

I gasped, hand on my chest. "I would literally throw up."

She cackled, flopping onto my bed. "Girl, you know he will. He's obsessed."

I picked up my lip liner, outlining my lips with a sharp precision. "He really is."

"Y'all have been on-and-off for what, a year?"

"A year too long."

Rina let out a loud laugh, stretching out on my bed. "And he still ain't got the hint."

I smacked my lips together, watching my reflection as I applied my gloss. My lips looked full and juicy, just how I liked them.

"Whew." I leaned back, admiring myself. "I look good as hell."

Rina turned her head and nodded. "Per usual."

I smiled, grabbing my lashes. "Let's talk some cash money shit while I finish getting ready."

"Oh, now you speaking my language," she said, sitting up. "Let me tell you about this tired ass girl at Saks who tried me today—"

And just like that, we fell into our usual routine—talking shit, hyping ourselves up, and getting ready to make the whole city know that, once again, Yanna Hill and Rina Collins ran this town.

Share This Chapter