Guarded

Chapter 2

"You two aren't sly," Tristan uttered, throwing a nasty screw in Sade's direction. Shane smirked, throwing Sade on the nearest sofa. 

"We got you all next time, man. Don't you worry," Shane laughed. Sade raised a perfectly threaded brow and scoffed. 

"About we," she threw her middle finger in Shane's face, showcasing her freshly manicured coffin-shaped nails, "you mean to say that you got them next time." 

Celia rolled her eyes at the pair before her. They were always arguing, she thought in amusement. 

"Well, I'm not cooking next time," she butt in, cutting off Shane's remark. 

She folded her arms across her chest in defiance, enlarging her breasts in which Tristan noticed almost immediately. He licked his lips and smirked, nasty thoughts already finding home in his mind. Celia noticed and narrowed her eyes slightly. 

"But why, lil C?" Shane groaned, sounding much like a two year old, "for real, though, you know Sade can't cook like you." Sade gasped, holding her chest in mock horror. 

"Naaaaah, get the fuck out of here. You know I come like chef Curry in the kitchen," she beamed proudly, preparing herself for the 'Hot Nigga' dance by Bobby Shmurda. 

"Hoe, don't do it," Tristan began, watching as Sade raised her arms above her head, leaned over slightly and began hitting the Shmurda. 

"Oh my Gahd," Shane finished as Celia's high pitched laugh filled the air. 

"You guys are dumb!" she spluttered, holding her stomach in pain.

*****

Shane Stowers was definitely a man of his word. Anyone who knew Shane knew what he was about. He was a dangerous thug, thrown into the street life at a young age and forced to become a man at the age of thirteen. His mentality was different. He was unlike any other nineteen year old living in the struggling streets of South London because he was much smarter than most. At sixteen years of age, he had become second in charge to one of the most influential criminals in the grimiest parts of the South and by the age of eighteen, he was receiving an income ten times the rate of someone twice his age. Although his name was well known throughout his area and beyond, nothing else about him was known. He stayed lowkey ... all about his money and his family only. At the age of fourteen, he vowed to never let a man disrespect him.

Shane Stowers was definitely a man of his word. Anyone who knew Shane knew what he was about so when Anthony Rogers and his gang dangerously tried to take his best friend Tristan's life, he knew for sure that he had to stick to his word. He normally left his dirty work to those below him but no one had ever come as close to ending Tristan's life as Mr. Rogers and his men were. 

"You all right, Rogers?" Shane greeted, excitedly smirking as he watched the man before him struggle to release himself. "Stop moving, it won't get you anywhere," he cackled loudly. 

He found the entire situation oddly amusing. Anthony didn't look like the man that he was two weeks ago. When Shane had first began his search for Rogers, he knew that it wouldn't be easy but one by one, he picked and prowled through every one of Anthony's team members until he finally came across the only one that he wanted, the only one that mattered. 

"Man, it's a shame that we gotta end this friendship here, you know," Shane grumbled, reaching for his steel baseball bat that he loved most. 

He didn't like guns, he preferred bats and because Rogers was so special, he decided to introduce his brand new and now most favourited bat. 

"Isn't she pretty?" he grinned in excitement, watching as Rogers squirmed, trying to rip his arms from the bounded seat. 

Roger's eyes were wide with horror and Shane could have sworn that he was beginning to see tears. This is what Shane loved: fear. He was much like an addict to fear but most specifically, fear from others. It made him powerful and Shane loved power.

He stalked towards Rogers, noting that he liked this particular warehouse. It was far from anything and everything and almost empty. No one would ever hear Anthony's screams. 

"It was nice knowing you," Shane grinned, raising his bat in the air, "but batter up."

Like an addict who had just received their fix, Shane was high with happiness. He'd already made a call for three of his paid escorts to clean the abandoned warehouse in which parts of Anthony's brain littered the floor and was now making another call for two of his most trusted male employees to further dismantle Roger's body and place them all within different lakes in London. After ending the call, he lazily started the engine of his Jeep Wrangler and zoomed out of the gates of the abandoned warehouse. Unlike every other time, he failed to realise that a black SUV was in tow.

"Say there ain't no hope for the youth and the truth is, there ain't no hope for the future," Shane rapped with his favourite artist, never failing to feel a stir within him as he knew that he could relate to what the deceased lyrical genius was saying. 

Shane never listened to any other artists but Tupac, Notorious B.I.G and N.W.A. He couldn't stand rappers nowadays and knew that if the artists in the past were still living, none of the rappers today would have a career.

He took a quick left, almost forgetting that he was to pick up Sade from her home as she had finished college early today and was alone in her large house. As he parked his car outside of her home and knocked on her door loudly, he couldn't help but feel unsettled. He had a bad instinct of some sort. He quickly shook it off, dismissing his weird thoughts and knocked louder.

"Just wait, man," Sade kissed her teeth, opening the door and revealing her pissed expression. 

If there was one thing that Sade hated, it was to be rushed. Shane smacked her upside the head and began walking to his car. 

"Hurry up, rude gyal," he screwed in return.

"Shane, you're a prick some -" Sade's words were cut short.

Shane's eyes widened as the sound of car tires screeching filled his ears. Sade had clocked the black SUV almost immediately and pushed Shane backwards with all her might, allowing him to take safety behind his Jeep. Bullets pierced Sade's chest one by one and the horrified expression that dawned on her face almost broke Shane's entire being. One last bullet pierced her forehead, blood immediately dripping from the wound and Sade fell limp in a distorted position on the cold concrete. Shane could not breathe. He was unable to decipher what had just happened until the sound of sirens shook him from his trance. He rushed to Sade's side, crushing her small body to his and gripped her warm hands, bringing them to his heart.

She did not move.

She was not breathing.

She was no longer alive.