by Shady Grace
“I deserve it. And now that she got away with the money, I accept whatever death you and Terry might have planned for me.”
Luis stood to the side looking bored. Sam figured he was probably thirsty, then suddenly wondered how much he knew about Zamira’s connection to them.
Gabe yanked the briefcase out of Sam’s hand, jolting him back to the scene. “You’d think with all the years you’ve been in this business, you’d be smart enough to put a tracking device on that woman.” Gabe started walking back in the direction from where they came. “Good thing one of us is smart.” Sam glared at Gabe’s back, suddenly wishing he’d let him fall and smack his face against the curb when he gun-butted him. He knew his brother was only kidding and being an ass, but it still pissed him off.
“What do you mean?” Sam ran to catch up to him with Luis on his tail. “When did you put a tracking device on her?” He touched her? Maybe he should break a few fingers, too. As far as he was concerned, Jamie Fields was off-limits to any other man. When he looked back at Luis, the old drunk only shrugged.
Gabe released a throaty laugh and shook his head. “Not on her, you idiot. On the briefcase. Whether she runs off with it or hands it to somebody else, we’ll know where it goes, and it’s rigged with a little surprise, too.” He paused and smirked at Sam. “That’s how it’s done, brother.”
Sam released a deep, pent-up breath. “I’m sorry I hit you with my gun.” He felt like an asshole, but not really. Gabe would’ve done the same to him if Sam was about to pop Mima in the back of the head. “I just couldn’t let you shoot her.”
Gabe stared at him for a long moment, his brows furrowed and forehead crinkled in frustration, before his eyes widened with awareness. “You fell in love with her, didn’t you?”
Luis let out a long whistle. “Oh, boy.”
Sam cleared his throat and shifted on his feet. He shrugged, not wanting to admit the truth to these hardened men. One tougher than granite, the other usually drunk. “She’s…fun.”
“And could get you killed.”
“Maybe that’s what I deserve.”
“Maybe it is.”
Silence dragged on as they eyeballed each other. Finally, Gabe checked his watch. “I need a fuckin’ drink. How about you?”
“Yes!” Luis answered from the back.
“We should be going after her, not drinking! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I’m going for a drink, with or without you. I’m tired of being told I can’t have a shot of whiskey until after 5 p.m.,” Gabe belted. Sam raised an amused brow, surprised Mima managed to control this brutish bastard. It was actually a funny bit of knowledge he’d have to remember. “And after I finish a good sip and see what’s inside this briefcase, I’ll check the tracker. Is that quick enough for your lonely pecker?”
No, it isn’t. Sam fell in step with Gabe, feeling really low and pissed-off at the same time. He had a nagging feeling that Jamie could be in serious trouble. The boys could think all they want about him living by the eye of his pecker, but that wasn’t true. Sure, he’d had his fun, but he wasn’t a man-whore. He had a heart and feelings and needs like anybody else in this world. He just didn’t show his as much as others, didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. For that, he felt alone. Maybe if he opened up a little more, he’d have something good in his life.
He didn’t care about the fucking briefcase. Jamie worried him most. What if the person she was working for decided to beat her up, or even kill her? If they suspected that she knew something, well then there was one sure way of shutting her up.
They made their way to Zamira’s. She closed and locked the door behind them for privacy as they opened the briefcase.
As promised, yet to everyone’s surprise, everything was there. Video surveillance, photos, voice recordings, even a record book with cash transactions of drug lords from Spain to Canada, and everywhere in between.
“How is this even possible?” Gabe said, his expression wrought with barely suppressed rage and utter shock. “Even I didn’t know all of this.”
“Got to be somebody who worked with Colton since the beginning,” Sam added. “There are men in these photos who are long dead.”
Zamira clucked her tongue. “Only Ben was with him from the start, and he’s dead, too.” She eyeballed Sam and gave a brief nod before she headed toward the back room.
Sam glanced at Gabe who was engrossed in the contents of the briefcase. He slid out of his chair and followed Zamira. He didn’t know what she wanted, but Sam was glad to get away from Gabe for a moment or two.
He entered the room as Zamira switched on the overhead lights. “Close the door,” she said, and wandered to a shelf along the back wall. As Sam closed the door behind him, Zamira hit a switch and to Sam’s amazement, the panel slid to the side, revealing a weapons’ stash that could rival that of the deadliest of warlords. He couldn’t hide his shock. Some of those guns were worth more than a new vehicle.
Zamira stood there, hands on generous hips, looking up at her collection as a mother might gaze upon her newborn child. “I’ve been collecting some of these for over thirty years now. Some were given to me, some I took,” she giggled, “and some of them are yours.”
Sam walked up and admired the collection of pistols, rifles, machine guns, and various knives. He shook his head in bewilderment. He knew Zamira was the right hand to a Cuban kingpin in her younger days, but he had no idea—
“What do you mean some of these are mine?” He stared at her in confusion. They may be friends, but he was pretty certain he played no part in this collection.
Zamira turned around and Sam’s eyes bulged at the rare and pristine Persian contract Luger with its long barrel resting in her hands. It was one of only a thousand ever made.
“Do you know where this came from, mijo?”
He frowned, staring at the gun as if it was made of pure gold. “No. Should I?”
Her sad smile sunk right into his heart. “This is a gift to you from your mother.”
He blinked. “My mother?”
Zamira nodded and lifted her hands, gesturing for Sam to take it. As he held the weight of the rare piece in his hands, he was beyond confused by this odd conversation. A strange conversation that was making his heart pound.
“Rose was instructed not to tell you the truth about your parents. There is a reason why they didn’t visit you as much as they should have, my boy. Because it was too dangerous.”
He frowned. This wasn’t making any sense. His parents were irresponsible party animals that didn’t give a shit about him and their responsibilities. Maybe they loved him, in some small way, but they certainly didn’t show it.
“Your parents were spies, Samuel. They met on a job and fell in love.” The love and pride he saw in her big brown eyes made his breath hitch. “When you came along, they had to make a decision. It was either me or Rose who would take you in, but I wasn’t in a position to raise a child.”
Sam shook his head. “You or Auntie Rose? I don’t understand…”
Zamira smiled and reached her weathered hand up to touch his hair. “Your mother and Rose are my sisters.”
“You’re my aunt?” Sam couldn’t believe it. All along he thought they were just friends, connected to the business. He couldn’t hide his shock. “I thought you were Cuban.”
She clucked her tongue. “I am. You are, too. Our family is Afro-Cuban, Samuel, and your father’s side is Irish, which I’m sure you already knew.”
Sam blew out a long, exasperated breath. “This is a lot to take in.”
“It’s a small world, is it not? I had been doing business with Colton for many years before he took you in. The first time you walked into this place, it took everything in me not to tell you the truth. I stayed because of you, to watch over you. I promised your mother I would.”
“Wait a minute. You said my parents were spies? What are they doing now? I haven’t seen them in”—he ha
d to think hard to the last special occasion when Auntie Rose burned the turkey—“since last Thanksgiving, I think.”
Tears filled Zamira’s eyes, and after a long silence…he knew. His throat clinched tight. He struggled to breathe. “How? When?” It felt as if the last breath of air parted his lungs, never to be taken again.
She wiped her tears and squared her shoulders. “It was a car accident a week ago. They were together, that’s all the detail I know.” She cleared her throat and smiled up at him, big brown eyes glistening. “They left everything to you. A villa in Spain. A chalet in Alaska. Even a yacht here on the island, although I must tell you that your Uncle Luis doesn’t want to part with it.”
He wanted to smash his fist through a window. A week ago his life had begun to change at the same time as his estranged parents took their last breath. Did they think of him as they died together?
“That drunk husband of yours is my uncle, eh?” Sam chuckled and shook his head, trying to make light of the news but numb at the same time. “How did I get so lucky?” He didn’t want her to see the depth of his pain.
“You are very lucky to have Luis as your uncle, you silly boy. He’d kill for you.”
Overloaded with this information, he turned toward the rack of weapons, his mind filled with the rare moments he saw his parents. Now that he was older and wiser in life, it suddenly dawned on him all those moments when his mother hugged him hard before having to leave again. He hated her then. He regretted not knowing her now. Suddenly, he missed her beautiful face. Her sweet smile. Those dark eyes, almost black, staring at him with what must’ve been love. He just didn’t know it then.
A week ago, as his parents drove to their demise, Sam was heading out to kill a woman that he apparently fell in love with. A woman who might very well be a spy, or at least, the pawn of a blackmailer. He shook his head as his heart ached.
He jerked when Zamira touched his shoulder. Tears had filled his eyes. Why now? Why did they have to die before he could know the truth about them?
“Don’t be like them, mijo,” she whispered. “That’s no way to live. You still have years of life and love, and maybe children, ahead of you. If this woman I saw you with is the one you want, then you go after her. Don’t let life slip through your fingers as your parents did.”
He shook his head, at war with what he should do. “That woman might be the death of me.”
Zamira clucked her tongue and released a throaty laugh. “As all women should be, my boy. Otherwise, what fun would life and love be?”
With a groan of anguish, he turned around and gathered Zamira in his arms and hugged her hard. He had no words. Nothing he could ever say would adequately describe the pain in his heart over his parents, the happiness to know that Zamira and Luis were family, or the insecurity of his love for Jamie. What would come of it all?
“I know it’s hard, sweetheart.” She rubbed his back as Sam let his tears fall unheeded. “You can’t be tough forever.”
When she stepped back and gazed up at him, Sam knew that this woman he’d cared for, for many years as a dear friend, was tough as nails and smart as a whip. He couldn’t be more elated to learn that they shared the same blood.
“Come now,” she said, pressing the button to close the paneled wall. They walked arm in arm from the back room. He quickly wiped his tears before the others noticed. Gabe would never let it go if he saw Sam crying. They were men after all. Only women cried.
Gabe looked up from a handful of photos, a quizzical look on his face. Luis sat beside him, and when the old man glanced up and smiled, Sam couldn’t help his own. They nodded in silent awareness. One day they would have a good talk, and he would tell Luis that the yacht he suddenly inherited could stay right here. Sam had no use for it anyway.
Gabe looked from Luis to Zamira, to Sam again, and shook his head. “What’s with you guys today?”
“I’ll tell you later, shitstick,” Sam said, his voice thick with emotion. He was anxious to find Jamie. “Check your tracker before I lose my patience. I’m done waiting around for you.”
“Still haven’t learned anything, have you? Well, you’re on your own with that one.” Gabe shook his head, pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and checked the location of the briefcase. “It’s heading west out of the city. Route 1.”
“Lleva el coche,” Zamira said to Luis. He raised his brow and chuckled as he slipped out of his chair and disappeared through the door leading into the alley out back.
A few minutes later, Sam heard a rumble out front. He walked up to the windows looking onto the street and laughed out loud as Luis got out of a beat-up Plymouth Belvedere straight out of the fifties.
“Don’t let the looks fool you,” Zamira commented. “That baby will get you anywhere, and quick.”
Sam looked over his shoulder. Gabe sat there shaking his head at him. It was time his brother was put into his place.
“You and Terry got what you wanted. At least give me the chance to find out if I can have mine.”
Gabe’s top lip twitched as he nodded. The humor in his eyes changed into something more like understanding, and concern. “Want me to come with you for backup?”
Sam shook his head. “Nah. You burn the contents of that briefcase then go home to Mima. Tell Terry I have everything under control. I need to do this alone.”
“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay. Argue with me all you want, I’m still four months older than you.”
“And not blood related.”
“Does that really matter?” Gabe raised his brows high, waiting for the right answer.
A slow smile crossed Sam’s face as they eyeballed each other. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Good. Now fuck off and go after that girl. I’ll keep you updated on the location, bud. Be careful.”
Sam took one last look at Gabe and Zamira, hoping it wouldn’t be his last. He walked through the door and approached Luis who was leaning against the passenger door, a fat cigar hanging from his mouth. A swirl of pungent smoke wafted up in the air above his five-foot frame.
“Are you sure you can handle this beast?”
Sam chuckled, reached out, and shook his hand. “You know it.”
“You bring this back in one piece or your aunt will have my balls.” He smacked the roof of the car twice then headed toward the bar without looking back.
“I promise.” Sam got into the driver’s seat and shifted the beast into gear. The old Plymouth sped off toward Route 1, as if old Luis put a Hemi under its rusty hood.
He had a woman to catch.
Chapter 9
After an hour-long stifling drive out of the city, Jamie pulled her rental car up to what appeared to be an abandoned hotel in the middle of nowhere. After making the exchange earlier that day, and the gunfire she’d heard as she’d gotten into her taxi, she decided at the last minute to rent a car.
She thought she’d seen the guy she gave the briefcase to following her, but she couldn’t be certain from all the people and traffic condensing the streets. It was too much to take in all at once. She wasn’t used to this insanity, she wasn’t a female version of James Bond. Somebody had fired a bullet at her. This was real. Very real. But no matter how terrified she felt, she had to be tough and pull through—if not for herself, then at least for Monty.
Vines covered one side of the building. A tree pushed through one of the windows on the other. She imagined the hotel to be a stunning vision in its heyday, but now, after many years left to rot in the ever-changing weather, it was a sad sight to behold.
She stared through the car window, unsure if she wanted to get out of the vehicle. This looked like the perfect place to commit murder. Nobody was around. She could probably scream and nobody would hear her.
This is it. This is the end of the road.
Behind a huge hibiscus bush she noticed a small car sitting there with nobody behind the wheel. If she didn’t notice fresh tire tracks behin
d the car she would’ve thought the vehicle had been abandoned long ago, just like the hotel. She took a deep breath to regulate the pace of her pounding heart. She had to be tough now. Had to do whatever she could to ensure Monty’s safe release. Get this done and over with, and return to some normalcy. Anything was better than this.
Jamie opened the door and stepped out, holding the briefcase tight to her side. She wandered around the side of the building, not sure exactly where she was supposed to meet the contact. She hadn’t been told any names, wasn’t given any descriptions of faces. She was left completely in the dark on this insane adventure. But she couldn’t turn back now, even if she wanted to tuck her tail between her legs and flee.
A lizard scurried from beneath a nearby shrub, making her jump back and suck in a sharp breath. It quickly disappeared beneath the overgrowth of vine climbing up the crumbling façade.
“Hello?” Jamie peered through an old window, long void of glass. Inside the weathered building she noticed what was once beautiful dark wood furniture completely covered in a blanket of dust. Everything was covered in a thick layer of time, which also proved that her contact did not pass through this way. Back in its day this place must have been a beautiful hotel with its high ceilings, numerous columns, lovely archways, and a grand staircase in the middle of the floor. But none of that mattered with so much at stake.
She kept pushing forward, growing more nervous with each passing second and not a response from the person she was supposed to meet. She jerked around and clutched her throat as a huge parrot, followed by a flock of small black birds, flew out of a tree right beside her. She blew out a startled breath. Freaked out and on edge was the understatement of the decade. Now that she thought about it, it seemed that every time she turned around, something jumped out to scare her.
When she took a turn at the back of the building and into an overgrowth of vines and shrubs at the garden, she saw a woman dressed in a black pantsuit, sitting on a low garden wall near the treeline. Stiff and straight, the woman sat poised as if she had royalty running through her veins. Chin high, dark hair pulled back tight, blood red lipstick on her thin lips. Jamie instantly hated her. This woman had the look of a true bitch who was used to getting everything she wanted.