A Santini's Heart (The Santinis Book 10)

by Melissa Schroeder

  There was a beat of silence. “Do you know where Ms. Mendoza is now?”

  “On her way back to her house. I should be passing it in just a few more minutes.”

  “I’ll try calling her, but it sounds like you’re closer. I hate that I can’t get hold of her. Would you mind stopping by her place? I’m sending one of my deputies out there, but I think you can at least get there first.”

  “Sure. I’ll call as soon as I arrive.”

  He clicked off the phone, mentally assuring himself there was nothing wrong.

  Tia practically two-stepped into her house. She couldn’t remember having such a wonderful time. She’d gotten to see her parents and there were no fights. They even approved of what she was doing now. They had in the past, but they wanted her to leave when Adrian had died. Now, she saw that they finally understood her.

  Thanks to Carlos.

  Carlos.

  Just thinking his name made her happy. She couldn’t remember ever being this happy, and definitely not since Adrian had died.

  When she realized she was standing there daydreaming about Carlos, she ordered herself to get to work. She had to do a few loads of laundry and go through her mail.

  When she stepped into her kitchen, she realized she wasn’t alone. Chet was sitting at her kitchen table.

  “Hey, Tia.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  Then she saw the gun he had resting on the table. He had his hand on top of it, ready to pull it up and shoot if need be. She froze. Her brain, her muscles, even her breath. She couldn’t seem to get herself to move.

  “I think we need to have a talk about the land.”

  His absurd comment seemed to pull her out of her frozen state. “I think you need to leave.”

  “No. I can’t. Don’t you understand how valuable everything is here?”

  “Yes, but probably not the way you do.”

  “Figures. You and your brother are so much alike,” he sneered.

  “So, what’s the plan here, Chet? You’re going to shoot me?”

  “If I have to. You said it yourself, Santini can’t run the place without you.”

  “I was sort of joking, Chet. Carlos isn’t about to shut the place down if something happens to me.”

  “Liar.”

  “So, you’ll kill me and then he will shut it down. How do you plan on getting away with murder?”

  “It’s kind of hard to investigate when there is no body.”

  Carlos pulled up to Tia’s house knowing in his gut something was wrong. There was no indication of foul play, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. He remembered the last time he had felt it. It had been in Iraq, and he had ended up in the hospital that night.

  Her truck was parked in the drive as usual, but nothing else seemed to move. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the world. With care, he closed the door of his truck and walked up to the front of the house. At first he saw nothing. The house seemed abandoned, but then, he heard the voices.

  “Why do you want this land so badly?”

  “I need the money.”

  “But, this makes no sense. Wait, were you the one who broke into my house?”

  Chet said nothing for a long moment, and Carlos inched closer to get a look. He could see the back of Tia’s head, which told him they were in the kitchen.

  “Yes. It was me.”

  “Why the hell did you do that? And how are you going to get money off my death?”

  The last two words of the sentence sent an icy shiver down his spine.

  He had to get to her before anything happened, and the best line of attack was going to be through the back door. Crouching to make sure he wasn’t seen through the windows, Carlos made his way to the back door. By the time he got there, Chet was babbling on.

  “First, I thought I could find the note your brother wrote up.”

  “You are still not making any sense. And why are you telling me all this? Why don’t you just kill me?”

  Anger and fear left him feeling lightheaded. When he got them out of this situation, Carlos was going to kill her himself. Seriously. The woman would know how to antagonize a saint.

  “You have to understand. I need this money. I tried to tell him that the night of the accident.”

  She sighed, her irritation obvious. “None of this makes sense, and you’re making my head hurt. What are you talking about?”

  “Two years ago, I went to Adrian. I told him I needed help. He wanted to take me to a fucking meeting for gambler’s anonymous.”

  “You have a gambling problem?” she asked, condescension threading her voice. Again, he was going to have to talk to her about not pissing off a man who was holding a gun, Carlos thought.

  “No, I don’t have a damn gambling problem. Just a string of bad luck.”

  “But Adrian wouldn’t help you without you getting help.”

  “That’s what he said. I truly didn’t mean to hit him that night. I was following him back to the ranch to talk to him, lost control of my car and hit him.”

  “You killed my brother?” Tia asked. He heard the pain and anger vibrating in her voice. Carlos’ blood ran cold. The bastard just admitted to killing Adrian. Unless Carlos did something, Tia would not survive tonight. Chet had nothing to lose. Carlos peeked through the window and saw Chet move closer. He only had a few seconds before the idiot might shoot her.

  “It was an accident, he whined. Tell me where the papers are.”

  He could see the confusion on her face. “What papers?”

  “The ones your brother had drawn up.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “I looked for them, but couldn’t find them.”

  “And, this is why you’re going to kill me?”

  “No. Aren’t you paying attention to me?”

  Chet’s voice rose to an almost deafening level, and Carlos had had enough. He crawled over to the door and carefully turned the knob. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found it unlocked. Rising up, he decided not to wait for the sheriff.

  Tia watched in horror as Carlos barged through the door. Chet swung around with that damned loaded forty-five and aimed it straight at Carlos’ chest. Without anything to protect him, he was going to get killed. With a scream, she launched herself at Chet. The gun went off as they toppled to the floor. The gun slid across the kitchen floor. She crawled over the howling Chet to grab it.

  She pointed it at his head.

  “Don’t move, bastard.”

  He froze.

  “Good boy.”

  Sirens sounded in the distance. And she moved closer to Carlos.

  “Carlos, are you okay?”

  He didn’t answer her, and she looked down. He was squinting up at her.

  “Carlos?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I guess you really didn’t need me.”

  As police came swarming into the house, they took care of Chet, and she really looked at Carlos then. He looked pale, but fine…until she saw all the blood staining the front of his shirt.

  “You’re hit.”

  He looked down.

  “Well, crap.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Tia marched into the ER with a mission. No one was going to tell her she couldn’t see Carlos. His parents were on their way, but no one was going to keep her from being by his side.

  It had taken her longer than she wanted to give her first statement to the police. They wanted something more detailed tomorrow, but they had finally released her. She knew that Carlos had been taken to the hospital, and they had told her it wasn’t serious. Until she laid eyes on him though, she wasn’t going to be okay with any of this.

  Just as she neared the doors, a young nurse stepped into her way. “Do you have a family member here?”

  She opened her mouth to answer, but a familiar voice from her past sounded behind her.

  “Let her in, Jainey. She’s here to see Santini. I’ll take
her back.”

  She turned. Nancy had been the nurse who had been by her side the moment Adrian had taken his last breath. She was probably close to her mother’s age, with kind eyes and an even kinder disposition.

  “Thank you.”

  She nodded as she urged Tia forward. They walked side-by-side down the hall. It was quiet, except for the beeps of machines and the low murmur of voices. The scent of antiseptic cleaner filled her senses. She hated the smell of it because it always reminded her of the night Adrian died. When they reached the room, Nancy stopped her.

  “He doesn’t have any complications, and he refused pain meds.” She rolled her eyes. “Men. But, the doctor is prescribing him some, and I assume you will take care of him?”

  “Yes.” There was no question about that.

  “It was just a graze, but make sure he keeps it clean. And, please, make him take some pain meds. He needs to rest to heal.”

  “Thank you, Nancy.”

  Her expression softened even more. “I didn’t know if you remembered me. And, before you say anything, it’s okay if people forget me. They often spend some of the worst days of their life near me,” she said with a chuckle. “Now, go see him. He was already complaining and demanding to see you.”

  “Thank you, again.”

  Tia drew in a deep breath and opened the door. Carlos was sitting on the bed, his shoulder wrapped up. He had his jeans and boots on, but nothing else. The fact that he was safe brought tears to her eyes. She blinked, trying to keep them from falling, but it had the opposite effect. When Carlos looked at her, horror etched his features.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  She wiped away some of the tears, but they just kept falling. He was safe, that was all that mattered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re crying. You don’t cry.”

  “I do cry.”

  He frowned at her harder. “Well, stop it. Right now.”

  She wasn’t sure if she heard him right. “Excuse me?”

  “Stop crying.”

  She blinked and, for a moment, she did stop crying. Mainly because she was stunned at the order. Then anger came marching back in.

  “I’ll cry if I want to.”

  He gave her a disgruntled look. “I refuse to allow it.”

  “I don’t care what you refuse to allow, you oaf.”

  “You never cry. You only cried once in all the time I have known you and that was…” he made a motion with his hands. They both knew he meant when Adrian had died. “I see no reason for you to cry right now.”

  “I cry when I am in pain, or tired, and I damned sure cry when someone I love has been hurt.” She shouted the last part of the sentence. Before either of them could respond, the door burst open. Marcella came rushing in, Tony on her heels.

  “What happened?” She grabbed Tia and pulled her into her arms. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just a bruise or two.”

  “What do you mean you have a bruise?” Carlos demanded.

  Marcella pulled back. “Has he been a pain?”

  She nodded. “And he told me not to cry.”

  His mother looked at Carlos ready to yell at him, but her expression softened. After giving Tia’s hand another squeeze, she moved over to her son.

  “How are you?”

  “Fine now that you noticed I was in the room.”

  Marcella shook her head and leaned down to kiss his cheek. She whispered something in his ear that made him smile.

  When she pulled back, she smiled at Tia. “See, everything is okay. Carlos is safe.”

  Tia nodded as Joey walked into the room followed by her husband.

  “They said you can go home as soon as you sign some papers. I think your mother should be out at the house to take care of you.”

  “No one asked,” Carlos said.

  “Carlos, I raised you better than that,” Marcella said.

  “He won’t take his pain pills,” Tia offered.

  “Oh, that explains it then. He gets so grumpy when he’s in pain.”

  “Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?” Tony asked.

  “I can,” Tia said. “I talked to the sheriff. It seems some companies are betting that they will be able to frack in the area. Our land sits over some natural gas, or so they say. Chet wanted to get his hands on it.”

  “How?”

  “The sheriff said that Chet thought my brother had left some kind of papers behind. When he had asked for help to start the ranch, Adrian had papers drawn up. For some reason, Chet thought he could steal the papers and forge them.”

  “Have you seen the papers?” Tony asked.

  She shook her head. “More than likely, Adrian shredded them.”

  “But why go after you?” Marcella asked.

  “I made a comment that the whole ranch would shut down without me. Chet thought I was serious. He has enough money to buy the ranch. Well, if Carlos sold it at the old appraised value. Chet thought without me in the picture, he could buy the land. And yes, none of it makes sense, but Chet owes some very bad people money. He wasn’t thinking right. Add in the drugs and alcohol...he’s on the edge.”

  Jainey, the nurse, came in then stopped abruptly. She looked at Carlos. “You have a large family.”

  Carlos shook his head. “You have no idea.”

  “Sign these and you are out of here. Do you have someone to take you home?”

  “I’ve got it,” Tia said.

  “I can drive.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him to shut up, but the nurse saved Tia from a fight.

  “Actually, you can’t. Not allowed. So we need someone to say they will drive you.”

  “I said I have it.”

  He gave her a nasty look, but said nothing else. At least she knew she had won this battle. It would give her a little downtime to prepare for the next one.

  By the time they got home, it was the middle of the night. Actually, Carlos thought it was almost morning.

  “I can walk into the house without your assistance, thank you very much.”

  She was really starting to irritate him. He didn’t need to be babied. The fact that she thought he was weak enough to need her help was embarrassing him. She said nothing to that, which irritated him even more. Normally, Tia would tell him to shut the hell up and suck it up like a man. Now she was just allowing him to say all kinds of horrible things. That made everything so much worse.

  By the time he made it into the house, he was out of breath. Dammit, it was just a flesh wound. Not even close to what he’d endured in Iraq.

  A wave of dizziness smacked him, as the room started to spin. He grabbed the bannister to steady himself.

  “Dammit, you hard-headed idiot,” Tia said as she stepped close to him.

  She didn’t ask before wrapping her arm around him and helping him up the stairs. By the time they reached the top, they were both out of breath. He was beyond lightheaded.

  “I got it,” he said, ignoring the panic that threatened to choke him.

  But as he stepped away, the hallway turned into a fucking carousel again. Tia muttered something under her breath and grabbed him. She continued to cuss up a storm as she pulled him through the doorway and into his room.

  “Sit down.”

  She didn’t wait for him to do it. She just shoved him down.

  “Hey,” he said, ready to lay into her, but she obviously didn’t want to argue anymore.

  “You are going to listen to me, Santini. I am not going to deal with another of your pig-headed dumbass moves. You are going to rest, and you’re going to deal with the panic.”

  “I’m not panicking.” Not really.

  “You are and it makes sense. The smells, the actions, it all had to mimic what happened in Iraq. Sit. Stay.”

  “I’m not a fucking dog.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  She said nothing else as she turned and headed back downstairs. She was mad at him, and while he w
asn’t sure why, he could understand it. He had been an ass all the way home. And worse, she was right. From the moment he had smelled the gun powder, his brain had been sending distress signals to his heart.

  He lifted his legs up to settle back on the mattress. Then, he closed his eyes. His shoulder hurt, but not much. Closing his eyes, he drew in a long, steady breath and did the exercises his therapist had taught him. It had been so long since he had been forced to use them, but he could already feel his heartbeat slowing and his breathing normalize.

  When he opened his eyes, he found Tia watching him from the doorway. She was holding his prescription bottle and a glass of water.

  “Feel better?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  She walked over and handed him the glass of water. Then she opened the bottle of painkillers.

  “I don’t want to take anything.”

  “Well, you are. You need to get a little rest to heal, Carlos.”

  He didn’t want it. Pain pills always made him sleepy and dulled his senses. It wasn’t a feeling he liked.

  “How about half a dose? Just enough to take the edge off.”

  He hesitated, then nodded. He accepted the pill and took it without arguing. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her by the wrist. “Don’t go.”

  She smiled. “I was just going to take off my boots.”

  He nodded, but he didn’t let go of her.

  “Carlos?”

  “You said something at the hospital. I want to know if it’s true.”

  She studied him for a long moment. “I always say what I mean. You know that.”

  Of course, she was evading the answer he sought. She might say what she meant most of the time, but she was avoiding the answer he needed to hear.

  He slipped his hand down to weave his fingers between hers. He tugged on her hand and urged her to sit down on the bed with him.

  “Tell me.”

  She sighed. “I said it already.”

  “Tia.”

  “Okay, I love you. Feel better?”

  “Yes. A lot.”

  She said nothing for a long time, then she looked away.

  “What’s wrong? You know I love you.”

  She nodded and sniffed. God, if she started crying again, he was surely going to lose it.