by Nico Rosso
“He’s not in trouble,” Ty reassured her. “But he’ll be here.”
Esme pursed her lips with concern. “You’re not just here for dinner.”
“Dinner, yes.” Then Ty shook his head. “And...”
“Justice,” Mariana finished.
After a moment of scrutiny from Esme, she asked, “Balducci?”
The question sent a shiver over Mariana’s skin. It was said like a mystic password opening an invisible door. She’d only started to learn the history of her family, yet these people knew so much. “Si,” she answered. “Mariana Balducci.”
Sympathy filled Esme’s eyes. “Are you doing all right?”
“Surviving.” Mariana found the side of Ty’s leg with her knuckles. “Thanks to Ty. And the rest of you.” She took a chance, guessing that Esme was part of the growing Frontier Justice.
Esme’s face suddenly shuttered to a neutral expression. “Two number four plates.” Her fingers flew over the register, then tore off a short receipt and handed it to Ty. He reached for his wallet and she shook her head discreetly. Mariana saw there was a backup of two more groups behind them. Esme shot her a quick wink, then addressed the next people for their order.
Ty and Mariana moved down the counter where they could see the activity of the kitchen through a service window. A server brought trays from the window to the counter and called out numbers. Ty gripped the receipt and whispered to Mariana under the noise at this end of the restaurant. “Esme’s family goes back with all of ours. Taqueria de la Amapola numbers one through three are hers, throughout the bay, with ears and eyes that catch everything.”
“And Javier?” A few weeks ago, she had only a couple of friends to rely on, and now there was a whole shady network working to protect her.
“Her brother.” His wry smile revealed there were stories to be told.
Esme herself hustled a tray of food from the service window to Ty and Mariana. She walked them down the counter a bit, away from the other people, and spoke under her breath. “I hope you have a fight for Javier. He’s been howling at the moon since Dahlia and I don’t want him hurting himself or anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”
Ty took the tray from her. “We have a fight for him.”
Relief, then concern washed over Esme’s face. “Be safe.”
“We’ll try.” Ty gave her a small nod.
“Gracias.” Mariana shared a warm look with Esme before joining Ty at a bent-wood booth against one wall. Pork tacos, rice and beans and plastic forks. “Perfect,” she told him, then dug in. She was halfway through her plate before she realized that their foam cups were still stacked and empty. Without asking his preference, she took them to the machine and returned with the cups brimming with orange soda. “The only way.” She put the cups down.
Ty toasted her with his. “Agreed.” She knocked her cup against his. If it was a date night in the city, it would be going well. The man certainly knew where to take her for dinner. Not fancy, but nourishing to the soul. But the pistols they carried, the fight they’d been in and the one they headed for told her this was no ordinary date. And still, she couldn’t imagine being out here with anyone other than Ty.
They were nearly done with their meals when a new presence in the front door drew Ty’s attention. He took on that familiar readiness that made her pulse quicken and her awareness sharpen. A thickly muscled Latino man in his twenties approached their table. He wasn’t tall, but his broad shoulders and confident stride were imposing enough. His gaze scanned the restaurant, pausing for a brief greeting to Esme. This must be the brother.
The man walked right up to their booth and sat next to Ty. He had the knuckles of a fighter, and tattoos across the backs of his hands. Another tattoo crept out of his T-shirt collar and up the side of his neck. The long sleeves of his hoodie must’ve hid more ink. He stared at her, hard eyes, with a deeper pain somewhere in there. “Hola.” Tipping his head back made the light shine on his black hair.
“Hola,” she replied.
The man turned his attention to Ty. “What’s up, Hammer?”
Ty put his fist out and the man bumped it. “Been a minute, Javier.” She witnessed yet another facet of Ty, understanding how he could operate on the streets of this city.
Javier leaned back in the booth and jammed his hands in his hoodie pockets. “You going to get us into trouble tonight?”
“That’s the plan.”
Javier stared soulfully at the ceiling. “Thank God.”
Ty pushed his plate aside and spoke quietly. “The Seventh Syndicate.”
“Seriously?” Javier sat up straighter.
“They’re the muscle behind this,” Ty said. “We’ve got to hit the hitters.”
Seeing a brutally powerful man like Javier react to the syndicate made her nerves start to hum louder. Javier took a long breath and rocked his head from side to side, stretching his powerful neck. When he came to rest, his gaze was on Mariana. “You’re Balducci?”
The name used to mean just apples. The orchard up on the hill. Something painted on the fence post that marked her property, and over the door of the shop she ran in town. Seeing the name hadn’t been enough to discourage the Hanley Group from contacting her, or to scare them off from bringing in the Seventh Syndicate when she’d declined the offer. The history of that name, its power, had been unknown until Ty brought it and Frontier Justice to her. It was more than a name now. A vow. A weapon to defend herself. She looked Javier in the eye and declared, “I’m Mariana Balducci.”
Chapter Seventeen
Mariana’s simple statement rocked Ty. He heard her pride and her strength as she said her name. He’d been searching so long for Frontier Justice as a concept, he’d lost track of the people. Never again. Mariana—the woman, the fighter—continued to surprise him and he wanted to go on learning her forever.
Even Javier seemed impressed. He took his hands from his pockets and leaned his elbows on the table so he could crack his knuckles. “Ring the bell.”
Ty took his phone out of his coat pocket and laid it on the table. “Stephanie’s tracking someone’s movement. As soon as he’s home, we’re knocking on the door.”
Javier started to shift, impatient. “And you just decided to have a nice little dinner date over number four plates?” He chuckled as if it was absurd. The laugh died out when he swung his look between Ty and Mariana. “Really?” he asked, incredulous.
Ty stared directly into his friend’s eyes. “Really.”
“Absolutamente,” Mariana added, her chin up, unafraid. Seeing her certainty pulsed a hot bloom in his chest.
“Awesome,” Javier grumbled as his gaze dropped to the table.
A recent breakup had shaken the man, and Ty didn’t want him to spiral down. “I arrested this punk twice,” he told Mariana. “Bailed him out once. I’ve bought him more beers than he’ll ever buy me.”
Javier’s mood brightened enough for him to scowl at Ty. “You get that government paycheck.”
Ty shrugged it off. “As long as Esme gives me gratis burritos, we’re even.”
Javier shifted his focus to Mariana. “But you’ve got to know my man Hammer here might look all quiet and serious, but he can go beast. Like, pop!” He flashed a jab halfway across the table. “Suddenly someone’s knocked all the way out and Hammer here is just chill, polishing his badge.”
“I’ve seen it.” Mariana examined Ty, a small smile on her face.
“You’ve seen it?” Javier sounded doubtful.
Her smile grew wider. “How do you think he closed the deal?”
“I’ve seen her fight, too.” Ty gazed at her and savored the heat she returned in a look.
Javier stood from the table. “I’m going to sit by my lonesome at the window and let you two get on with your getting on.” After one step away, Ty’s phone buzzed. Javier froze. Mariana
lost her smile.
Ty checked the phone. It was a message from Stephanie. “He’s home.” He and Mariana got up. All three of them headed for the door.
Javier nudged Ty’s shoulder. “Text me the address. I’m not riding with you two steaming up the windows.”
Mariana pulled the front door open. “There’s no room in the truck anyway.”
“You drive a truck?” Javier paused in the restaurant to give his sister a nod. Ty and Mariana waved to her, and Esme waved back, quiet concern on her face. As soon as they were all on the sidewalk, Javier jammed his hands into his hoodie pockets and shouldered into Ty a little harder. “You’re a lucky son of a bitch, Hammer.”
“For once.” Ty pasted Innes’s address in the Almaden Valley area of San Jose into a text. Javier’s phone rang with an alert shortly after. “Go dark,” he told his friend.
Javier gave him and Mariana a little salute and headed down the street in the opposite direction of her truck. Once they were clear of any pedestrians, Ty murmured to Mariana, “Stephanie and Vincent are meeting us there, too.”
“Five of us.” Mariana rolled her shoulders. He saw her trying to stay loose, but knew the nerves would be growing, just like in him. “How many syndicate men?”
“Unknown.” He didn’t like jumping in without a solid plan, but the time to strike was now. “But they don’t know how many we have, either.” Remarkable that it was only a few nights ago that he’d heard her angry refusal to the attacker in the dark parking lot. Ty had leaped into that fight with a pounding pulse, knowing he had to help her. His blood still rushed as he walked beside her, ready to finish that battle.
They reached the truck and she held out her hand. “I drive, you point the way.” Tension constricted her voice.
Ty handed her the keys and stayed close. “We’re going to make it through tonight.”
She spoke quietly. “And after tonight?”
“You’ll be free.”
A tiny smile broke her serious expression. She shook her head and clarified, “I’ll be with you.”
The cool night air rushed through him in a long breath. “You’d better be.” He moved around to the passenger side as she placed her backpack behind her seat. The metal of the revolver inside clunked against some tools. The clean pistol sat foreign on his hip.
Traffic thinned as the hours pushed later. He directed her to a highway and they made their way south out of the city and toward San Jose. The shovels rattled in the bed of the truck. Mariana gripped the steering wheel with both hands. His gut clenched. They were stirring up trouble, but going in tight was a sure way to make a mistake and get hurt.
“Are there woodworking tools in that barn of yours?” He stared ahead at the taller buildings in the distance.
“Some.”
“Enough to finish the window repairs?”
“I’d think so.” One of her hands released the steering wheel and ran through her hair. Instead of returning to the wheel, it dropped to her thigh. “You learned all that on your grandparents’ farm?”
“And at my folks’ place. We’re all handy.” He watched her fingers loosen on the wheel. “There’s some wood rot on the roof over your porch I could knock out.”
“That would be great.” She scooted forward in her seat a little, leaning back. “Keep it from squeaking when the wind picks up.”
“My cousin in Oakland is a welder, if there’s any metalwork to be done.”
“Can’t think of anything offhand, but that’s good to know.” Her elbow rested on the door, hand propped gently on the steering wheel. A sense of calm diffused through the cab of the truck, as if the sound of the tires on the highway was the drone of bees on a summer day. Ty’s shock nearly ruined it for him. Pockets of stillness before the storm were not unusual for him. He’d learned how to live within the rhythm of crisis and recovery. But what surprised him was that making plans for the repairs didn’t wind up his sense of dread. In the past, arrangements like that always worried him as they conflicted with the demands of his work. Now, he found himself looking forward to simple time with Mariana and the house.
His phone buzzed. Both he and Mariana stiffened their postures. Vincent reported in a text that Ty read aloud. “‘Eight men on the perimeter.’” He put the phone down. “We’re going to fix up your house,” he reassured her, and himself.
The city of San Jose rose up around them. He navigated her through some highway complications, then had them exit into a sprawling semirural suburb. The trees grew thicker at the flanks of the road as Mariana drove them toward the low hills at the edge of a short valley. Large homes stood behind stone walls and metal gates. The farther into the hills they climbed, the more space surrounded each mansion.
“Kill the lights,” Ty directed. She did and slowed, leaning forward. The terrain emerged in the infrequent high streetlamps and landscape lighting that displayed the impressive front greenery of the houses. The neighborhood was quiet and they didn’t pass any other cars. Ty texted Vincent that they were close. A quick response indicated their position. Ty pointed. “Turn right at the next street.”
The truck swung into a wide street between walled compounds. Higher, past their edges, the nature of the hills took over. A small white light flashed in the deepest darkness, probably Vincent signaling with his phone. Mariana eased the truck in that direction. The asphalt ended. She stopped next to a broad oak tree.
His boots crunched on dry leaves. Mariana grabbed her backpack and stepped around the truck to join him in the thickest shadows. Stephanie’s voice in the dark drew them forward. “Vincent is still over the wall.”
Somehow Stephanie made simple black pants and a black military jacket over a bulletproof vest look stylish. Javier stood next to her, still wearing his dark hoodie and a sullen expression. He did light up a bit when he gestured with his shoulder toward the eight-foot-high stone wall fifty yards away. “At least we get to mess up a nice neighborhood.”
Stephanie stepped closer to Mariana. “Do you have a gun?” Mariana unzipped her backpack and pulled out the Magnum. Its menace glinted in the dim light. Stephanie’s eyes widened. “That’s a big yes.”
“Damn, girl.” Javier moved backward.
Stephanie glared at him. “You’re not carrying?”
He put his palms out to her. “I’ve got priors, sister.”
“Well, what good are you—”
Ty cut Stephanie off. “He doesn’t need one to make them hurt.” She hissed something between acceptance and frustration.
An approaching footstep in the darkness drew everyone’s attention. Ty noted that Mariana had the sense not to raise the revolver and kept the barrel safely pointed at the ground. Vincent silhouetted against a lit portion of the stone wall. He was shaking his head when he arrived with the group. “Could you guys talk any louder?” He caught sight of the pistol in Mariana’s hand. “Thanks for bringing the artillery.”
Mariana whispered, “Family heirloom.”
“We might need it.” Vincent walked the group to the back of his SUV and reported, “Eight around the house. Don’t know how many inside.” He opened the trunk and handed two bulletproof vests out to Ty, who helped Mariana into hers before strapping his own on. Javier thumped his chest, the body armor sounding solid under his hoodie. Vincent continued, “I’ve already disabled the motion lights on this side of the compound. Two-story house. The only security cameras are on the front. If we stay on the outside of the driveway, we’re in the clear. I’m presuming Innes will take the high ground and be on the second floor once the bullets start flying. Bedroom or office.”
Mariana spoke up. “Bedroom.” All eyes turned to her. “If he thinks he’s under attack, like in a bunker, he’ll want to have access to a bathroom and running water.”
Vincent nodded. “I’ll buy that.”
Ty peered into the dark past the wall, but couldn’t pic
k out any details of the house. “We can use the plumbing vents to locate bathrooms.”
Stephanie looked at the sky and turned a half circle. “Start at the back of the house. Best views and away from sunrise.”
Ty breathed easier, knowing a plan was taking shape. He addressed Vincent, Stephanie and Javier. “You guys draw the guards to the front, hold them down.” Glancing at Mariana, he saw her taking it all in, unblinking. But she stood strong, jaw set. “We’ll hook around back, quiet, then make our noise when we find Innes and whatever Seventh Syndicate sons of bitches are with him.”
Vincent and the others nodded. Mariana put the pistol in her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She turned toward the compound. “Ring the bell.”
Javier hissed out a laugh. Ty couldn’t. He grabbed a shovel from the bed of the truck and started walking toward the house. Mariana remained at his side. The group approached the wall. With each step closer, he felt the adrenaline shoot through him. The mission from the beginning was to save Mariana’s land. The stakes had increased with each new escalation from the syndicate, and with each silent connection with Mariana. His muscles flared with hot electricity and his pulse raced. Tonight he had to protect her at all costs.
The eight-foot wall stood before them.
Mariana spoke low. “Just a few days ago I was worried about how to get the apples harvested. And now...” Her hands shook as she gathered her hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a band from her pocket.
Ty stood close and whispered, “I haven’t seen your music collection yet.”
Javier huffed, “You’re flirting now?”
Stephanie smacked his shoulder. “Shut up.”
Ty ignored them and kept talking to Mariana. “Pick a song. Something you can dance to.” He already had one running through his head, the same as he used every time he was walking into a tight situation. “That’s your theme song.”