Nesbitt pivoted and the knife flashed toward my throat. Cringing, I closed my eyes a split second before the blast assaulted my ears and a warm wave splashed across my face.
With no thought toward any consequences, I screamed.
CHAPTER 76
Miss Martin. You’re safe. Calm down.
He’s real bad. There’s blood in his ears.
Get my lawyer now.
Don’t move motherfucker.
We got three over here.
Is she shot?
We need ambulances. Send the crime scene team. Hell, send everybody.
Holy shit, a shotgun sure does the job.
“Miss Martin, open your eyes.”
Something gentle and clumsy rubbed my face. I shrank as far as I could from the touch, but it followed me.
“Miss Martin, can you hear me? Open your eyes, please. You’re safe.”
Still cringing and with my ears ringing, I opened my eyes a slit and saw nothing but the white Stetson. I screamed again.
“Miss Martin. You have to calm down. It’s me, Daryl Fisk. Nesbitt is dead.”
Dead?
The word clicked somewhere in my terror-drenched brain.
“Can you hear me?” Fisk’s voice had an edge of panic.
“I can hear you.” I opened my eyes. Through the gummy haze, I registered Fisk’s red face smiling in relief.
Then I felt his hands on my waist. I thrashed and screamed while he pulled the bloody rags far enough up to cover my bare breasts.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry. Please. I swear. I’m sorry. Miss Martin, we’re going to get you down. Can you hold still while I brace your feet? Please?”
I waited until he backed away from me and held up his hands before I nodded.
He seemed thankful to have something to do that didn’t include tending to me. Grabbing a stack of books from a shelf, he knelt and wedged them under my feet until I was standing on a firm surface. Cramps knotted my calves, but I didn’t feel like I was falling anymore.
Across the room, two officers debated about cutting Ethan loose or waiting for the paramedics. Hanging from the barre, he was still unconscious with bruises erupting along his jawline and under his eyes.
My heart constricted. I didn’t know what to feel.
Tearing my gaze away, I turned to Rockhound. Two officers had him cuffed and face down on the floor while he yelled for a lawyer. In another lifetime, that would have been me getting that call. I was too hurt and exhausted to feel more than a twinge of pleasure, but it was then that I knew it was over and I was going to make it.
At my feet, Nesbitt wasn’t just dead; he was dead with extreme prejudice. The shotgun blast had taken off most of his head. My stomach lurched when I realized what Fisk had wiped off my face. It was worth it. I wanted to spit on him.
“Deputy, get over here and help me get her down,” said Fisk.
The look on the young lawman’s face confirmed my fear. He could barely look at me and his skin was on the green side. He put his hands out, but didn’t seem to know where to grab me.
Fisk sighed in frustration. “Let me have your jacket.”
He took the windbreaker and tied the arms around my neck making a floppy bib. It was silly, but it worked. The deputy was very tall, so the garment hung all the way past my shorts. It felt good to be covered.
Fisk spoke. “Miss Martin, the cut on your chest is still bleeding. When we remove the cuffs and you lower your arms, it may get worse. Do you want to wait for the paramedics? They’re just a couple of minutes out.”
I met his eyes. “Get me the fuck down.”
A slight smile creased his face. “Now that’s the Juliana Martin I’m used to.”
He clipped the left binding first. My shoulder creaked before my arm flopped numb and tingling to my side. I teetered, but kept my balance. Then he cut the right one. No longer supported by the cuff, my right arm fell halfway before my shredded shoulder joint caught and gave a loud pop. My vision exploded white and then gray, as I twisted and crumpled forward, completely ripping open my wound. Surprised arms caught me and carried me to the floor, where I lay bleeding and sobbing until the paramedics arrived and a needle prick sent me into blessed oblivion.
CHAPTER 77
“I don’t care if you’re the president, the pope, and Christ-on-a-cupcake. You are not questioning my daughter. I have the governor and two senators on speed dial, so you just get the hell out of here before I call hospital security.”
Mom?
CHAPTER 78
A few years ago, Dad took controlling interest in three high-rise projects in the Museum District of Houston in lieu of legal fees. When the developer’s fondness for white powdery substances outstripped even my legal skill, we took full ownership. My mother had been born into Houston real estate and she took on managing the buildings in exchange for a hefty cut of the gross.
Forty million later, the only thing that remained in her name was this three-million-dollar view attached to a couple of thousand square feet of glass and marble. For all its grandeur, tonight not even the panorama of downtown at sunset from this exclusive perch could improve my mood.
The doorbell chimed and Mom’s—hell, I don’t what exactly Greta is, except that lately she’d been doing double-duty as my jailer—answered the door. My first thought was that Gerald was early for our dinner meeting. He’d seen all of my bruises and bandages, as well as the ridiculous harness they’d strapped me into after my shoulder surgery, so my current state of undress, a light bathrobe and flip flops, didn’t bother me.
“Miss Martin, there is someone here to see you. He says he knows you from Austin.”
Ethan?
My heart turned and dropped at the same time. The last time I’d seen him he’d still been hanging from the broken barre. Since then, I’d asked Jackson and Snow about him and all they would say is that he was unavailable.
“Show him out here and I’d like some tea, please.”
“As you wish.”
I gathered the neck of the bathrobe, suddenly self-conscious about the bandages that still covered me from neck to breasts. The sliding glass door to the balcony opened and I turned.
“Hola Abogada.”
Joaquin Fuentes looked nothing like a biker and everything like a dot-com millionaire. Decked out in total Friday business-casual gear of khakis and short-sleeve Henley, even his tattoos looked more hip than street.
Still feeling self-conscious, I motioned to the other chair on the balcony.
“Joaquin, this is such a wonderful surprise. May I offer you something to drink?”
“Thank you, Juliana. A soda would be wonderful. Diet please,” he replied, mimicking my society manners.
My keeper stood at the slider curiosity blazing on her face. I pointed to the kitchen. “Greta?”
She caught the dismissal and closed the door. One look into his eyes and we both laughed.
“Joaquin, I can’t believe it. How did you find me?”
“Abogada, we have people at the hospital. For every brother in colors, I bet we have three sisters working as cooks, maids, and clerks. Shy smiling Mexicans ready to do your bidding. You can’t buy coffee in south Texas without a Gato asking if you want cream and sugar. Seriously, how the hell are you? Oso has been worried sick.”
“I’m getting there.” I thought about how and how much to tell him. It must have shown in my face.
“Don’t worry. I know most all of it. In fact, pretty lady, it turns out that you and the cop owe us big-time.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What did I just say about Gatos being everywhere? The wife of one of our mechanics, and I did not know this at the time or I would have told you, was a housekeeper out at that asswipe’s fake ranch. That day Fuckhead dismissed the household staff with no reason. But she and two others went in to do inventory or some shit. They thought the boss was gone and they’d have the place to themselves. They heard shots and turned on the video. Did you kno
w he had every room in that house, including the bathrooms, wired with cameras?”
I thought about my own visits to the ladies’ room and cringed.
“Joaquin, I can honestly say that’s one piece of info I didn’t need.”
Greta knocked and I motioned for her to put our drinks on the table. Still wide-eyed with unanswered questions, she threw me a pout before leaving.
“Well, the maids are only supposed to have the codes to use the vid in the dining room and by the pool. But they figured out how to get around that a long time ago. They tuned in and saw what was happening to you.”
He stopped and leaned back pounding his fist into his palm. Eyes narrowed, the laid back yuppie vanished and no one would mistake this man for anything other than what he was.
“The girls freaked out and ran like they were on fire. They left the gates open and called the local cops from the city. I’m sorry they didn’t call sooner. I really am.”
I’m just glad they called.
That explained the city boys and the deputies, but what about Fisk and his guys?
“Do you know why the Rangers were there?”
“No, that information is beyond the scope of even my magic eight-ball. But, for once, I’m glad they showed up. How’s the cop doing? I heard that he took it bad.”
On its face, that was a simple and legit question. I wished the answer was as straightforward. Every night before sleep came, voices crawled through my head, Ethan’s saying, “I brought a skill set they thought they needed,” and Nesbitt cackling, “Price was a handpicked dick-for-hire and he jumped at the job when we told him about you.”
“Joaquin, that’s done with. I haven’t seen him since the law kicked down the door. Just as well. Things weren’t what they seemed.”
He looked at me close, wanting to ask, but deciding against it. I saw a twinge that could have been hope before the curtain came down again.
“Sorry to hear that. For a cop, he was all right and one tough bastard for making that ride back to Austin bleeding like a stuck pig. I have to respect that. So, what’re your plans?”
I heard the invitation buried in there. Right now, it wasn’t even tempting. I needed to get away from everyone fussing on me day and night. Between debriefings, depositions, sessions with a shrink, medical appointments, and dealing with my mother, all I wanted was to curl up in the top rack of my camper with Simon and a book. I don’t think I’ve ever missed anything like I missed that damn scrap of dog. Stella had offered to bring him to Houston, but Mom put the skids on that fast.
“I don’t really have any. I get this torture device off next week. Justice should be through with me by then as well. Don’t worry, I know where Austin is and I still need to get that Eagle back to Oso.”
A smile told me that he got my message to not push anything.
“Dad told me about that. Don’t shit work weird? Uncle Tigre couldn’t believe it when you showed up and told him about that pistol. Well, I have one more item of interest and then I’ll jet before your dragon-lady momma gets home.”
“Damn it, Joaquin, I was in a rotten mood. How dare you be funny.”
“It’s good to see you smile. Abogada, Tigre and Oso both lost it when they found out about this. They green-lighted everyone involved. I mean everybody. Bounties, the whole works. I talked Oso off the ledge about going after the cops because that’s bad for business, but if that Rockhound dude ever shows his face again, including at his ranch, we’re taking him down. After the order was issued, we started hunting that fat fuck Preacher Joe. He wasn’t at his cafe, but we finally found him at another of his haunts. He got the rat-bastard treatment after he gave up some interesting info.”
I let this knowledge sink in and discovered that I felt nothing. I didn’t need the details. A rat-bastard’s head was always found some place public as a message. Only his head was found because the body was rarely intact anymore. It didn’t bother me that it didn’t bother me.
“What good news did Bemba give you?”
“His instructions had been to send you to some construction site where you’d be snatched by Nesbitt’s crew. Instead, Bemba sent you two out to that ranch. He was going to extract what info he could and then ransom you to Rockhound. Chica, if you ever feel guilty about what you did, just drop it. I’m not going to tell you what the brothers found in the barn. Damn. I finished Bemba off myself.”
“I appreciate that and it fills in some gaps. Evidently Rockhound freaked when we disappeared. He had a tail on us, but when we didn’t do what they expected us to, they lost track of us.”
“Makes sense. Long story short, anyone who raises their head as being part of this is a dead man, per Oso and Tigre’s orders. I’m here because they sent me to personally verify you were good and to tell you that anything you need or want is yours. No questions asked.”
I had to smile. What girl wouldn’t want guardian angels like these?
Joaquin continued. “I remember Will’s case. I had just defended my thesis. We all appreciated what you did for the family. He’s a good kid who has nothing to do with the club and we’re going to keep it that way. Man, my dad used to give Tigre shit about you.”
“Wait a second, your thesis?”
Joaquin sat back, his arms folded, looking cool and sophisticated. I remembered the first time I saw him at the head of the bike wedge, firmly in command. I also knew that, like Ethan, I had underestimated him.
What is my problem? Why do I do that?
“What you mean, sistah? You no think da brown boy is smart? You theenk I only go to da school to empty da trash? I’m sorry to disappoint you. In order to get my dad to pay for my bachelor’s in English Lit, I had to agree to an MBA. I made it a double master’s in business and finance. I came back to the family business when Tigre went down and Oso took the gavel. Dad needed me. I can’t say I regret it. It has certain privileges and the jackets are cooler.”
“Hey, cut me a break. The first time we met you were packing a .50-cal. By the way, didn’t they tell you that a man with a briefcase can steal more than a man with a gun?”
“I have both. Imagine what I can do now.” He waggled his eyebrows.
It felt good to laugh. “Point taken. Now you were telling me something about Tigre.”
“It’s nothing specific, a bunch of old clubhouse stories. Just know that he loves you like fire. You are the one woman he would have considered giving up the gavel for and, of course, he’d have patched you in a heartbeat. You are his thunderbolt.”
Damn.
“I’m honored. You’d have never known it with all the trash talk and innuendo. I thought I was going to be tossed to the brotherhood at any moment.”
“Machismo. Trust me, if anyone had touched you—well, let’s just say the taking clause would have kicked in. Still, if it had been me, I’d have never let you go.”
Double damn.
I didn’t say anything.
“Abogada, can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why is it that you can accept the worst in people without batting an eye, but their best makes you so uncomfortable?”
The question caught me flat-footed. I had no answer except to squirm under his gaze.
“Are you sure your degree isn’t in psychology?”
“I do have a few units. Whenever I had to take an eight o’clock class, I tried for something in the Humanities building. It was close to the dorm and that mattered on Monday mornings.”
I burst out laughing, grateful he was letting me off the hook.
The silence weighed heavy.
“Joaquin, I don’t have an answer for you. It’s probably because someone’s best means I’ll have to commit to something.”
“I can understand that.” Joaquin stood to go.
“Please give my regards, affection, and respect to Tigre and your father.”
“Hey sestah, you is solid. I’d high-five you, but, you know. By the way, I brought you something. The housekeeper let m
e put it in your bedroom on the way out here.”
“Oh, don’t let her hear you say that. Greta’s a domestic assistant.”
He shook his head. “You ever want a proper housekeeper, one that doesn’t have a stick up her ass, you call me and I’ll fix you up. But for now, I’m headed back to Austin. Take care.”
I stood. He accepted my stilted one-arm hug and responded with a soft kiss on my still-bruised cheek. It was close enough to my lips to send a small shiver through me.
Greta was at the balcony door the second Joaquin opened it. While she saw him out, I took the opportunity to slip down the hall to my room where a pleasant and confusing surprise greeted me. On the bed was my backpack and Ethan’s duffel, the ones we’d left in the Challenger when we fled. A peek in my pack showed my laptop was there and the key still installed in the port. A double delight, my forged passports and ID papers, along with my pistols, were still in the pocket.
I didn’t know what to do with Ethan’s bag. I hefted it in my good hand and heard a faint metallic clink. Curiosity got the best of me and I unzipped it. Buried in the t-shirts and jeans was the Cutter, the Mossberg, and Ethan’s P226. It looks like my adopted family didn’t want to send me out into the world unarmed.
I pulled out the olive drab shirt he’d worn the night we’d gone to Mike’s club. It was just a thin rumpled rag, but I couldn’t stop myself from holding it to my cheek and inhaling the faint smell of soap, cologne, and sweat while I remembered the cocky smile when he’d pulled me into his arms and whispered in my ear.
I’ve wanted to do that since about five minutes after you opened the door . . .
Price’s mission was to get your panties off . . .
“Enough of this.” I threw the shirt back in the bag, zipped it up, and stashed it in my closet. I’d deal with those ghosts later. If only he’d come to see me in the hospital or contacted me since. I’d told Gerald I wouldn’t sign anything until Justice let me talk to him. They’d refused, but swore to me that he was alive. I’d had no choice but to back down, give in, and sign my statements.
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