“I’m going to let you up. But know I’m more than capable of defending myself if you attack.” Cord pushed off and stood.
Ranger shot to his feet, his fists balled. His chest expanding and contracting with the force of a five-hundred-pound compressor. Cord didn’t back away, but stood ready.
Men with something to hide didn’t stand tall. Cord told the truth. Ranger forced his fingers to uncurl, one at a time. “Sorry. I have a problem with grown men hitting kids.”
Everyone in the room was standing by now, the tension thick as the August humidity. They were all ready to launch in for the attack. Pulled tight like a bomb.
Cord was the one who diffused it. He smiled then and nodded at Ranger. “I feel the same way.”
Ranger took the offering of peace and turned back to Artie, who cowered in a ball in the chair. His knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, holding on tight.
Ranger sighed and dropped into a squat right in front of Artie. “I’m sorry, little man. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. I thought he had hurt you.”
Artie gave a cry and launched from the chair, wrapping his arms and legs around Ranger, nearly knocking them both to the floor. Thanks to his quick reflexes, Ranger caught the boy and grabbed onto the table to keep from toppling backwards. Artie’s body shook with sobs.
Ranger’s chest tightened in a vise of regret and sorrow and fury. Fucking Santos must have hit Pedro’s house before trying to break into Amy’s. Ranger eased into the newly vacated chair and held onto the young boy, rubbing soothing circles on his back. The gesture felt awkward, but he’d seen Amy comfort Chloe that way.
“You know this boy?” Grey spoke from the wall of monitors.
Ranger spun around to face his commander, but held tight to Artie. “Yes, his father works for Amy Carter. Shane’s widow.”
The room fell silent except for Artie, who’d only started to cry harder.
“Good. Maybe you can get him to talk. I tried but he refused to speak.” Cord said.
“Ranger, I need to know what that boy knows.” Grey’s face might as well be carved from granite. His high-and-tight grey hair was just as stiff as his expression.
Ranger nodded, knowing someone had to question the boy, and it would be better if it were someone he knew. “Give me a minute to calm him down. I’ll call back as soon as I get some intel.”
Grey nodded and the monitor went black. Ranger turned to his brother. “Get me some water and something to clean up his face.”
After Hunter left to gather the supplies, Ranger looked to the rest of the team. “Ya’ll take thirty, give the boy some space. I’ll bring you back in ASAP.”
Everyone gave their agreement and left, the door sliding shut behind them. Hunter returned right after with a fresh bottle of water, a wet washcloth and a first aid kit, and a Hershey’s chocolate bar.
Ranger reached back and peeled Artie’s fingers from his shoulders, forcing the boy to release his death grip. When Ranger saw the dark bruise on Artie’s face up close, he clenched his teeth, reining in the fury. After Ranger’s own abusive past, the sight of another injured child made him boil.
Artie fought to grab onto Ranger again, but the boy was too weak. “I need to clean you up, little man.” Ranger knew his voice was gruff, but didn’t care.
Hunter had the exact same expression of explosive rage.
Artie still cried and shook, but not as hard as a few minutes ago. Ranger took the washcloth and gently wiped the boy’s face, flinching when Artie flinched.
He felt big and clumsy with the child. Once he finished wiping all the dirt off, Ranger inspected Artie for more wounds. Aside from a few more bruises on his arms and some skinned knees, the boy seemed healthy.
Hunter opened the candy bar and extended it forward, crouching down a safe distance away. Artie wiped his eyes and tentatively took the bar, diving back against Ranger’s chest as soon as Hunter let go.
Hunter met Ranger’s gaze over the boy’s head, his black eyes communicating silently. Grey wouldn’t give them all day to question the boy. They needed the intel now, before the Lobellos moved whatever was in those trucks.
Ranger cleared his throat, his mouth feeling dry, his jaw tight. The last thing he wanted to do was upset him when he’d already been through so much, but if he’d seen anything inside the compound that could aid their team, Ranger needed to know. “Artie, you like the chocolate bar?”
Artie didn’t speak, but nodded against Ranger’s chest and his body relaxed a little.
“You want some water?”
Again, no words, but another nod. Hunter uncapped the bottle and handed it to him, waiting on Artie to finish before setting the bottle back on the table.
“Cord was the man who rescued you. He said you were so brave climbing over that wall all by yourself.” Ranger searched his mind for a way to ease into the questions, without upsetting him all over again. Artie’s sobs had turned into quiet sniffles and an occasional hiccup.
“He said he’d never seen anyone climb a wall that fast. You must be really strong to do that. And you must have been really strong to have gotten away from those men.”
Artie stiffened immediately, but Ranger kept rubbing small circles on the boy’s back, trying to keep him calm. “I need you to be strong for me right now and answer a few questions. My team and I, we’re trying to get the bad men and lock them up so they can never hurt anyone again. But we need your help. You saw the inside of their compound. Maybe you saw something that could help us.”
Artie kept his head down and handed the half-eaten candy bar back to Hunter. Ranger stiffened, afraid he’d asked too much too soon. But then Artie sat up straighter and faced the brothers, Ranger still sitting holding him in his lap, Hunter crouched right beside them.
“The man, Santos, he-he came to my house. He fought with Papa and took me away. I tried to fight him. I tried to stay with Papa, but he was too strong.”
“So he took you but left your papa at home?” Ranger asked.
“Si. He hit him and Papa didn’t get back up.” Artie’s voice cracked, a sob escaped. Ranger tightened his arms around the boy and tilted his head to Hunter. His brother stood and walked outside. Ranger wished with all his might Pedro was simply unconscious, but he hadn’t alerted the authorities and it had been over twenty-four hours. The most likely scenario was gloomy, but they would confirm and hope for the best. Even if the Lobellos weren’t known for leaving witnesses.
“I’m sending my brother to check on your dad right now. He will take care of your dad.”
Artie nodded and stayed against Ranger’s chest. “Artie, I need to know what you saw at their compound. Where did they keep you?”
“Santos throw me in the trunk. When we stop, we already inside. There were big buildings. He took me to the last one. He hit me and threatened me. Then he throw me inside and locked the door. There were a whole lot of kids there, like me. Mexican. And there were white kids, too. All of them were quiet. They were scared.”
Artie took a shuddering breath and Ranger squeezed him tight. “Keep going. You’re doing so good.”
“I talk to a boy. He been there a while, he didn’t know how long. He say the men come in and bring food once a day. They keep two men inside all the time, to watch us and make sure we stay quiet. But the men drink and they talk and yell.
If anyone cries or screams, the men hurt them. At night, when everyone slept, the men talk and drink. I listen.”
Ranger felt the first leap of hope. “What did you hear?”
Artie sniffled and wiped his nose. “They say they have big deal happening soon. They going to be rich, like the cartel.”
“Did they say what the big deal was?”
“No. They just talk and talk. They talk about selling us kids in Mexico. About how much more the white kids will make them.”
“Did they say any names? Anything about guns?” Ranger tried to keep calm, but his heart was pounding against his sternum.
/>
Artie held silent for a minute. Then he spoke. “The night I escaped, I hear loud trucks. The men say they getting lots of guns. They kept drinking.”
“Did they say a name? Who had the guns?” Ranger said.
Artie sucked in a breath and sobbed. “I no remember, senor. Please, I want my papa. Please don’t give me back to them.”
Artie grabbed onto Ranger’s shirt, his little nails digging into his ribcage. The fear in the boy was a real, living thing.
“Shhh, it’s okay. I will never let them hurt you again. I swear it.” Ranger hugged the boy to him, the surge of protectiveness taking control.
“P-p-please. I want my papa. I don’t know anything else.” Artie sobbed harder.
Ranger clenched his jaw and tilted his head back, every muscle in his body tightening to the point of snapping. The Lobellos had done this. They had terrorized this child, and no telling how many others were still locked up.
“Artie. I will get your papa. And I will get all of those kids back to their families. I promise you. You were so brave. I am so proud of you.” Ranger rocked the boy back and forth, making soothing sounds and rubbing his back, at a loss of what else to do to give comfort.
He’d never been around kids. Except Chloe, and that was only briefly and when she started fussing Amy had always been there to take charge. Ranger couldn’t remember the last time he felt so helpless.
“I swear to you. I will protect you.”
That was one promise he could keep, even if he had to take the kid himself.
Chapter 17
“You know, the true sign of an alcoholic is drinking alone. This is screwed up.” Amy took another sip of one very large glass of Chardonnay and placed it back on the coffee table. She sat cross legged on Evie’s living room floor, Chloe playing with her toys a foot away.
“Well, thank God you’ve got a friend like me.” Evie leaned back on the couch and propped her feet up on the ottoman.
Chloe crawled into her lap and gave her a goofy toothless grin. “You know, I think we should make this a thing. Every Saturday.”
“Ooh, I know. Sippin’ Saturdays” Amy said as she picked her baby up and placed a big fat kiss on her chubby little cheek.
“So, are you gonna fill me in on Ranger or do I have to entertain myself with imagining what happened?”
Amy sighed and set Chloe back on the floor. Her baby immediately went after the cloth blocks, playing and giggling without a care.
Amy’s insides churned. She wanted so badly to tell Evie everything. About the insanely awesome sex she’d had last night. About the undeniable feelings developing for Ranger.
Hunter and Ranger and Shane were all part of the same team. Evie married Hunter. And Amy bed hopped from Shane to Ranger. Wives didn’t sleep with their husband’s teammates, dead or not.
“He was that good, huh?” Evie lifted a blonde brow, her look pretty much saying she already suspected the truth.
“I don't know what to do. I mean, how messed up is it that I'm screwing Shane's teammate? His best friend, for chrissake.” Amy grabbed her glass and took a gulp, finding she needed a gulp to cleanse her mouth. “Everyone will hate me.”
Her last words were whispered and Amy clutched the glass, staring into its contents. She could lose everything, even her friends.
Evie sat forward. “Are you kidding me? I've sat back and watched you withdraw, watched you completely stop living. Stop smiling. Stop everything since Shane died.”
Amy swallowed and looked away. She knew Evie told the truth. She’d been on autopilot since the funeral. Effectively moving from point A to point B. But she’d never asked for help, for anything. She’d taken care of her family.
Evie slid down to the floor on her knees. “I tried to get you to laugh, to come out to the house, the bar. I tried everything I could think of to help.” Evie’s voice cracked, forcing Amy to look at her. “But I never made you smile. I mean really smile. I couldn’t even get you angry. It was like you shut me out.”
Tears formed in Evie’s eyes and Amy’s chest ached for her friend. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know how to...to move on.”
“But I was always the one who helped you. Only this time I couldn’t help.” Evie’s voice broke again and Amy felt her own tears gather.
“You did help me. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know how I would have survived.” Amy sat her wine down and grabbed Evie’s hand.
“You stopped feeling. But with Ranger, you’re different. He makes you mad. He makes you smile. I’ve seen it. I don’t care if he is part of the Team, he’s good for you.”
“He can’t be good for me. He just can’t. What will his team think? I know they have a code.”
“Who gives a rat’s ass what they think as long as you’re happy.”
“I do. I can’t be that person who asks him to give up his life for me.” His father lived here. His brother. His base was here. In or near Mercy.
Evie squeezed her hand. “Ranger James isn’t some scared little boy. He’s a full-grown man capable of owning up to his choices. His Team will understand, I know Hunter already does. Who else do you think Shane would want for you?”
Amy searched Evie’s expression, looking for something. Anything to make this decision for her. But all she saw was fierce determination and loyalty. “What about everyone else? Don’t you think I’ll be shunned? Rand Carter controls my supply. Mavis will do anything to shut me down. I could lose my business. Then what? How will I support Chloe?”
“No one in this town will shun you for moving on. Are you supposed to be a lonely widow with no hope for happiness for the rest of your life? They will understand. I promise you.”
“What if they don’t?” Amy’s words came out a whisper. Her truest fear choking her words.
“Mavis threatened to tell everyone that me and Ranger had an affair when Shane was alive. That Chloe isn’t Shane’s daughter.”
“That bitch.”
“I know, but you know her cronies will listen. She’s the matriarch of the Baptist church for God sake.”
“She’s crazy.”
“She will ruin my reputation. None of the reputable farmers will hire me.”
“Then screw them all. Ranger loves you. I can see it every time he talks about you, and yes, he does talk about you. All the time. He will take care of you. The question is, can you let him?”
Amy bit her lip and glanced at Chloe, playing happily without a care. If she chose Ranger, she’d be risking everything. Her life. Her business. Her heart.
But if she didn’t that would make her a coward.
“Come on Amy. Do you want to be a lonely old spinster like Ms. Buela, or do you want to live a full and happy life? Give Chloe a father she can be proud of?”
Evie didn’t pull any punches, but then again, that was part of the reason Amy loved her so much. Amy had to make a decision. She had to make the right decision. Should she listen to her mind or her heart?
“You’re right. I don’t want to be alone. I want him.” The same words she’d told Ranger. Only then, she’d been holding back, still scared. She was still afraid, but admitting it out loud somehow freed her. Amy’s lungs expanded and she sucked in a breath, like some huge tumor had been removed from her chest and she could breathe again.
“That’s my girl. Now, we need to celebrate. Go change clothes, let’s go to town.” Evie grabbed the couch and pulled herself to her feet.
“Town? Celebrate? For what?” Amy stayed put, staring up at her friend in confusion.
“To mark this day. You made your decision, you want him. It’s time to show him.”
* * *
An hour later Evie and Amy pulled up to the Stellar Star Salon, with Chloe strapped in the backseat. “What are we doing here?”
Evie unbuckled her seatbelt. “When’s the last time you had your hair done? I can look at your nails and clearly see you couldn’t give a crap about them.”
Amy glanced down at her short and cracked nai
ls, spying some oil beneath one and quickly hiding the evidence. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a salon.
“That’s what I thought. I called, they’ve got a chair waiting.” Evie climbed out and shut the door, leaving Amy with no choice but to scramble out after her.
“But...but...what about Chloe? I can’t possibly spend all afternoon in the salon with a baby.” Amy searched for any excuse. The door to the studio loomed large and foreign. What would she talk about in there? Airplanes and engine oil? It’d been so long since she’d done anything else.
“That’s why I am here. If she gets fussy, I’ll take her down to the ice cream parlor. Now, quit arguing and get Chloe out of the car.” Evie propped a hand on her hip and waited.
She was being stupid really. Why on earth should she be scared of a salon? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been in one before. She’d had her hair cut. She’d even had a few highlights put in for her wedding.
“You’re making me stand out in the heat,” Evie said.
Amy opened the back door and pulled Chloe, still in her infant carrier, out. “I work outside. Don’t try to play on my sympathy.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t. Now get your butt up here so I can get some a/c.”
Before Amy knew it, she followed Evie into the salon, their doorbell chiming a death knell. Mrs. Trudy Van Meter and Mrs. Oralee Bates sat with magazines in the hair setting chairs to the right. Amber Atkins stood behind a salon chair, fixing her lipstick in the full-length mirror. Lori Videl, Evie’s cousin, standing off to the side, removing the black salon apron. Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared.
Amy had to fight to stand her ground and not back up a step. The two older ladies were about as sweet as lemon juice with acid tongues to match. Their reputation for scorching reputations was a well-known fact for nearly the whole state. Evie cleared her throat and said, “Amber, I’ve brought your subject. As you can see, she has seriously neglected herself.”
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