Stetsons and Stakeouts

by BA Tortuga

  The Stetsons on the dashboard.

  Bonner.

  His heart stuttered a little. Yeah. Bonner was a quandary. He wanted to get to know the guy. There was a lot to like there, aside from the obvious. He wanted to… he wanted to protect Bonner, learn all his ins and outs. Maybe more.

  So…. He glanced at Chris, who’d fallen asleep. He crept out of the room, only to find Xavvy in the waiting room.

  “They only let one of us in at a time,” Xav said.

  “Yeah. You find the others and get food?”

  “I did. Thanks. It’s my turn. He sleeping?”

  “Yeah. He was in and out, but I was tickled with how lucid he was.” Gianni studied Xavvy. “You need sleep. I told Chris. You’re both welcome to stay at my place while he recovers.”

  “Yeah? It would be easier to help him there. I’ll leave when he does.”

  “Xavvy…,” he warned.

  “I said, I’ll leave when he does.”

  “At least come have a shower every so often.”

  “There’s a hotel a block over. I have a room there.”

  Gianni rolled his eyes. “Okay. Keep me in the loop.”

  “I will. You sure there’s a place—”

  “Xavvy.” He was more than sure.

  “Okay. Sure.”

  Gianni clapped him on the arm. “There’s even an elevator hidden in the back of the house if you don’t feel like you can cope with Massimo’s master bedroom downstairs.”

  “Like your folks aren’t going to show up. You just had a massacre on their ranch.”

  “Mine.”

  “What?”

  “It’s mine. I inherited it when I turned twenty-one.” And wasn’t he suddenly proud of that? What was going on with him?

  “No shit. They’ll still come. An elevator?” Xavvy caught up late.

  “Massimo put it in when Nonna wanted to come see the ranch.”

  “That’s cool. You keeping Bonner too?”

  “As long as I can.” He had no idea what to do. Gianni had never had a lover and then…. What? Almost gotten him killed? And he wasn’t a homebody. He’d see Bonner on the seven seconds he had between undercover gigs?

  Gianni sighed. Right. Now wasn’t the time for ruminating on that.

  “Man, you need to cheer up, Boyardee. I miss your normal sarcastic self.”

  “Shut up. I was just considering my future.”

  “Driving a desk because you’re old?” Xavvy looked too amused for his own well-being.

  “Yeah. More like driving a desk because last time I got shot, and this time I got other people shot.”

  “There are worse things. Shit, you could form one hell of a freelance team with the guys you got now.”

  That was a thought. Private security. Retrievals…. Huh. “I’ll see what happens after I talk to Tom.”

  “Come on. Sit with me. Just because we can.”

  “Sure.” He plopped down on a chair. “What’s on your mind?”

  Xavvy shrugged. “Just sitting seems like a bit of a luxury these days.”

  “It does. If I’m sitting, I’m wolfing down food or doing paperwork.” He studied the yellow bruises on Xavvy’s face. “How are your kidneys?”

  “It’ll take a while for them to be back to normal, you know? I don’t think normal is a thing, buddy. I think I lost normal in the sand.”

  “I hear you. I can’t seem to fucking figure out what to do. I mean, everyone’s all fucked-up.” Jesus, was he whining? He was fairly sure he was whining.

  “Well, I’ll be pissing blood for a few more weeks.” Xavvy leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Look, man, you got to get it together. I’ll give you a few days, but then I’ll kick your ass.”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Good. You’re the fucking boss. Act like it.”

  “Fuck off, Xavvy.” He bit out the words, which immediately made Xavier smile.

  “Better.”

  “Jesus. Okay, I’ll dig deep. What do you need? Do I need to send Tom here for the debrief?”

  “No, Colt got us a secure line. It’s done.” Xavvy looked too pleased for words. Asshole.

  “Good. What about at the hotel? Groceries? Clothes?”

  “I’m going to grab some stuff from Mom’s and bring it over.”

  “Okay, well, holler if you need anything. God knows I have people who can deliver.”

  “Yeah.” Xavvy looked toward the ICU like he could see Chris through the door. “He looks pretty good, doesn’t he?”

  Gianni nodded, even though he privately thought Chris’s poor head looked like mashed potatoes. “Has someone contacted his folks?”

  “I did. I encouraged them to stay in Mexico. I’ve got this.”

  “Okay. Well, don’t be surprised if they show up, as well as mine.” He winked. “Man, we would never have thought we’d end up here in high school.”

  “No. No, I never intended to come back here at all, and I sure didn’t see you as lord of the manor.”

  “Right? I never saw you as a greasy biker.” They both cracked up, and if it had an edge of hysteria, no one was saying.

  “Yeah. I need about a month in hot water, man.”

  “Oh, dude. I have a hot tub. You should come on once they move Chris to a real room. Just for an hour.”

  The look of longing on Xavvy’s face was sad and stunning, all at once.

  “Promise me you’ll come on.” Gianni pushed because he wanted Xav to feel better.

  “Yeah, once I know he’s safe.”

  “One of the guys will come over and sit with him when you do. Just in case.”

  “Yeah. I don’t want to risk him.”

  “Me either, buddy. I can’t thank you two enough. I think we might have something with one of the dead bodies.” Colt was texting him information by the ten-minute increment.

  “Good. I hope you burn these bastards to the ground.”

  “Me too, Xavvy. Me too. Okay. I want to stop and see Bonner again before I go have a meeting with Colt.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll be here. You holler if you need me.”

  “I will.”

  Xavier stood with him, so Gianni hugged the guy hard.

  “This isn’t your fault, Boyardee.”

  “My team. My responsibility.” He patted that wide chest. “Call me if you need me. Goes both ways.”

  “My Chris. My responsibility.”

  “You kiss him, and he hits you. You have to remember he has a hole in his head.” Gianni winked. “Later, man.” If he stood there, he’d never leave. Xavvy reminded him too much of him right now.

  Bonner was sleeping and hurting, tears streaking his cheeks. Poor baby.

  He checked to see if Bonner could have more drip. The guy was just miserable. He pushed the button, sitting and waiting for it to help.

  When he saw Bonner relax finally, he figured he needed to head back to the house. Gianni rose, then bent to kiss the top of Bonner’s head. “Sleep well, caro.”

  “Gianni.” The single word was barely whispered.

  “You need me to stay, Bonner?” He hated that Bonner was hurting.

  “You got to watch out….”

  “No, baby. I’m right here with you. We’re both safe.”

  “I think a horse stepped on me. I think I’m hurt.”

  “No, Bonner. Someone kidnapped you. Do you remember?” Morphine was a strange duck. It could make a man muddy as hell.

  Bonner moaned softly. “I’m… I don’t know.”

  “Shh.” He tugged that chair right up close. “I’m right here. Let the pain meds help, baby.”

  “Did the man hurt you? I tried to get to you, but… I don’t think I made it.” Bonner was muttering, caught between dreams and drugs.

  “I’m fine. Sore, but fine.” He just talked in a low voice until Bonner fell asleep-asleep again. Then he headed out to the nurse’s station. “Hey. Is there anything you can do for 501?”

  The nurse raised her head, her eyes
widening when she saw him. “Boyardee?”

  “Holy shit. Deena Murphy?” She looked… well, older. Not old, just much different. He’d adored her back in school.

  “Deena Gibbon now, but yes. What the hell? I didn’t know you were in town.”

  “Yeah. Been playing lord and master at the ranch. We had an attempted kidnapping. Me.” He pointed to his face. “Bonner is my foreman. He helped save my life. Room 501, I mean. He’s hurting bad.”

  “The doctor has a muscle relaxant in his chart. I’ll have his nurse go in and give it to him.”

  “Thanks, hon. Man, we should have coffee. You can tell me all.”

  “Only if you tell me about kidnappings and life in Italy.”

  “Done. I’ll be back to see him tomorrow.” And every day until they sent Bonner home to him.

  “I’ll keep an eye on him. Tonight will be rough.”

  “Call me if he needs someone to come sit.” When she raised a brow, he grinned. “I haven’t changed a bit, Deena.”

  “Good to know. Are you on his list?”

  “Shit or can call?” he teased. “I am, yeah.”

  “Good deal. I’ll let you know. He’ll be fine. It just hurts.” She rolled her eyes. “Just hurts.”

  “Okay. I have a billion things to take care of at the ranch, but I want him to have whatever he needs.”

  “So imperious.” She grabbed her duty phone to call Bonner’s nurse. “I’ll come in at five thirty tomorrow. I want a foot-long classic Italian.”

  Gianni barked out a laugh. “You got it.”

  “Good man. Go home, Boyardee.”

  “I will.” And he’d avoided Mason and his X-rays. Score. At least until he headed to the elevator and he got the text.

  Meet me in radiology.

  Fuck. Him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “JESUS FUCKING Christ, y’all leave me alone and let me sleep!” Every single time he dozed off, someone wanted something—vitals or blood or bandages or shit.

  Bonner was fixin’ to kill someone.

  “Well, at least you feel good enough to roar.” That was the charge nurse, Deena, who he liked well enough. “That’s what happens when you’re all broken, cowboy.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Just let me have an uninterrupted hour. You’re killing me.”

  “Let me see when your next vitals and meds are. I’ll try to space them so you get some rest.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, and Bonner fought the urge to gag.

  “God no.”

  “You need to try, honey. They’ll start talking tubes.” She smiled. “I know the meds make you queasy.”

  “Yeah, the fact that my entire backside is wired to death is a little queasy making.” He spent a lot of time on his belly.

  “I know. It will get better, and faster than you can blink.” She called up his chart on the computer. “Okay, I can get Lisa to come in and do both vitals and meds in about fifteen. Then you’ll have almost two hours off before I make her order you food.”

  “Thank you. I’m fixin’ to lose my mind here.”

  “I know, hon. I’m sorry.” She was a nice lady. They all were good folks. He just needed quiet. Sleep. To figure out if his back was going to let him ride again.

  Nope. Bonner closed his eyes. He couldn’t think about that right now. Dr. Cox always said the same thing about recovery. One day at a time. He started to doze off again, the world going a little quiet.

  Bonner floated, which was when Lisa and the bloodsucking lab guy both came in. Jesus. Patience. Patience.

  “Hey, y’all.”

  “Hey. We’ll be out of your hair in two shakes.” Lisa was the soul of efficiency. Brett from the lab, not so much.

  “You get one more shot, cowboy.” Two was it. He was tired.

  “Sorry, Bonner. You need more fluids. It’s hard to get a vein.”

  “You need some more ice water? Have you touched yours?” She brought the straw to his lips.

  He took a deep drink, grateful she had grabbed it for him. “Hurts to reach,” he gasped once he was full.

  “I’ll set it up here so you don’t have to lift or reach, man, and if someone moves it, hit the Call button.”

  “Okay.” The Call button he could do. He’d gotten the hang of it and the morphine. Of course, they were reducing that, and soon he would only be allowed pills. Which worked. He wanted out. He wanted to breathe and sleep. Dammit.

  His back was just a constant state of horror, and he couldn’t fucking move. They assured him soon he would get a therapist and a brace and he would go home. God, what was he gonna do? He couldn’t ride, he couldn’t lift shit, he hadn’t seen Bri. His phone wasn’t even with him. He had no idea where it was.

  “Do you want the TV on?” Lisa asked, already reaching for the remote deal.

  “Please. Something easy.”

  “You got it.” The TV came on, low enough it wouldn’t bother him, and he thought it was Food Network.

  “Thanks.” He closed his eyes as the lights went out. Two hours. He had two hours with a closed door, and if he had a little meltdown, wouldn’t no one know.

  Even if they did, well, he deserved it.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “SO.” GIANNI sat across the desk from Tom. He’d let Tom have his big chair. He pulled up an armchair on the other side. “Am I fired?”

  “Don’t be any dumber than you have to be, asshat. Are you going to quit?”

  “I might have to, Tom. I—I’m reprioritizing.” He wasn’t gonna lie. He and Tom had started out on the same team, and Tom had been hungry to climb the ladder.

  “Then we’ll discuss it. First things first—health check for everyone. Go.”

  “I have a broken orbital bone. Alison is bruised, but nothing broken. Same with Mason. Harrison and Kody both have mild concussions. Luis is hale and hearty. Greg was beaten badly, stabbed. The locals I hired on…. Well, Chris had to have a piece of his skull removed, and my foreman has a broken back.”

  “And Colt and the undercover biker, Xavier?”

  “Xavvy will be fine once his kidneys heal. Colt is upstairs having a breakdown.”

  “Ah. I would pretend to be surprised, but—”

  “But we all got hurt on his watch. When he starts building walls out of tuna cans, I’ll take him to the pool and hold him under until he fights back.”

  “Fair enough. Promise me when you quit you’ll take him with you.”

  Like there was any question about that. “I will. He’s indispensable to me.”

  “Good. You’re the only one that can control him.”

  “You know he’s listening, right?”

  Tom’s eyes twinkled. “Of course.”

  “I don’t suppose you want to come and work for me?”

  “Me? Nah. I want to be the head of the agency someday. But we can scratch each other’s backs. Right now, you’re on medical leave—you, Colt, everyone that needs it. We clear?”

  “Yes, sir. I understand.” Gianni did too. The agencies would finish up, and they would run an investigation on his team.

  “Good man. So, you burned a bar down, have two fatalities, twenty-seven arrests….”

  “We nailed it.” He winked. “The fatalities are on camera. They were good kills.” Twenty-seven arrests were good work.

  “Did you ever find the body that belonged to the hand?” Tom asked.

  “No, but we IDed the hand. Jaime Martinez. Low-level thug from El Paso. A bunch of drug charges, one assault.”

  “Nasty shit, this,” Tom muttered.

  “All the way around. I think we really opened a can of worms. The Rangers are kinda hysterical, and not in a funny way.”

  “Yeah, the good news is that you’ll either push them down back toward Austin or into Arkansas.”

  “That would suit me. My aunt still has to live here, and I prefer my ranch not to be a drug haven.” He grinned. “Let’s go see Colt. He’s up in his little apartment.�
��

  Tom grimaced. “Do we have to?” Tom let out a chuckle.

  “We totally do. We’re coming to see you, Four-Fingers!” Gianni called.

  He tugged out his phone while he tramped up the stairs behind Tom, sending off a quick text to Bonner’s nurse.

  How is he?

  Grumpy. OMG, she shot back.

  When are they gonna let him go?

  He knew he couldn’t bug her too much, but he felt awful for Bonner, stuck in that bed. Gianni would be grumpy as fuck too.

  He won’t eat.

  Shit. I’ll be there in an hour.

  Bonner had to eat something or they would tube him. Fluids and glucose would only do so much.

  “I take it that means you’re not coming upstairs with me.”

  “Huh?” He looked up, realizing he’d stopped. “No. I mean, yes, but just for a minute. I need to lay eyes on Colt too, but Bonner is in a bad way, and I need to make sure his billing is all ironed out as well.”

  “Fair enough.” Tom shook his head and led him upstairs. The stench was… tough. “You said tuna cans?”

  “He starts to eat like an eighty-year-old cat lady after a few days of bunkering. He ordered a delivery from town.” Gianni wrinkled his nose. “I need to get a cleaning crew in, for fuck’s sake.”

  Gianni groaned as Colt turned around. The guy looked like hammered shit—exhausted and skinny and bruised and broken. Bloodshot eyes stared at them from under a shock of dark, greasy hair. “Hey,” Colt croaked. “Tom.”

  “Bathe,” Tom spat out. “Get up and bathe now. Cesare, I want hazmat. I want Mason up here immediately, with his kit.”

  God, that was impressive.

  “You got it.” Gianni turned on his heel and ran, leaving Colt to the wolves. He dialed Mason on the way out to his truck. “Hey. Tom wants you in Colt’s aerie. Colt looks like hell.”

  “Ooh. I do love when I have permission to sedate that one. I’m on it.”

  “You are a sick fuck, Doc.”

  “Haven’t we talked about this?”

  “Maybe? It all runs together. We need to have coffee. When can Bonner come home?” The last one was the most important.

  “They’ll let him go when he eats and moves his bowels. Not a second before then, Cesare.”