by C. A. Szarek
The shitty trailer he’d found them in popped into his head. He’d started shooting. Joe and Moose had returned fire.
He was sorry about Bran. She’d always been a quiet little thing. But Joe loved her, so she had to go, even if they’d had a little spat and broken up before the John shit had hit the fan.
Seeing the crew leader hold her while she died had been satisfaction enough, though. Well, it could’ve been better. They could’ve died together.
Carter left the parking lot and headed back to Bubba’s place. He needed to hurry so he could nurse that beer. Drunk was about the only way he wouldn’t pound the big guy’s face in. Maybe.
The burner phone in his pocket screamed for his attention before he’d made two turns.
He dug it out and slammed his thumb on the button to answer, cursing the fact he hadn’t bothered with a smart phone. This one was old school. “Yeah?”
“Where you at?” Bubba’s voice had an excited edge that made Carter sit taller in the driver seat.
“On my way back.” He flexed his free hand on the steering wheel and clenched his jaw.
“I got good news.”
His heart skipped and he tightened his grip on the small cell phone, pressing it to his ear until pain bit back. “Yeah?”
“Get your ass back here. I got a call from Arizona.”
Chapter Six
Rowdy rolled over on the mattress and it cushioned his weight instead of digging into his sore side. The squeak of real bed springs made him sigh into actual pillows.
Then he remembered.
Sat up with a gasp.
“Jesus, relax.”
Ordering his heart to calm, he tried to smile for Camille. But the look on his former foster sister’s face told him it hadn’t worked.
Her forehead was creased, marring her mocha skin. Her dark, kinky curls danced around her shoulders as she shook her head. “Someone really worked you over, huh?”
He hadn’t told her why he’d shown up on her doorstep, or why he’d had two barely healed holes in his body. “Cami, like I told you before. It’s safer if you don’t know.”
“So you say. But your damn nightmares keep me up at night, big brother.”
Big brother. No one had called him that in years.
He sank back into the pillows with a sigh, tucking his hands behind his head. “How can you even hear me? You’re down the hall.”
“My apartment isn’t that big.” Cami sat on the edge of the bed. She patted his sweatpants-clad leg. “Just tell me, Eric. You look like you need to talk.”
“I can’t. And I need to go. Staying here is too dangerous for you. I’ll head out in the morning.”
It’d already been three weeks. He’d lain low in California for as long as he’d been able to—almost two months—but when his wounds hadn’t gotten better, and he’d only got sicker, he’d bought a bus ticket and headed to his sister—against his better judgment.
He couldn’t have gone to the hospital, and he hadn’t risked more than a night or two couch surfing. Besides, as soon as they’d heard about his crew, they’d kicked him out anyway. Everybody knew Carter was a vindictive little asshole, and nobody wanted to be targeted by him.
Carter could find him at any moment, even if no one knew about Cami. No one, except Joe Pompa, and it was a good bet his old boss was as dead as the rest of their crew.
At Carter’s hand. The fucker.
“I don’t want you to go. We’re family.”
Rowdy sat up and cupped the side of his sister’s face. He caressed her soft skin and reveled at the beautiful woman the awkward biracial kid who’d constantly complained about her hair had grown into.
Her leaf-green eyes shone with unshed tears, and just about ripped out his heart.
They might not be blood, but they were family.
Which was why he’d walked away from her years ago. He was a fuckup who couldn’t stay out of trouble with the law, and she’d aged out of the system and made something of herself.
“We’ll always be family, Dr. Bonner.”
She smiled.
Somehow that made Rowdy feel worse. He was grateful she’d reopened his messed-up wounds, got the bullets out, stitched him properly and got him antibiotics, but that only meant he’d put her medical license in danger, too.
He’d always be a selfish fuck.
Cami threw her arms around him and hugged him tight.
Rowdy rubbed her back for a moment, like he had when they were kids and she’d woken from a nightmare. They’d met when she’d been four to his nine. A tiny little thing with dark skin and huge emerald eyes.
She’d been the reason he’d stuck around at placement after placement. They’d been in the same foster homes a few times, but even when he’d eventually do something stupid and get booted to the curb, he’d always kept in touch with Cami.
His caseworker had lectured him time and again, citing that she was a positive in his life, and if he didn’t get it together—which he never had—he wouldn’t be allowed contact with Cami. He’d run away at seventeen, anyway.
Then when he was nineteen, he’d met Joe Pompa. The guy had taken him in, given him another family. And a job.
Rowdy was damn good at stealing cars. On the big scale, from trucks and trains. Made a shit-ton of money, too. Most of which was in two duffels under the bed he was currently in. When he left, half of it was staying, even if his sister didn’t know it yet. She could use it for her school loans.
He’d intentionally lost touch with Cami when he’d joined Joe’s crew. She’d been on the fast track to medical school, and he was just a good thief. She didn’t need illegal shit in her life.
“You don’t have to go. No one knows you’re here. It’s safe.” Cami leaned back and stared hard, like she was trying to memorize his face.
It won’t be safe for long. He couldn’t tell her that. Didn’t want to freak her out, and knowing Cami, she’d be pissed and want to protect him. “I do have to go. But I’ll see you again.”
Rowdy didn’t contemplate that he didn’t know where to go. Nowhere was safe.
“Mommy, I can’t sleep.”
His gaze shot to a little boy with messy dark hair and green eyes to match his mother. He rubbed his face with a small fist and fought a yawn. His superhero pajamas had a blue cape attached to the shoulders of the red shirt.
Devon stood in the doorway of the guestroom, his shadow thrown out in the dim light of the hallway behind him. Kind of looked like he was flying, actually.
“C’mere, little man,” Rowdy said. He winced when his side didn’t like the shifting on the bed, nor him opening his arms for his sister’s six-year-old kid.
Cami’s ex wasn’t in the picture—much. He was a doctor, too. Evidently there wasn’t a prerequisite that doctors weren’t assholes. At least he provided for his son, but she complained the guy missed more visitations than he saw the boy.
Rowdy kinda wanted to beat his face in for that alone, not to mention the fact that Doc Asshole had cheated on his sister and crushed her heart.
Devon flashed a wide-awake smile and scrambled up to him. Snuggled close, resting his head on Rowdy’s shoulder.
He needed to go. Cami wasn’t the only one in danger.
Guilt was a constant that wouldn’t leave him be. But it was justified. If anything happened to either of them, it would kill him.
“What’s wrong, Dev?” Cami asked, rubbing her son’s arm.
“Nothin’. I needed Uncle Eric.”
Rowdy and Cami exchanged a look.
Annnnd more guilt took a chunk out of him. Right from his heart. Chewed on him and came back for more.
Rowdy was going to break the kid’s heart when he left, and by the looks of it, his sister’s, too. No amount of money in the world would fix it. But he’d rather have them hurt and pissed if it meant alive.
If Cami knew the danger of Carter Bennett, she’d probably kick his ass for bringing it to her home, but maybe not. She’d probably gra
b a pitchfork and fight, because he was her family, and growing up like they had…family meant the world to her. Was one of the many reasons his ass was in her guestroom in her modest apartment in Phoenix.
“Tell me a story, Uncle Eric!”
Rowdy looked down into the emerald eyes that sucked him right back to childhood. The kid in his arms might be a boy, but all he could see was Cami, and the first time she’d climbed on his lap with tears running down her cheeks. A four-year-old that didn’t understand why her mommy wasn’t coming for her.
Shit. I’m truly fucked.
“How about you go back to bed, little man?” Cami’s voice was wrapped in amusement. “It’s late, and I don’t want to hear you complainin’ when I wake you up early for school.” She made monster noises and tickled his tummy.
According to his sister, his little nephew was exceling in his kindergarten class.
Devon giggled and shook his head. “Noooooo, Mommy. I can’t go back to sleep without a story.”
Cami rolled her eyes and grinned when Rowdy caught her gaze.
To see her so happy stole his breath and made his chest ache for a reason other than finally healing bullet wounds.
“How about a short story?” Rowdy asked.
“Yay!” Devon pumped his little arm.
“Would that be all right, Mommy?” Rowdy asked, batting his eyes at his sister and going for innocence.
Cami snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I guess so.”
“Tell me a good one, Uncle Eric!”
Rowdy made some quick shit up about a little boy who could fly, but it worked. His sister laughed, Devon giggled, and soon his nephew was asleep in his arms.
Too bad the truth of watching them both, seeing their innocence, was killing him. He needed to get the hell gone, before he got them hurt…or worse.
He blew out a breath when Cami gathered her son to take him to his room, and dreaded the fact she’d said she’d be right back. It wasn’t like Rowdy could sneak out, but still…
“Hey,” she whispered, leaning on the doorframe to his room a few minutes later. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her head was cocked to one side.
“Hey,” he returned. He didn’t like the calculating look on her face.
“You’re great with Devon,” Cami said, closing the distance between them then taking her former seat on the bed.
“I had a lot of practice with this little girl I knew once.” Rowdy tugged on one of her kinky curls until she flashed a smile. Too bad it had a sad edge he didn’t like.
“My point is, I wish you’d stay. It’d be good for him to have you around.”
He snorted. “Right, like he needs a criminal in his life, around all the time.”
Cami frowned. “It’d be good for me, too.” This was barely a whisper, and made the guilt come right back up.
“Cami, you know I never flew straight.”
She sighed and broke their eye contact. “That doesn’t matter to me. It never has. And besides, it seems, whatever it was—” She held her hand up when he protested. “I’m not digging for info, just trying to make a point. It seems to me like that part of your life is over, because it ended badly.” She gestured to his side, the worse of his two wounds.
It’s going to be worse. Final. When Carter kills my ass. Rowdy couldn’t say that. He cleared his throat. “I am done with what I was doing, and who I was doing it for. But I don’t know anything else.”
“But you can.”
“Can what?”
Her green eyes were imploring. “Fly straight, as you put it. You came here, got away from it—them. Keep it that way, don’t go back. Put it all behind you, Eric. Make a life in Phoenix like I did. Get a job. I know people who have connections and don’t ask a lot of questions.”
He laughed. “I thought you wanted me to fly straight.”
She smacked his chest and mock-glared. “I’m not talking about anything illegal, ass. I mean a mechanic shop or something. You know your way around cars, you always have. I know a guy who knows a guy who has a shop where they supe them up, like racers or something. You know, like Fast and Furious stuff.”
Rowdy sighed. “Cami—”
“Please, Eric.”
He crushed his eyes shut and ordered his breathing to regulate. Lying to her was going to kill him, but he couldn’t promise her what she wanted. Not until Carter was out of the picture. Rowdy met her gaze when he had the balls to do so, and nodded. He couldn’t find his voice.
The smile that lit her face made him feel guilty as hell, but he didn’t look away, because she’d call him on his bullshit.
“Okay. I’ll call my friend in the morning, and see if his friend has a place for you. He kinda owes me one, so I’m sure it’ll work out. You can stay here until you’re on your feet and you can afford to get your own place. I’m gonna love having you around, and so is Devon!” Cami threw her arms around his neck and smacked a loud kiss on his cheek.
He didn’t correct her on the money issue. He had over four hundred thousand dollars in cold hard cash under the bed. Had been saving for years, not to mention he’d snatched Rick’s money when he’d fled Cali from Carter.
Rowdy swallowed hard and hid his face against his sister’s neck for a moment. Just held her, because he didn’t want her to catch on that he was lying his ass off to please her. She’d flay him open, not to mention how her disappointment would slay him.
Cami radiated hope and love, and smelled like sunshine.
I’m going to hell for sure.
When she pulled back, she patted his cheek. “I know you’ll tell me everything when you’re ready to talk, but this is a start, big brother, and I’m so happy. Tomorrow’s a new day.”
It sure is.
What his sister didn’t know, was that tomorrow, Rowdy would be gone.
Chapter Seven
Dread gripped her stomach and yanked it into a tight ball when Taylor saw the unfamiliar figure sitting in the chair in front of her boss’s desk.
Their deep voices melded as she approached the open door.
Relax. Breathe.
Matthias Baker, her boss of three years, looked up, making eye contact with her even before she stepped into his office.
“You wanted to see me?” Taylor cursed the croak in her voice and cleared her throat.
Instead of answering, Baker gestured for her to enter, since she continued to hover barely inside the doorframe.
She didn’t want to go in.
Her boss’s gaze was hard, and perhaps a little triumphant.
Taylor tried not to narrow her eyes. They would have words, later.
She did her best to plaster on a pleasant expression as the man in the chair stood when Baker did. She gave him a onceover. Young. Blond. Good-looking. Tall and broad. Build somewhere between swimmer and linebacker.
“Carrigan, meet Alec Holman, your new partner.”
The reason Baker had called her to his office had been obvious from the moment she’d spotted the younger man’s outline through the glass wall. Her gut twisted even more.
When the guy smiled, he looked twelve.
“Jesus. Fresh from Quantico?” She put out her hand to accept his offered shake and ignored the glare she could feel over her shoulder.
The kid’s smile fell. “No, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ‘ma’am.’”
“I’m sorry, ma—Agent Carrigan.” Her new partner blushed and shifted in his shiny black loafers. He wore dark pants not too different from her own. His shirt was a long-sleeved powder blue button-down, and his tie navy. He didn’t have a jacket on. At least his gun was holstered correctly at his waist.
Taylor smirked and crossed her arms over her chest.
“Carrigan.” Her name was all warning, but she ignored Baker when he came around from his desk and closed the door.
The dirty look he sent her way had Taylor squaring her shoulders and schooling her expression. She should probably try to play nice with the
kid, at least until they were released from Baker’s office.
“Holman’s a transfer,” Baker said, returning to his seat.
Holman sat, too, but Taylor hesitated, then decided to remain standing. She didn’t want to encourage a long chat.
She had work to do. A case to work. Carter Bennett to bag.
Taylor cleared her throat again and leveled her gaze on the new guy. His eyes were blue, a deep hue she should’ve found pleasant. Was her favorite color, after all. Instead, she was annoyed. “So, what kind of experience do you have?”
Her boss glared harder.
Taylor stopped herself from demanding what his problem was. Didn’t she have a right to know what her new partner had going for him?
She had to work with the kid, after all. Baker didn’t.
“I worked on the Special Investigations Task Force out of LA for two years. Born and raised in Dallas, so when the opportunity to work at home came up, I jumped on it.” His voice was deep, making him seem older than his appearance.
Bet your mommy is pleased.
“I’m looking forward to working with you.” He smiled again. Didn’t look any older than before.
Well that’s one of us.
Taylor forced a nod. “You know Eddie Vasquez?”
“Yes, I worked with him.”
She perked up. Maybe he knew something about her case that she didn’t. Maybe he could help.
Baker looked pleased. He leaned back in his chair, unusually silent as he watched them interact.
“I’m familiar with your case,” the kid went on. “Was undercover with Eddie’s main contact. A CI named Brandon Martinez, but everyone calls him Bubba.”
“Yeah, I know of him.” Taylor parked on the corner of her boss’s desk instead of sitting next to Holman. “Undercover, huh? What did you learn?”
“I didn’t find out where Rowdy Vargas is, if that’s what you’re digging for, but I was with them a few months. Didn’t run into Carter Bennett, just helped them hit a few car trains. Last I knew, Bubba doesn’t know where Vargas or Bennett are, or if they’re together.”