Connor (In the Company of Snipers Book 5)

by Irish Winters

  Connor stared at the kid, wishing he could see what else was inside that angry head. He was missing part of the puzzle here. Why was Ricardo seeking revenge for the parents he hated?

  “So what’s the next question, cop? Huh?” Ricardo wiped his nose on the sleeve of his hoody. “You wanna know why I’m gonna kill you?”

  “No, but you look thirsty. Can I get you anything to drink?”

  Ricardo frowned, his head cocked as if he hadn’t heard right. “You what? You want to get me something to drink? Are you stupid?”

  “Probably.” Connor holstered his gun and stepped toward Ricardo. “But I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to kill anyone.”

  The young man’s jaw dropped when Connor approached. He didn’t stop until his chest pressed hard against the barrel of the lethal weapon.

  “You don’t really want to kill me, do you?”

  “Yes, I do. What? You think you’re so tough. You think—”

  “No, but you are not a cold-blooded killer.” Connor peered deeply into the young man’s eyes. Dark brown, angry, and hurt. That was the color glistening there. “Are you, Ricardo?”

  “But I... I….”

  “You’re all alone now, aren’t you?”

  “It’s just that...” Ricardo blinked hard, the barrel of his gun still pressed against Connor’s heart. “It’s just that I... I....”

  “Let’s talk. Just for a minute. Then you can kill me if you still want to.”

  The angst left Ricardo’s face in a heartbeat. He lowered his weapon. His shoulders sagged in defeat. “I’m not going to kill you. My father was right. I’m worthless.”

  “No, you are not.” Connor steered the boy to the couch and away from Izza. She rolled her eyes in relief and hurried into their bedroom with Jamie. He felt certain she would call the police, but in a way, he hoped she wouldn’t.

  Ricardo’s lips quivered. Tears shimmered in his eyes. “They took everything. The police came in and... I hated my father. He was mean. He called me fat and stupid. He said I was nothing. I’m the most worthless piece of crap on the planet! I can’t even do what I came here to do.”

  “No, you’re not,” Connor said evenly. “You’re a young man who’s lost everything.”

  Ricardo wiped his face again. “He said he would arrange it so all I had to do was grow up and start acting like a man. That’s all he ever said. Grow up. Be a man. Well, I don’t want to be a man if I have to be like him.”

  Connor let the young man talk.

  “He was a pig. I know they were sister and brother. I had disgusting pigs for parents. What does that make me?”

  Izza padded silently out of the bedroom and into their kitchenette. In a tremendous show of courage, she brought a tray of refreshments to the coffee table in front of Connor and Ricardo. “Would you like some lemonade?” she asked, and Connor could have kissed her right then and there. That’s why he loved her. She knew exactly what this poor damned kid was going through, and she was not afraid to reach out to him.

  Ricardo looked up at her in shock. “Me?”

  She stood over him for a moment, hesitated and said, “I have some really good fajitas if you’re hungry. Come on. Let’s eat.”

  He looked back to Connor, dumbfounded. “I don’t get it. You folks are being nice to me. I... I don’t know what to do!” He crumbled into the snot-nosed kid he really was.

  Connor took a deep breath as he absorbed the troubled condition of Alejandra and Javier’s only child. The product of an incestuous affair, the boy appeared to have had too many strikes against him to please his arrogant father. But the real problem seemed to be in Ricardo’s head and heart. He was not cut from the same vulgar cloth as his parents.

  “You’re already a man,” he said quietly, pondering his options. He had every right to turn this kid over to the authorities. “The real question is what kind of man do you want to be? Do you still want to kill the woman I love and our baby? For that matter, do you want to kill anyone?”

  Ricardo shook his head and handed the gun over. Connor swiftly switched the safety on and stowed it on the floor beside him.

  “I didn’t really want to kill anybody. It’s just that...” Ricardo wiped his face with the sleeve of his hoody. “My father always said that a real man must avenge his family. He must kill the people who murdered his loved ones. I was just... I was just....”

  “You were trying to be a real man according to your father’s definition, but that would make you just like him. Is that who you want to be?”

  “No!” Ricardo buried his face in his arms. “I don’t want to be like him. I don’t.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I am fifteen and a half, almost sixteen.”

  Connor sighed. He had a sixteen-year-old brother, but Ricardo and Matt had nothing in common. The Mahers were poor by Boston standards, but somehow, the son of a filthy rich cartel boss had less.

  Izza brought a tray of the best Mexican food in SLC to the coffee table. She shrugged apologetically. “It’s not much, but it’s really good. There’s more salsa if you want some.”

  Ricardo covered his face and sobbed, his shoulders shuddering at the change in events. Connor wrapped his arm around Izza when she sat beside him, her hand on his knee and the tenderest smile tugging her lips.

  “Izza, this is my new friend, Ricardo,” Connor said honestly. “He’s one lucky kid.”

  “I am?”

  “Sure,” Izza soothed. “Look at you. You have your whole life ahead of you. Did you know you have two little sisters?”

  He frowned. “I do?”

  Izza left Connor’s side to sit alongside Ricardo, and Connor fell in love with her all over again. She read this poor kid like a book. “Yes, Ricardo. Your mother had two little girls with Miguel Ramirez. Christina is five and Sophia is only three. They are your half-sisters.”

  Ricardo’s blank look told Connor plenty. She’d just dumped another boatload of crap on this poor boy. He knew nothing about his mother’s other life, only that she’d left him for – what? A contrived marriage? A plan so insidious she was willing to bear another man’s children in order to take over his drug business? The depth of Alejandra’s deceit astounded Connor. In the end, she had sacrificed all three of her children for worthless greedy power.

  But the young man wasn’t dumb. His silence was punctuated with blinks and sighs as Ricardo connected what he already knew. There was resignation and sadness in his voice when he finally spoke. “That must be why she left when I was ten. Mama said looking at me made her sad. She had to leave so she wouldn’t have to see me every day. It’s because of my... my....” He hiccupped so hard, he couldn’t continue.

  “You have a slight harelip,” Connor intervened. “That can be corrected with a surgical procedure. I’d be glad to pay for it if you’d let me. My little brother was born with the same thing.”

  The revelations of the night proved too much. With an anguished groan, he leaned back into the couch and covered his face with both hands again.

  Izza put her arm around the young man’s heaving shoulders. “It’s okay,” she crooned. “It’s going to be different now. You’ll be okay.”

  Her words only made him cry harder. Connor’s eyes grew a little misty too. In a way, their murderer was Izza all over again, mad as hell at the world and all alone.

  He thumped Ricardo’s knee with his fist. “I know a guy who can put you in touch with your sisters,” he said. “They’re living in Juarez, Mexico, with a very good woman and her family.”

  “No. I don’t deserve any of this. Besides, I don’t know them. I couldn’t.”

  “Well, you sure don’t deserve what’s already happened, do you? Besides, everyone deserves a second chance, especially someone who has decided to be a real man. You have a tough job ahead of you. Those two little girls do, too. They’ve lost their mother and father. They could use a good big brother to stick up for them when people start talking behind their backs and pointing fingers.”


  Ricardo dried his eyes. “But do they already know about... me?”

  “Like what?” Connor asked softly.

  “Do they know that... that I am so ugly?”

  Izza gasped. “You are not ugly,” she declared vehemently. “A real man is judged by his choices, not his looks. And I’ll knock the jerk on his butt who says different.”

  Ricardo sat blinking furiously. “That would be my father,” he said meekly. “You would have to travel all the way to hell to knock him on his butt.”

  “Listen.” Izza scooted closer to him, her dander up and all those motherly, big sister instincts alive and well. “My father wasn’t so nice either. He used to beat me and my brother like red-headed stepchildren. You want to know what I did?”

  “What?” he asked shyly.

  Connor could not help the smile tugging his lip. Ricardo had gone from a wanna-be tough guy to a shy young man with a no-kidding gorgeous woman talking to him. He seemed to be having a hard time making direct eye contact with Izza all of a sudden.

  “I got the hell away from my old man the first chance I could and I never looked back. I joined the Marines, that’s what I did.” Izza bragged like the true jarhead she was. “My baby brother did, too. I haven’t regretted it for one second.” She shot Connor a tender glance. “My brother died a hero, Ricardo. We both had a mean SOB for a father, but Jamie still died a hundred times a better man than our old man was.”

  Connor leaned back into the couch. No matter which road he chose to follow, Ricardo would never forget the day he met Isabella Ramos.

  “Do you really think I could be a hero?” he asked.

  “You already are,” Connor replied. “The minute you put that gun down, you proved what kind of man you are.”

  “Are you going to call the police?” he asked.

  Connor pursed his lips in thought. That was a tough one. He should contact the authorities. Ricardo had committed a serious transgression.

  Izza didn’t seem to need any time to think about it. She interrupted his moment of silence with a pointed, “Hell no. We don’t call the cops on heroes, do we?”

  “It would be an honor to help you locate your sisters,” Connor replied evenly. The juvenile system did not need another young man. He needed family. Not state.

  The transformation took place immediately. Ricardo stiffened his back and blinked away his tears. “I would very much like to meet my little sisters. I think maybe they might like a big brother, don’t you?”

  “I know they would.” Connor extended his hand, but Ricardo needed more. With a sob, he threw himself into Connor’s arms, just another lost kid who needed someone in the world to care. Izza wiped her eyes. The would-be murderer had vanished, replaced instead by a humble young man. Connor thumped Ricardo extra hard on the back before he released him.

  “Just because Izza joined the Marines doesn’t mean you should,” he said. “You’ll have your hands full being a big brother. That’s enough responsibility for now. Ask me. I’ve got six.”

  “I always wanted a sister or a brother,” Ricardo said. “It has been a very lonely life being my father’s son.”

  “Hey.” Izza elbowed him. “You’ve got family now.”

  Connor grinned. Judging by the flush creeping up this young man’s neck, he was not exactly thinking brotherly thoughts. “I think I heard Jamie,” Connor interrupted all the sisterly love.

  That got Izza out of earshot for a couple minutes.

  He grew serious the second she closed the bedroom door behind her. “Listen, Ricardo. I’m keeping your weapon. You’re damned lucky the way things turned out today. Not only did you break the law, but you picked the wrong woman to mess with. Izza’s a trained USMC police sniper. She held the record while we were in Iraq for the fastest draw, too. That she didn’t take your head off the moment you showed up tells me she sees something special in you. Don’t let her down.”

  Ricardo cast a furtive glance toward the bedroom door where Izza had gone. “You are very lucky.”

  “Yes, I am,” Connor agreed. “Now stop looking at my woman and dig in. You want some guacamole?”

  EPILOGUE

  Connor surveyed his handiwork. It was perfect. An ice bucket with a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne already chilled. A dozen candles lit and glowing. Mounds of bubbles. Two luxurious bathrobes. Fluted champagne glasses. Barely audible music. As soon as Izza finished feeding Jamie, he planned to whisk her away for a night of water sports and romance.

  He hoped.

  As soon as they’d returned to Alexandria, he’d housed Izza and Jamie at a first class hotel while he moved his bachelor’s household into a larger and more family-friendly apartment. The baby’s room was now decorated in peach and something called mint green at Izza’s request. The antique baby bed and dresser his mother had shipped from Boston graced the wall beneath the window. Izza helped him select their new bedroom set, a cherry wood four-poster with a simple white comforter. They’d both been too tired for romance, but tonight was the night.

  He hoped.

  Besides, his mother would arrive next week to help out. Yes, she wanted to meet Izza, but Connor also knew Bridgette Maher couldn’t wait to get her hands on her first granddaughter. Jamie was never out of one or the other’s arms as it was. Tonight had to be the night.

  He really, really hoped.

  Connor stepped into the bedroom to see how his two favorite girls were doing. Izza lay in the middle of their bed, pillows propped around her and Jamie. Dressed in comfortable blue jeans and a pale blue button-down blouse, she looked the picture of contentment. Connor stretched out behind her, his fingers gently tracing Jamie’s soft cheek as she suckled.

  “How are my girls?” He placed a kiss at the side of Izza’s head.

  “Happy.” She smiled all the time now.

  Connor ran his fingers through her luxurious hair. She rarely pulled it back into a ponytail anymore, and she never looked prettier. He loved that he was a part of the simple act of her feeding Jamie, Izza’s breast laid bare as the tiny child slurped like she was starving.

  The little girl had a regular schedule. Sleep two hours. Eat like its going out of style. Sleep another two hours. Starving again. Even now her lip smacking noises while she suckled made him smile. She might be Izza’s sweet little daughter, but she sounded like one of the Maher boys at chowtime. Between that and her cute way of passing gas, without a doubt she was Connor’s girl.

  “My mother will want to hold Jamie the whole time she’s here.” Connor pulled Izza’s blouse back to place a row of kisses along her bare shoulder.

  She shivered. “I feel like I know her already. Is her room ready?”

  “Oh, yes. Everything is ready.”

  “You should see your face,” Izza looked up at him, her dark eyes aglow. “You have the handsomest smile right now.”

  “I do, huh.” He couldn’t remember ever feeling this good, a tremendously sexy woman comfortable in his bed with his child snuggled in her arms. Could there be a more perfect picture?

  “What do you think Boomerang is doing right now?” she asked.

  “Probably wishing someone would toss him a few rabbit bones. That scoundrel had it pretty easy while we were there, didn’t he?”

  Her eyes lit up. “So did Homer. I still think he would’ve made a good turtle stew, though.”

  Connor chuckled. “Speaking of faces, you should have seen the look on yours that morning. I almost thought you might do it for a moment there.”

  “I could’ve done it until you named him. I was so hungry I thought I was going to die.”

  “The only time I thought I was dying was when you played doctor.” He kissed her again.

  Izza chuckled deliciously. “I’m just glad it worked.”

  “Me, too. You saved my life. That was good thinking.”

  “You saved mine, too.” Izza rolled out of bed and moved the sleeping baby to her nearby crib. “I was starving until you snared those rabbits.”

&
nbsp; “And you didn’t think I had any skills, did you?” He arched his eyebrow mischievously as he stood over the crib with her. Jamie hadn’t budged when Izza transferred her to the crib, another sign she was a Maher—comatose after a full stomach. “I’d like to take you up on your offer,” he said quietly.

  “Offer? What offer is that? I don’t remember making you any offer.”

  “Oh, yes. You made a definite offer in the cave when we went exploring. The one about a bubble bath, remember?” With that unanswered question, Connor scooped Izza over his shoulder and hauled her off to the bathroom.

  “Connor,” she whisper giggled. “Put me down.”

  He complied by depositing her into their over-sized tub, clothes and all. She came up sputtering and laughing, her hair wet and bubbles from head to toe. Grabbing him, Izza pulled him in with her. Water sloshed everywhere in the playful mayhem that followed, and within minutes, she had him pinned—right where he wanted her.

  He grinned through the bubbles as he unbuttoned her shirt. “This has to go.”

  She pulled his shirt over his head. “So does this.”

  Before long, two shirts and one lacy bra lay in puddles on the tile floor. Connor had Izza in a lip lock that wouldn’t stop. Her hands roamed over his shoulders and down the muscles of his stomach. She nestled on top of him. He cupped each breast, gently massaging as she lavished kisses over his lips, chin, and jaw. Moving against the light pressure of her lithe body, his hands wandered down her ribcage and over her hips until they came to flex on her jean’s pockets.

  She giggled. “Something in your way, Boston?”

  He opened his eyes to the most gorgeous woman in the world. Izza rose steaming above him, her bare body spiking his feelings all the more. With a surge of foamy bath water all over the floor, he stood and pulled her up with him. Kneeling in front of her, he unsnapped and unzipped her jeans. Izza gazed down at him. Her wet hair straggled over her breasts, her eyes dark with desire.

  Connor’s breath caught. Never had he seen a more glorious sight. Here he was, nothing more than a humble man on his knees before an angel.