by J. E. Parker
I needed to get back home, the place I’d left Carmen sitting at my kitchen table, gossiping the afternoon away with Shelby, Ashley Jo, and Jade after she’d returned from the shelter, where she’d landed a part-time job and gained one hell of a confidence boost.
I was so proud of her.
More than words could ever say.
Though they weren’t alone—Hendrix was watching over them, most likely sitting on the front porch, guarding the door like a sentinel as the kids played in the yard—I was on edge, my anxiety sky-high thanks to not being at their sides.
Point blank, I hadn’t wanted to leave.
But unfortunately, with the business that needed handling looming, I’d had no choice but to do just that. I knew they’d be safe with my boy close by, and with the Crazy Old Biddy right next door, more than willing to shoot somebody if they dared mess with her grandbabies, but my chest ached at their absence.
Again, I needed to get back home.
Where my family waited.
“Don’t act like you didn’t hear me when we both know that you damn well did,” I replied, keeping a tight grip on my volatile temper. Frustrated eyes never leaving Anthony’s ticked off ones, I repeated my words from seconds before. “I need you to help me find Carmen’s brother.”
He scoffed, then chuckled, the sound humorless. “Oh, I understand that part fine. It’s the whole Cartel bit that I’m hung up on.” Leaning forward, he placed his palms flat on the desk and sneered my way. “Have you lost your mind?”
My cheek ticked. “No.”
“You sure, James? Because to me, it sounds like you’ve gone off the deep end.” Dropping back into his rolling desk chair, he mumbled, “The Colombian Cartel. If this doesn’t take the fucking cake, then—”
“You, of all people,” I interjected, cutting his bullshit off before he could get started, “know what it’s like to want to right every wrong that life handed your woman before you were around to protect her.”
After everything he’d been through trying to fix the shitty hand my daughter had been dealt before she found her way into his arms, most of which I couldn’t even think about without wanting to stick my fist through the nearest wall, he and I both knew he understood where I was coming from.
Whether or not he admitted it.
“And me finding Carmen’s younger brother”—I noted the way his body had stilled, my earlier words hitting their mark—“the same one that the Cartel ripped from her the night they killed her mother and kidnapped her, is me doing that.”
I moved into the room, my temper rising with each step. “So are you going to help me or not? Because if not, then tell me now and I’ll head on up the road and speak to someone who will.”
For the right price, I mentally added.
“Yeah? And who would that be?”
My eyes narrowed. “You know who.”
The phone on his desk rang, the high-pitched sound piercing the air, but he ignored it as he stared at me, mouth agape. “You can’t be serious.” The hell I wasn’t. “I get why you’re doing this”—he gritted his back teeth—“but the last thing you want is to get the Kings involved.”
“I’m not planning on getting the Kings involved...” He sighed in relief before I could finish. Tensed shoulders relaxing the slightest bit, he picked up a sheet of paper and looked down at it, seeming to breathe a little easier. Too bad it didn’t last. “Only Ari.”
Hand fisting, the paper he held crinkled as he looked back up, his irate gaze crashing back into mine. Nostrils flaring from the force of his ragged breaths, he looked close to coming unglued.
But did I give a shit? No.
In the words of my boy—behold, this is the field where my fucks are planted, but alas it is barren.
All jokes aside, the moment I’d seen Carmen’s scarred belly and the reality of the pain she’d been through hit me straight in the chest, I’d concocted a vindictive plan that could end only one way.
With Dominic West taking his last breath.
Ex district-attorney Ellington, too.
Maybe it makes me sick and twisted, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t something I’d always wanted. Because I had. Ever since learning just a handful of the things both scumbags had done to my Ashley Jo, I’d thirsted for their blood.
But now that Carmen and Jade were involved, adding to the victim count, I was done sitting by, letting them live out their pathetic lives behind bars.
Prison was too easy of a punishment for both men. Just like it had been for my father. No, for each of their sins, ones neither man had shown any remorse for, they deserved to die.
Soon, and with any luck, painfully.
The only thing was, I needed someone who could reach them both, in addition to finding Alejandro if Anthony wouldn’t or couldn’t.
As for that someone—it was Arianna Ivanova, head of the Fallen Kings, a Russian crime syndicate that ran both South and North Charleston, the very city Carmen and Jade had lived in for the past seven years.
Ruthless and cunning, she would take care of both men for the right price. Just like she’d taken care of Petrov, the man who’d threatened my son and Maddie both when I owed him a gambling debt I couldn’t pay.
This time, though, I didn’t have valuable information to give her. No, this time, it would cost me cold hard cash to get what I wanted. Not that I cared. A lifelong firefighter, I wasn’t rich, but thanks to overcoming my gambling addiction, my house was almost paid off.
I could get a second mortgage if needed.
“Ari is the Kings,” Anthony said after what felt like minutes. “James, if you go down this road, you won’t—”
“Are you going to help me or not?” I interrupted a second time, my vengeance-hungry mind already made up. “Or do I need to get in the truck and drive into Charleston earlier than I planned?”
“Earlier than you planned?” He tossed the crumpled paper to his desk before stomping toward me, stopping less than a foot from where I stood with my fisted hands now shoved in my pockets. “What does that mean?”
I leaned forward, fed up with the conversation at hand. “It means,” I ground out, face inches from his, “that I’m going to handle what the law couldn’t. Now, for the last damn time, are you going to help me find my Pixie’s brother? Or do I need to find a different solution?”
I expected him to hit me with a barrage of questions, all of them centered on Ari and what my plans were, but to my surprise, he didn’t. Instead, he turned and returned to his desk before sitting down and picking up a copper-colored fountain pen.
“What’s his name?”
I took a breath. “Alejandro Santiago.”
His hand stopped moving, the letters he’d started scrawling across a yellow legal pad coming to an abrupt halt mid-word. He looked up, piercing me with a death glare. “Alejandro Santiago?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “That’s her hermanito.”
He chuckled again. “Jesus Christ.”
I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant by that but was stopped short of doing so when Tuck’s pissed-off voice echoed down the hall, bouncing off the painted cinder block walls.
“What the fuck, Cap?”
I turned, gaze finding him as he came to a stop just outside the still-open office door. “It’s about time you showed up.”
He shook his head. “This better be good because I’d just dropped Lily Ann off at your house with Carmen for supper and the sleepover y’all planned when you called, messing up my plans to go home to my wife and—”
“Stop right there,” I said, holding a hand up, gesturing for him to knock it off before he scarred me with whatever filth was about to leave his mouth. “I don’t want to hear what you and Carissa were planning on doing in a kid-free house.”
I shuddered.
“But when you get home, do me a favor, shut your blinds. The last thing I want is to see your naked ass as y’all go at it like rabbits. You know, again.”
Anthony burst in
to laughter. “Just wait until I tell my wife this one.”
An irritated Tuck leaned to the left, looking past me and over to my smartass son-in-law. “You and Shelby ain’t got a damn bit of room to talk, Moretti. So how about you quit worrying about my open blinds and start worrying about your open fence gate? ’Cause trust me, ain’t nobody wanting to see you having Shelby for dessert on the picnic table again—even if it was getting dark outside.”
I didn’t know whether to punch Tuck, one of my best men, and who I loved as if he were my son, or vomit on the spot.
Feeling sick to my stomach, I shoved a pointed finger into his solid chest as he righted himself, and I tried to figure out a way to bleach my brain. “Watch your mouth before I knock your teeth down your throat, especially since that’s my little girl you’re talking about.”
Ever the smartass, just like Anthony—my son too—Tuck shrugged and stepped back, a wry smile curving his lips. “Don’t blame me, old man. Blame Moretti. He’s the one that violated your daughter, not—”
“Bullshit,” Anthony barked. “She violated me first.”
I was going to kill them both.
“You”—I pointed back at Anthony before swinging my finger in Tuck’s direction—“and you.” My cheek twitched. “Knock it off before I murder each of you, then bury your asses under Grandmama’s rosebushes.”
Where she always threatens to bury me.
“Fuck that,” Anthony mumbled. “I’ve had enough of the Crazy Old Biddy’s roses since I’ll be picking thorns out of my ass for the next six months.”
Tuck’s face turned red from laughter.
Same as mine.
“Yeah,” he said, not even close to being done giving Anthony shit. “Heard you had to get Blondie to pick a few prickles out with tweezers last night.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Must’ve been a real sexy time.”
“Listen, shithead—”
“Alright,” I said around the amusement clogging my throat. “You two knock it off before I put you both in a headlock.”
Knowing damn well I wouldn’t harm a hair on his head no matter what moot threats I hurled his way thanks to me fearing his mama’s wrath, Tuck smirked. “What did you need, Cap? You called for a reason, so get to it.”
Headache closing to morphing into a full-blown migraine despite the laughter I’d gained at Anthony’s expense, I scrubbed my hand down the side of my face. “I need you to take a trip to Virginia.”
His brows knitted. “For what?”
“For Faye and Amelia.”
Understanding dawned, and he rocked back on his heels. Pulling his cell out of his pocket, he started tapping on the screen. “I’ll leave now then. Won’t be back until tomorrow, though, since it’s a seven-hour drive each way.”
Though he wasn’t looking at me, I nodded. “Thanks, kid. I hate asking you, but I can’t leave—”
“Don’t even worry about it,” he cut in. “You need to spend time with your woman and family. Besides, since Lily Ann’s staying with y’all tonight, I’ll just take Carissa with me.”
Shaking his head, he huffed out a breath. “I’m sure as shit not leaving her home alone while Mama and the Crazy Old Biddy go out later and paint the town by hitting up the bingo parlors, maybe even a strip club or two. You never know with Grandmama’s nutty ass.”
His fingers stilled, and he looked up. “Just keep my little girl safe. You know I don’t trust many people with her, but you’re one of the few that I do. If something happens...”
Needing to reassure him before he worked himself up, and for good reason given his past, I clasped his shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. “Kyle, listen to me. Carmen and I will keep her safe. I’ll give my life to protect Tinkerbell, along with every other child in our family, you know that. But Carmen?”
I blew out a breath and readjusted my ball cap. “My Pixie will make an entire army of heads roll before she lets a single thing happen to any of those kids.”
If people think Grandmama is protective...
“No shit,” Anthony mumbled, jumping in. “Just ask my balls. They’ll tell you how vicious that woman can be. And people say my Sunshine is the Queen of Crazy.” He paused. “Well, not anymore. She’s lost that title to her new mother.”
Tuck burst into laughter as I dropped my hand and turned, peering at my son-in-law over my shoulder. “Yeah, I heard all about you getting dropped in the middle of the swamp from Jade. Still can’t believe you let my Pixie steal your gun. I mean, come on, son.”
“Shit,” Tuck said, clutching his chest. “Does Hendrix know about this yet?” Chuckling, I shook my head as he stumbled back, face red with amusement. “Hell, let me be the one to tell him.” He pointed Anthony’s way. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it, Moretti?”
Before Anthony could reply or I had the chance to ask him what he was talking about, Tuck turned and walked in the opposite direction, the words he spoke into the phone he’d just pressed to his ear fading the further he moved away.
“Princess, it’s me. Put on some comfortable clothes and pack us some food. I’ve got some stuff to handle for Cap near Alexandria, so we’re hitting the road...”
“James.”
Pulling my focus from Tuck’s retreating—and still laughing, I might add—form, I faced Anthony. “Yeah?”
Pissed at whatever trouble Tuck had started, he scowled. “Why are you doing this?” He stood, letting the pen he’d been clutching roll from his fingers. “You talk a good game, but you know that connecting with Alejandro will open a can of—”
Understanding his trepidation, along with the dark place his mind was likely going, I interjected. “I’m not asking you to put him on a plane and fly him to Georgia,” I tried to explain, hoping he’d see I wasn’t planning a family reunion yet. “All I’m asking is for you to find out if he’s still alive or not, then we’ll go from there.”
A look I couldn’t decipher crossed his face.
Feeling uneasy for a reason I couldn’t quite put my finger on, I grasped the leather bracelet I wore around my wrist and squeezed the thin material, letting it bring me comfort. “I won’t do anything to put Carmen or my girls in danger, but I promised her I’d help find him.”
I backed up to the doorway and glanced down the empty hall, eager to get moving. “And that’s a vow I intend to keep.” I lifted my chin, knowing he’d understand my need to keep my word. “Find him for me. Got it?”
If he’s still alive.
“Consider it done.”
I nodded, my sky-high respect for him increasing tenfold. And without saying another word, I headed out, hell-bent on reaching the one place I wanted to be and where my heart resided, in record time.
Home.
19
Carmen
In my life, I’ve lived many happy moments.
As a little girl, then as a teen, I’d found joy in many things. Breakfast with my familia, stargazing with Alejandro atop the apartment where we’d lived our entire lives, being crowned Miss Colombia.
But then, at eighteen, I was thrust into Hell, where I had remained for sixteen years. And though seven years had passed since I’d escaped the flames, soul-searing agony still reigned, holding me prisoner.
Yet, that was changing.
That was clear to me as I sat on a plush, beige-colored rug amid James’ family room floor, surrounded by a crew of the most beautiful bebés I’d ever seen, and the heaviness that typically swirled in my chest, never allowing me to move on from the things that had caused me such pain, was absent.
And it was all because of Guapo.
Along with them—my new familia.
“CeCe,” sweet little Maci, who sat next to me, running a glittery pink brush through Lily Ann’s waist-length, honey blonde hair, said, tearing my attention from the thoughts possessing me. “Want to play dress-up while we wait for Pop-Pop to come home?”
Her pleading eyes twinkled with hope.
“We’ve got a lot of clothes and shoes upstairs, e
ven big girl ones, that Mama and Clara gave us to play in, so we’ve got stuff you can wear.” She batted her thick eyelashes at me. “Pleaseee...”
How could I say no?
“Si,” I replied, smiling. “I’ll play dress-up with you. But only if you chicas”—I looked from Maci to Addie, then to Lily Ann—“fix my hair.”
Lily Ann’s blue eyes light up. “I’ll do it!”
Not giving me a chance to reply, Addie crawled onto her sleeping Mama, who was resting on her belly next to me, her head on my lap, squishing poor Chiquita’s face further into my bare thigh.
“Mama!” she hollered, loud enough to rouse the dead. I have no clue how Ashley continued to sleep through such noise without so much as flinching. “Wake up! We’re gonna play dress up!”
When Chiquita didn’t respond, Addie rolled to the carpet with a huff, her side pressed to Ashley Jo’s, and looked up at me, giggling. “Mama’s always tired lately. She’s even started taking more cat naps than Grandmama!”
Lungs stalling, my chest froze, her words ping-ponging around in my head. There had been another time, eight years before, when she’d been tired all the time as well.
I wonder...
My curious eyes met Jade’s wide ones across the room. Her thoughts were echoing my own, at least if her pinched lips and knowing expression were anything to go by.
“What?” Shelby asked, forehead crinkled, clearly confused, which was surprising. From what I’d seen, she was usually the first to catch on to such things. Not this time, though. “What is it?”
Little One shook her head. “Nothing.” A suspicious Shelby narrowed her gaze, yet Jade didn’t back down. “I was just thinking about Grandmama taking naps.” She chuckled. “Wonder if she tucks her flyswatter under her pillow when she sleeps.”
Thrown off the trail she’d been embarking down, Shelby snorted. “Nah, sugar, the space under the pillow is reserved for her pistol. Her swatter stays—”
The front door banged open, halting Shelby’s words before she could speak them, and making me jump in place.
Mierda, I think my heart just almost burst!
