Saving Bonnie: A Dark Mafia Romance (Blood Ties Book 2)

by Sahara Roberts

  “I saw regular payments to the same credit card company, so I didn’t think much of the bigger payment. I didn’t realize the money wasn’t going to pay her personal card.” She frowns. “I should have gone through everything more carefully.”

  “We couldn’t have known.” While it hasn’t been her finest hour, it could be easy to miss a detail like that. “Hell, even Bunny didn’t realize it happened.”

  She studies me thoughtfully. “I’ll get working on a more thorough search through her life and reach out once you’re back to work.”

  “I’m going to head over there in case Olga shows up.”

  Kassy cocks her head again, but I end the call before she can say anything.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bunny

  The bell over the door rings—again. I exhale in a rush, closing my eyes to pray for a few extra minutes in the day. I’m in the middle of plating, so I can’t drop what I’m doing and walk away. If I take too long, the food will get cold, and we’ll have upset customers.

  “Let me finish that for you.” Manny takes the plate and adds a helping of rice.

  “Thanks, Manny.” Relieved, I grab a towel to wipe off my hands. This is getting to be a bit much.

  “Bonnie, if you want, I can bring my kid in to help,” he offers without looking over. “He knows his way around the kitchen.”

  “Don’t you come here to get away from your kids?” I shoot back with a quick smile. Truthfully, I’m not sure I’m ready to have someone else come in. Especially someone’s family member.

  “Thought I’d offer…” His mumbled reply drifts off.

  I don’t blame Manny for offering. As the only full-time cook, he’s the one taking the brunt of the kitchen work. I pop in and out, and little Noah delivers food and buses tables. For a place running seven days a week for breakfast, lunch, and sometimes dinner, we don’t have enough staff. Yet the reality is, in a couple of weeks I may have to decide whether I need to shut down. How will this affect him and Noah, never mind bringing his kid in?

  Sending a prayer to the heavens, I give in. “Why don’t you have him come by tomorrow morning, and we’ll talk. Maybe we can bring him in…for a week or two.”

  Manny glances over his shoulder, losing the stiffness in his posture. “You’ll like my kid, Bonnie.” I guess I hadn’t paid attention. Likely he can use the extra help at work and a few bucks into the household.

  Pushing open the door, I head into the dining area. “I’m sure I will.” My tummy tightens up just the same. Goodness, how am I going to tell him if we have to close?

  When I head behind the counter, I nearly miss a step. “Hello, Olga.”

  “Bonnie.” Olga’s tone is dismissive. “I have an order with Erica.” She tosses her bleached hair as she glances toward the kitchen.

  Now I really miss my cousin. She was always the buffer, attending to Olga herself so nobody else had to deal with her nasty personality.

  “I don’t remember seeing anything for you.” Or I’d likely be dreading your arrival.

  “I’ll wait on Erica,” Olga insists, dismissing me.

  “She’s not working here anymore,” I announce, cutting the conversation short to avoid questions. “Whose name is on the order?”

  “What?” Olga stiffens. “Since when?” She goes pale under the layers of makeup.

  “A few days ago.”

  “And Sergio?” she continues, ignoring my question.

  “He’s gone also.” We’re getting curious glances from several customers. Not just because she’s wearing gaudy clothes a size too small. Noah comes through to serve the plates I left Manny, breaking the tension.

  “What did you order, Olga? I don’t have your name on the to-go tickets,” I ask again.

  “No.” She shakes her head, eyes going unfocused. “I-I don’t have one.”

  “I’m sorry?” I frown, confused at what she wants. “Didn’t you say you ordered with Erica?”

  “I…um…I’d texted her,” she explains, gathering her wits. “But if she’s not here, then she couldn’t have placed the order.”

  “Ah.” I reach for a pad and pen. “I can fix some plates for you.”

  “No need.” She raises her chin. “I’m in a hurry.”

  I’m half relieved she’s leaving. Olga isn’t exactly welcome, but I’m in no position to turn away a paying customer. Though now that I learned Erica was taking orders on her personal cell, I’m concerned. How many angry customers will we have in the next few days?

  “Do you know where I can find her?” She tacks on a smile.

  “Why?” What could she possibly need?

  “She-she owes me money,” Olga confesses. “She and Sergio do.”

  I paste on a sympathetic smile. “Oh. Well, I’m afraid we haven’t spoken.” Meanwhile, I’m trying to hold back the bile crawling up my throat. How could Erica borrow money from this woman? Part of me is afraid to look around and find someone else has gone pale, knowing she’s gone. How could she go to a customer? Granted, Olga stayed at Iris’s house, across the street from both my aunt and mom. Still…

  “Well…” Olga’s smile is brittle now. “I’ll try to find her at her mother’s house.” She gives a half turn and walks away, the heels on her ankle boots echoing.

  I head to the kitchen, looking at the tables to see if anyone needs a refill. Customers at two tables are whispering as Olga passes the window. Okay, so I’m not the only one to find that weird.

  Hours later, after Manny’s left the parking lot, the door opens. Tino’s back, his gaze covering the room with his usual intensity. While I knew he’d be coming at some point, I didn’t expect this urge to make sure my hair’s not all over the place.

  “Careful,” I warn, bringing him to a stop as he focuses on the entrance. “The floor’s still wet from the mop.”

  He continues into the kitchen, pulling a backpack off his shoulder. I can’t help but admire his muscles rippling as he moves. The guy’s solid, though I haven’t had the chance to explore under his shirt. Not that he’s to blame. He’s been decent, where he could have been demanding, considering everything he’s dished out for me.

  “The security system only works if you activate it.” His stern voice interrupts my thoughts.

  “I’m not done yet.”

  He glares, those dark eyes hooking into me. “You want to try that again, before I put you over the table and make you pay for lying to me.”

  My body responds to the heavy handedness with a trickle of moisture. “I’m not used to the new routine yet.”

  “Better.” His tone returns to normal, and I can’t help but be disappointed. “This setup is meant to keep you safe, not just the building.”

  “I know.” Now I feel like a jerk. Turning, I step away, my face burning.

  “You close early,” he says, changing the subject.

  “The area slows down after four o’clock.” Untying the apron, I toss it in the laundry bag I set by the broom closet. “There’s no need to stay open unless the bridge calls in a big order.” Unfortunately, that didn’t happen today.

  “And you do the cleaning on your own.” He goes past, checking each corner of the dining room. Grabbing a stool, he returns to the kitchen. Like this morning, he sets up at the end of my table, his broad back to the storage room.

  “Sure.” I shrug, frowning at the kink between my shoulder blades. “Why not.” It’s not like I have a life outside of this place.

  He stops, the laptop still halfway in the backpack. “You’ve been going since five o’clock in the morning.”

  “Manny and Noah have put in a full day also,” I point out. “I’m not going to keep them longer than I have to. Manny has a wife and kids at home. Noah has a girlfriend.” I purposely stop there because I don’t need to go into the lack of people in my life. I deal with enough of that crap from Mom every time I talk to her.

  “Are you looking at hiring people?” he asks, logging on to a new, larger laptop than the one he used this m
orning.

  My shoulder muscles tighten. I pick up the clipboard, checking totals so I can place tomorrow’s order. “Yes.” I shouldn’t feel like I need to explain myself, yet I do. “In fact, I should have someone coming in tomorrow for an interview.”

  “Great. That’s a start.”

  Sure. He’d think it’s great since he doesn’t deal with the money aspect. We’ll make enough to pay him, but what happens overall? If Manny’s son has a job somewhere else, I won’t bring him in. I can’t have him lose a long-term job for something he may lose before too long.

  “You have anything planned for tonight?”

  “Um, no. Not really.” I tighten my hold on the clipboard. With my heartbeat racing, I completely lose track of what I was going to check on. All I can think of at the moment is pickled carrots. Boxes and boxes of them.

  “Okay. I may have some security guys coming in tonight to install the cameras in front of the building. I don’t want them getting in the way if you have something going on.”

  “Oh. Okay,” I add, deflated. I’m not sure what I expected, but suddenly I feel so disappointed.

  *****

  Conrado

  We pull up to the burger place on San Bernardo, me sitting in the back of the car, like a boss. I learned that from meeting with Dante. Only instead of having a scary ass motherfucker as a driver, I got Iz. He may not be a bodyguard, but he can do this, no problem. And I’m feelin’ like some kind of badass with a guy to fuckin’ drive me around. At least I got one point from the failed deal. I might be in a shitty Camry right now, but that’s gonna change—real soon.

  Erica and her boyfriend are sitting on the hood of their car, squinting against our headlights. Checking her face, I can tell she’s been shittin’ bricks. Sergio, her vato, has his hair all messed up, like he’s been putting his hands through it. Yeah, I did good. Letting them wait an extra ten minutes was a bangin’ idea. They couldn’t leave, not after I sent someone to her mom’s house. Bitch knows I can track her ass down anywhere if I got her mama.

  I bump the driver’s seat, still grinning. “Remember what you gotta do, man,” I remind Iz.

  “Yeah, dude, I ’member.” His fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

  “You ain’t gonna wuss out now, are you?” That’s all I’d need after making everything look all professional and shit.

  “No, man,” he says. He’s all quiet, maybe trying to find his balls. “I know what you’re doing.”

  He puts the car in park, turns off the headlights then takes off the seat belt. Taking a deep breath, he opens the door to go talk to them. Erica stretches her neck to see around him. Her face is white. I can’t help but grin. She keeps trying to check the car. Iz opens the door, and Sergio checks the car, same way I did with Dante.

  “Sit down, man.” I’m all in on feeling the power I got over these assholes.

  Dude comes in, slumping against the seat as the door closes and Iz goes to keep Erica busy.

  “What the fuck, man?” I give him one of those angry looks Dante uses. The one where his eyebrows are all straight. “Where’s the delivery?”

  Sergio puts a hand through his hair. “I was stashing some stuff in my bag when I got busted. Bonnie canned me on the spot.”

  “Dude, you need to get my shit back.”

  “Yeah, man. Of all the freakin’ luck.” He stares through the window, moving around like he can’t sit still. “My chick was gonna bring it the next day, but Bonnie realized she didn’t make the deposits and canned her, too.”

  “I already told you, it’s on you to get my shit back.”

  “Hey, vato,” the dude barks, his face contorting as he turns on me. “First of all, this ain’t just your shit.” He jabs a finger toward Erica. “We put in money for the shipment.”

  “The money wasn’t yours to begin with, man.” Can’t believe he’s trying to play that card. “Now y’all running around with your tail between your legs.”

  “I got half riding on this, man,” Sergio says, taking a stand.

  Ain’t touching that. Dude doesn’t have to know I didn’t add in any green. He agreed to hook up, and my part is getting the supplier. Thing is, I took credit for the deal. Would have been perfect if this shithead hadn’t fucked us.

  “When the owner comes looking for his shipment, he’s gonna come after me.” I point at my chest. “Unless you want me to shoot him straight to you, I’d be trying to see how to make this right. You get me, bro?”

  Sergio sits back, digging his ass deeper into the seat. “I already lined up a guy to go in for the last delivery.”

  Relief slams through me. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.”

  “Yeah, well…” Sergio runs his hand along the side of his neck. “The run went south.”

  “What the hell do you mean?”

  “My guy was supposed to go in a couple nights ago while Bonnie was over with her mom.” His breath shoots out, and he folds in, like an old balloon. “But he was in an accident.”

  “Seriously, dude.” I can’t believe I have another asshole I have to hold by the hand. “Can’t you just go ask him to—”

  “He’s dead, man.”

  “Dead?” This is beginning to sound more and more like we’re fucked.

  “I don’t know what he was doing in Nuevo Laredo, but the SUV he was in skidded. He went through a window or something and landed on some rebar. Punched right through his heart. So he can’t answer no questions.”

  I cringe. “What a way to go.”

  “Didn’t even make it to the hospital.”

  My mind’s already running ahead. “Well, find someone else.”

  “Problem is”— Sergio swallows hard before continuing—“I don’t know if he made it into the storeroom or not.”

  “Fuuuuck.” I’m no pussy, but fear, or something, came to tighten around my neck. If I thought the owner was going to be pissed before, it’s nothing like what’s gonna happen if he finds out we lost the heroin. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Screaming and stomping the floorboard isn’t helping. Now Erica is looking over again. That fat bitch can probably bulldoze over Iz, so I take a deep breath and try to concentrate.

  “So whatcha gonna do now?”

  “Me?” He’s glaring, all bug-eyed.

  “Yes, you,” I throw back. “Your job was to receive the stuff and move it.”

  He slumps against the seat, his head bouncing on the headrest. “There’s nothing to do.”

  “You’re not gettin’ off that easy, Sergio.” He’s stupid if he thinks he can walk away from this. “You better figure something the hell out.”

  “Look, Rad, his SUV is across the border.” He pauses, letting the news sink in. “If he had the shit there, it’s gone.”

  Desperation is clogging my throat. Why can’t these fuckers just do their job? Every time I’m close to making it to the big time, shit happens.

  “How can you not know where he went? He has to have told someone.”

  “He was gonna call me when he was done.” Sergio spaces out for a few seconds. “His girlfriend was with him. And he ain’t the type to call his mom.”

  “Fuck.”

  “If there was a way to know for sure, I’d straight up tell you.” He looks away and snorts. “My chick’s mom is bitching at her about taking money from Bonnie. They’re cousins, so she’s gonna make us pay her back.” He slams his hand on the seat. “Where the fuck am I supposed to get that kinda money? Even if I was working, I couldn’t get that much cash.”

  According to my mom, Bonnie made a lot of changes. “Were you there when they put in the cameras?”

  “At the café?” He shakes his head. “No. She musta got ’em a few days ago.”

  “Okay, so maybe your guy saw them and didn’t go in.”

  “I guess.” He shrugs. “If she’s got eyes on the place, how are we going to get the last drop-off?”

  I stare out the side window. Mom’s got a lot of contacts. She owes me big-time. And losing this shipmen
t could get me killed. I’ve already got people trying to find me. I don’t need this kind of heat. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Okay, dude, give me the layout of the place.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bunny

  “Do you get up at five every morning to make tortillas?” Tino asks, breaking the bubble of silence as I set my haul on the far end of the table. The large kitchen seems a lot smaller when he’s a few feet away. Maybe it’s having him so close or the way his eyes make me remember how he put me on the bed yesterday…

  “Yes, every morning.” I tear into the sack of flour. It’s so damn hard not to peek when he’s sitting at the other end of the table. “Sometimes more than once a day.”

  “Busy,” he says, leaving the word hanging there, like there’s more he wants to add.

  “Yeah,” I confirm, needing to fill the silence. I start forming a well in the middle of the flour, keeping to the task at hand. “Some days people just flock in when you least expect it.”

  After tossing and turning, I’m too tired to deal with small talk. He’d mentioned he was going to be busy with the alarm guys, but a part of me still expected him to come by. Every little noise woke me up, thinking he was at the front door. Now, I’m on autopilot. I check the base of the well. Yes, that’s baking powder…right? I’m so used to being on my own at this point in the morning.

  “Why don’t you buy some ready-made,” he suggests in his off-the-cuff manner. “So you can save some time.”

  Normally I’d send him a disparaging look, but, under the circumstances, I’ll let it pass. “We’re known for our monster tacos. They’re larger than a regular tortilla, so they aren’t available ready to cook.” I stretch my index finger and thumb to brackets so he can get an idea of the size.

  His attention goes from my hands to my face. “You use them for the plates also?”

  “Yes.” I grab the salt, hoping we’re done with the conversation.

  “If you offer both regular-sized and monster tacos,” he continues, ignoring my curt answer, “you can adjust the price to increase your profit and give yourself a break.”