Second Time Lucky (Club Decadence Book 5)

by Maddie Taylor

  “What the hell?” T bit out. “Why was Victor selling women back east,” his eyes shot to Mara apologetically, “and Esteban running drugs and guns across the border, if they could make a living the legal way?”

  “Who knows what goes on in his warped brain?” Mara returned. “The family had turned to crime well before Horatio made the company millions. I think Esteban must be growing a brain in his old age. He was trying to convince Victor to go home with him and work with Horatio when this was done. He said the toll was too high. As you can imagine, that didn’t go over so well with Victor. After that, he got so angry I lost him. I can hang in with regular everyday Spanish, but when someone gets riled, starts running off at the mouth and cursing a blue streak, I can’t keep up. The gist I got was Victor resented the idea of working for his younger cousin and that being a farmer was degrading.”

  “And wearing an orange jumpsuit for life isn’t?”

  Mara cast weary eyes at T. “As I mentioned before, he’s warped.”

  “So why is Horatio here?” Sean asked her.

  “I imagine he’s here for his uncle.”

  Sean studied the dozen men that surrounded Horatio. They sat quietly though vigilant. Their eyes were alert, shifting around the room and cutting to the door each time it opened, as if expecting something. One man looked at his phone, then leaned forward to speak to Victor. He wore a grin as he turned. Who smiled while awaiting his murder trial to begin? Something wasn’t right. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

  Cap leaned forward again. “There are four of us inside, Dex and Rick are in the corridor, and we have six armed men stationed outside. Everyone has been screened for weapons. What are you thinking we’re missing?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a feeling in my gut and I don’t like the odds.” His head tilted to the Mendoza contingent across the aisle as he met the eyes of his captain and good friend. They cut to T and then Jonas, who also looked on in concern. “It could be nothing more than a burning desire to beat the shit out of the defendant, but I don’t think so.”

  “We’ll stay alert, bud,” assured Jonas.

  “All rise!” the bailiff cried. The call to order hopefully signaled the beginning of the end for Victor Mendoza.

  * * * * *

  The opening statements took up the entire morning. Two hours after lunch, they hadn’t progressed beyond the first prosecution witness. Mara hadn’t been to court before but had watched legal dramas on TV, by comparison there were an excessive number of sidebars, objections and time spent by the judge explaining the rule of law to the defense attorney and the jury. Moreover, it was boring, nothing like The Good Wife or Boston Legal, both of which she had binge watched on Netflix while under virtual house arrest. The DA’s opening had been impressive, his case against the Mendoza’s damning, such that Mara wondered why they didn’t plea. Esteban, an old man, didn’t look like he could withstand a lengthy legal battle. As for Victor, well… Mara hoped he fought tooth and nail, going through all of his blood, drug and whore money for his defense only to wind up rotting in federal prison in the end. Oh, and she couldn’t forget about him becoming Big Luther’s bitch along the way. That would be sweet justice.

  As the afternoon dragged on, Mara leaned into Sean’s side. “At this rate, we’ll be here for months.”

  “These things can go on and on, baby. It’s almost four. The judge will call for a recess any time now.”

  Pop pop pop. Mara’s heart lurched in her chest. Dear god! She’d heard that sound before. It haunted her dreams. Harsh memories swamped her, leaving her frozen, unable to breathe, let alone think. Strong arms lifted her from her seat and carried her. Dazed, she watched as chairs were thrown aside by Cap who ran in a crouch ahead of them. Sean was on his heels, his frame curved around her back as he hauled her bodily toward the exit.

  Glass shattering, the snap of splintering wood, screams and more gunshots accompanied shouts in Spanish as chaos erupted ahead of them. Mara’s head came up, trying to see what was happening, but Sean shoved it back down, pressing it against his chest as they changed directions. Only able to see directly in front of them, she watched as Cap led them into the vacated jury box.

  Behind them, Lil T roared, “We need weapons dammit. We’re sitting ducks.”

  “I’ve got it.” Jonas replied as he produced three handguns from holsters strapped to his body. “Luger 9 mms with 18-rounds loaded. I’ve only got two extra clips; it’s all I could carry.” He passed one to each man, except Sean, who had his hands full with Mara.

  “Damn, Tech. How did you get past security?”

  “They’re titanium. It’s undetectable.”

  “Why didn’t you give them to us up front?” T demanded as he checked the load.

  “I was only 99% sure it would work,” Jonas replied. “I figured one of us going down was better than all.”

  “You just earned yourself a huge bonus my friend,” Cap vowed. “Now, let’s find a way out of here.”

  “Sean.” Mara’s voice was muffled where he still held her pressed to his chest. “I can’t breathe.” His hand eased up without letting her up. “What’s going on?”

  “There are at least three gunmen inside the courtroom. Keep your head down.” To his teammates, Sean demanded, “She needs out of here. Now.”

  A spray of more bullets punctuated his order.

  “Shit! The shooters took out the guards and are heading up front,” Jonas warned.

  “The rear door leads to the judge’s chambers and an exit out back. Sean, come with me. T, Jonas, cover us.” Cap barked his orders as he moved toward the far end of the box.

  More shots rang out.

  “Dex and Rick are here,” T called out. “They’re providing cover from the rear. Move out now!”

  To Mara, it was like the clinic shooting all over again: bullets flying, fear filled screams, complete chaos. If Sean weren’t by her side this time, she would have lost it. Scared out of her mind for him, for herself, for the rest of the team, she clung to his arm, banded like steel at her waist, moving blindly with him, going wherever he led.

  Having cleared the jury box, Cap turned, providing more cover fire as Sean and Mara passed behind him. At the door, Sean cursed. “Fuck!” Pushing Mara behind the nearby witness stand, he had her squat. “Stay low,” he commanded as he returned to the door. He gave it a kick with his size fourteen boot. She wanted to cry when it held strong.

  “Shit! It’s steel.” Twisting back, he extended his arm, shouting, “Cap. Gun.”

  Cap slapped it into his palm.

  Sean fired three times into the latch. A hearty kick once again had it slamming open.

  “Mara, let’s go.”

  She wanted to, so badly, but she couldn’t. Gladly, she would have rushed to him and escaped down the hall, away from this nightmare. It had her in its grip, however, as did the arm around her throat and the cold metal of the pistol digging into her temple.

  A look of horror flashed across Sean’s face, followed quickly by a steely mien of determination. In that split second, his weapon came up and he took aim.

  “How kind of you to make our getaway so easy, Master Sergeant. Or do you simply go by Master these days?”

  At the sound of Victor’s voice, Mara went rigid. Her chest locked up, the air trapped inside. Except for the involuntary tremor that swept through her, she was paralyzed with fear. Her eyes locked on Sean.

  “It’s time I reclaimed what is mine… mi puta. Move aside, then me and my little whore can be on our way.”

  “No—” Her attempt to speak ended with a choking sound as his fingers curled around her throat. As he squeezed, the pressure against her trachea made breathing impossible. Black spots clouded her vision and Sean’s image skewed. Her hands came up automatically, pulling frantically at the constricting fingers as she struggled and choked for air.

  “Her lips are turning blue, goddammit. Let her go. You’re already a dead man, but if you harm her, you’ll suffer. I swea
r.”

  Air rushed in as Victor eased some of the pressure. Coughing and sucking in large gulps, her vision cleared somewhat, but she froze again with his words. “I wouldn’t dream of hurting her. You see, I need her. Since you decimated my business here in Texas, her cunt will be my bread and butter until I rebuild in Mexico.”

  Mara whimpered as Sean growled with rage, his finger twitching on the trigger.

  “Easy, Sean,” Cap murmured as he came up on his right. “He’s trying to get to you.”

  Mara’s gaze flicked to Cap, and to the others standing off to the right, T and Jonas facing the chaotic courtroom prepared to protect them from an attack as this drama played out.

  “Let me go, Victor,” she managed to rasp. “You won’t get out of here alive.”

  “With my little money maker as a hostage, I will. If you give it to your old man like you did my clients, puta, he’ll want to try to keep your sexy body in one piece. As do I.” His hand slid down to her breast and squeezed cruelly.

  “Stop it!” Mara screamed as she tried to twist away.

  Victor’s arms held firm, ignoring her struggles, except to jab the gun hard against her head as a reminder. His taunts aimed at Sean continued.

  “It’d be bad for business, you see. I can sell old cunt, but not fucked up old cunt. Scars and bullet holes drive down the price. As it is, with her age, I won’t be able to charge the two or three grand a night I did when her pussy was young and fresh. We’ll have to make it up in volume. Four or five Johns a night at a few hundred a pop should do it.”

  Cruelly, he laughed as tears of shame and rage rolled down her face. She was tired of her past being thrown in her face, and especially in Sean’s face. She never wanted him to know the awful details, but they kept leaching out.

  “I hate you,” hissed out of her.

  “Aw, what is it, querida? Hubby doesn’t know that you’re a slut?”

  “Shut your vile mouth,” she screeched at the top of her lungs. “I hope he puts a bullet in your fucking skull.”

  “Mara, lock it down,” Sean urged.

  “Aw, aren’t the love birds sweet? I guess love conquers all, even with an extremely well-used teenaged pussy.”

  She didn’t think she could take anymore; she wouldn’t. If it meant dying to put an end to his torment, so be it. “I’m tired of this asshole ruining my life.”

  “I know, Mara, but you’re not alone in this. Hold it together, darlin’, and we’ll be all right.”

  It was as if Sean hadn’t spoken, hearing only Victor’s contemptuous laughter in her ear. “So sick and fucking tired,” she screamed.

  At that moment, something inside her snapped. Mara stomped down hard on his foot, grinding her heel into his instep. At the same time, she twisted in his grasp. The element of surprise on her side, she reached for his gun hand, nails digging into the vulnerable flesh on the underside of his wrist with all her might.

  As he cursed in pain and shouted for her to let go, she leaned forward and sank her teeth into the meaty part of his thumb. The gun fired by her ear. Victor jerked in surprise, but she held on, biting until he squealed like a pig and dropped it.

  “Mara,” Sean yelled. “Stand down and let us in!”

  She had no idea what he was saying, her focus solely on getting to the gun. As one, she and Victor dropped to the floor scrambling to where it lay by their feet.

  “For god’s sake, Mara, get out of the way.”

  Sean’s shout came too late, her fingers having already touched metal and latched on. She rolled to her back, clocking Victor in the jaw. His enraged face filled her field of vision as she took aim. In her mind, time slowed to half speed as he rose to his knees another gun in his hand.

  “Fucking bitch,” he shouted as it swung toward her.

  Instinctively, she squeezed the trigger as a barrage of gunshots, doubly loud at close range, exploded at once. Blood sprayed across her legs as his body jerked. As if nailed to the floor, Mara sat unmoving while Victor, blood streaming from the holes in his chest and one between his eyes, fell forward.

  It was simply too much for Mara’s terror riddled brain to process. Thankfully, instinct kicked in. She flipped to her front and scrambled away, her hands and feet slipping on the slick tile. Hands in her armpits hauled her upright. Without thinking, she turned on this newest threat, clawing and kicking as she tried to get away.

  “Nightingale. Stop!” Sean’s command cracked like a whip, cutting through her panic. She stilled, collapsed was more like it, as she fell weakly against him. “Shh, I have you. You’re safe, baby.”

  In spite of his reassuring words, she could feel tension vibrating through him. Jonas moved up on Sean’s other side, staring at the courtroom behind her.

  “Carnage,” he murmured.

  The eerie quiet behind her had Mara twisting in Sean’s arms. Jonas was right. She’d seen multiple traumas in the ER, but nothing like this. A team of paramedics worked on one victim, but there were several others. People walked around dazed, in shock. As she took in the grisly scene, her gaze fell on Victor’s lifeless body.

  “Oh my god, I killed him. I really did it this time.”

  Sean quickly turned her away.

  “No, Mara,” Cap corrected. “One of the guys got him first.”

  “I shot him in the head,” Mara insisted, unconvinced.

  “I took him out, babe,” T asserted, “a direct hit to the left of the sternum.”

  “I had the kill shot to the chest, Mara,” Jonas declared next. “This is not on you.”

  She shook her head, three of four holes accounted for. Shakily, she repeated, “No. It was me. I had the gun aimed at his head.”

  The three men looked at each other, then at Sean, before glancing away.

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do guys, but she drops her hands before she fires. Every time.”

  With Victor dead by her hand, Mara had no idea why that mattered now. She trained troubled eyes on him.

  “I don’t— ”

  “It was me, baby. I planted the bullet in the motherfucker’s brain. Call it self-defense or justifiable homicide, either way I have no remorse.” His hand came up to her face. “This is one scar that Victor fucking Mendoza can’t make you carry.”

  Mystified, she shook her head. “Then where did my bullet go?”

  “About three feet too low.”

  “His gut?”

  “Nope, further south than that. If you’re gonna shoot, Mara-mine, I’ve gotta get you back to the range.”

  “Well, fuck me,” T exclaimed. “Will you look at that? A perfect shot to the nads. Good for you, Mara. You blew the motherfuckers ball’s clean off. A fitting end, I’d say.”

  “Ohmigod! I was aiming for his head.”

  “Baby, you dropped your hands.”

  Despite the grave situation, she heard repressed laughter from the guys. Unable to stop herself, Mara’s head turned Victor’s way, but Sean’s hand cupped her jaw firmly.

  “No, baby,” he murmured. “You don’t need to see that.”

  “It’s over,” she whispered as she pressed closer into his chest. “You know, even if I wasn’t aiming there, someone upstairs was and made sure he got exactly what he deserved.”

  “Damn straight,” someone muttered. “Live by the sword; die by the sword.”

  Beginning to shake as the horror of the gruesome scene set in, her head dropped back. She met Sean’s concerned gaze, then did a sweep through the group. All of them were watching as if expecting hysterics. Despite the circumstances, her chest filled with warmth, her heart rate slowing slightly and her panic ratcheting down a notch. They had all, every one of them been ready to take the blame, to spare her that guilt if her aim had been true. She pressed against Sean, her hands clutching his shirt as she buried her face in his chest.

  “Fuck the range. I can live out my life without seeing another gun or hearing another gunshot.” Feeling his arms tighten around her, she took the first deep brea
th in what felt like an eternity.

  He didn’t answer, but she felt his body shake. The chuckles around her told her these tough men, who had dealt with this type of situation—the intense adrenaline rush, the emotion, the drama, the guns and the gore—for most of their adult lives, found her amusing. She didn’t care. Let them be the badasses. Nursing suited her just fine. She’d patch up the holes any day rather than make them.

  “A word, por favor.”

  Sean’s body, gone rigid at the first syllable in heavily accented Spanish, shoved Mara behind him. Cap and Jonas pressed close to form a protective wall, but not before she saw the speaker. Horatio Mendoza, noticeably rattled, stood about thirty feet away. “This ends here. I’ve lost nearly all of my family and too many men, friends who served us loyally for years, some their entire lives. No mas. This is Victor’s nightmare, not mine. With him gone, the Mendoza drug cartel is no more.”

  “What about your uncle?” Sean pressed. “Does he agree it’s no mas?”

  Peeking between broad shoulders, Mara followed Horatio’s gaze to where paramedics worked on the old man. “Tio Esteban was shot in the stomach in this ridiculous mess. If he survives, I can guarantee it’s the end for him too.” His message delivered, he went back to his uncle who was being wheeled out by EMS. He didn’t look back. There was no purpose.

  “Hell,” Lil T said into the near deafening silence that followed. “Does this mean this case is finally over?”

  Cap grunted. “It appears so, and none too soon. I’m tired of this shit.”

  “Lucky?”

  “Yes, baby?”

  She pushed through the muscled wall to face him. “I hate to burst your bubble, but isn’t there one other loose end?”

  He stared down at her, as did the other men.

  “What about Richard Stapleton?”

  “Hell,” grumbled Lil T. “In our excitement to be done with this crap, we forgot about Dick.”

  Cap sighed. “Meeting at eight tomorrow and we’ll get on it.”

  His announcement was met with groans.

  “All right, make it nine. Civilian life has made you guys soft.” No one argued, knowing it was far from true. “After we bring in Stapleton,” Cap went on, “maybe we can take on some easy, mundane cases and be normal security professionals for a change. My wife would like that.”