Saving Bonnie: A Dark Mafia Romance (Blood Ties Book 2)

by Sahara Roberts

  “Ay guey.” One of the guys utters while a couple elbow one another before taking off. Meanwhile, Robalo pulls latex gloves from a pocket of his cargo pants.

  “Shit-shit-shit,” Saul continues in a chant. He’s obviously expecting the worst, and damn if I’m not starting to enjoy this.

  I put the money away before handing off the gun to Robalo, who proceeds to empty it out. He gives Saul a thorough inspection, confiscating all the ammo he’s carrying. Taking a handkerchief, he wipes the weapon and holsters it on him then disappears into the night.

  I tighten my hold on Saul’s forearm, adding pressure. “Settle down.” His answering grunt tells me I have his attention. “If you take in any of those men, they have instructions to report you being given a substantial bribe.”

  The guy stops moving. Though he’s still on his knees, turned away from me, I can almost see the thoughts going through his head. “Apart from an investigation, every partner you have will wonder if you’re dirty.” I let him stew.

  “What do you want?” he asks in a tight voice.

  Satisfaction rolls through me. It didn’t take much to have him buckle. “Bonnie Bustos.”

  “What?” he balks. “I’m not gonna let you hurt her.” His voice finally lost the note of weakness.

  I slow my breathing, taking control before my temper comes into play. “The only one looking to get hurt is you, if you don’t tell me about her.”

  “What-what are you looking for?” He shakes his head. “I haven’t talked to her in months.”

  I clench my teeth, knowing the bastard is lying. I push him forward, giving him a taste of West Texas dirt. “You telling me if I check your phone, I won’t find a call from her?”

  He turns his face, spitting. The air around us grows heavier as I wait for his answer. I nudge his arm, knowing I’m pulling at his shoulder muscles. “Ow-ahhh,” he complains. “She called me, man.” He goes from zero to frantic as I add pressure behind his elbow.

  “And?”

  “I didn’t call her back,” he admits. I release some of the tension in his arm. “I didn’t...I didn’t talk to her,” he says with a layer of guilt on the end of the sentence.

  “Why?”

  A sharp whistle cuts the air. We’re out of time, and this asshole hasn’t come clean. I crank up the tension, ready to start on the joints.

  “I had...stuff happening and couldn’t deal with her right now.”

  Something shifts in my gut. This was supposed to be a stress reliever for me, but anger is starting to take the lead. I’m not sure what pisses me off more. The fact he lied to me. That he defended her then made her sound like she’s a nuisance. Or that he once had the right to touch her.

  “That why you stole from her?”

  He jerks his head. “What? I didn’t steal—” His voice drops off, and a split second later his shoulders droop. “Crap.”

  I frown as precious seconds tick away. “I’m waiting.”

  Saul drags his chin up, turning awkwardly to check in the direction his partner would have chased the group. He releases a breath. “I got robbed a couple of weeks ago,” he admits reluctantly. “They wiped me out. Bank, credit cards, 401K.” He pauses. “I didn’t know they got to her, too.”

  Although he sounds contrite, I won’t take him at his word. “You don’t want to lie to me.” I give his arm a painful twist.

  “Ah! I’m not. I’m not.” He checks the darkness again. “I didn’t report it.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m trying to transfer to an office job. Being in the field…” He shakes his head, defeated. “I can’t do this.”

  I loosen my hold on his arm, letting him go on.

  “Having them find out, before I move, would put everything on hold. So, I borrowed some money from my parents, and I’ll be living on ramen for the next month.”

  His voice has the ring of truth to it. He’s right. Having the government know how easily someone can get to him will stall his career. It would make him seem susceptible to bribery or threat.

  “I lost everything, my girlfriend included. She got hit, too, and had to move back with her folks. Now she won’t take my calls.”

  If the son of a bitch expects me to have a shred of sympathy, he’s fucked.

  “I should have called her...Bonnie.”

  “You should have,” I agree. Though everything inside me is screaming that I don’t want him near her. His saving grace is her name. He didn’t use Bunny. Still, he has shit he needs to fix.

  “Breaking up with her...it wasn’t easy.”

  I don’t want to think about him and the woman who couldn’t deal with me.

  “The job won, man,” he adds, defeated. “She was never going to leave that place. And I don’t want to stay in Laredo for the rest of my life.”

  The guy doesn’t understand heritage. Tradition. Family ties. She was right to cut him loose. That doesn’t mean he shouldn’t make things right.

  “Deal with your shit,” I say, releasing him. “And if you follow, you won’t have to worry about the boss finding out what happened.”

  I turn on a heel, heading to the bank. Half my attention is still on this jerk-off, hoping he’ll do something stupid. Meanwhile, I work to swallow the bitter truth. I’ll have to bring in Kassy.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Bonnie

  “Sign here, please.” The guy from the overnight service hands me an electronic pad.

  Frowning, I double-check the label on the box, but it’s clearly addressed to me. Satisfied, I scrawl my name within the square and return the pad with confusion.

  “Thank you.” The guy, who’s vaguely familiar, offers a tight smile before he turns to head out the door.

  Curious, I tear into the package, to find another box. This one has a smooth finish in a rich burgundy with an embossed S nestled in gold filigree.

  My heart beats stronger as I peek under the lid, inhaling a subtle fragrance. A nearly transparent sheet of paper sits atop layers of gold and burgundy tissue paper.

  Too eager to wait, I uncover a corner to find soft, green material and gasp. I recognize what it is and close the box, shielding the contents from prying eyes.

  White and green, with lace. The exact text I sent Tino.

  My first instinct is to look at the camera. Is he watching? Although I wouldn’t put it past him to be aware I received his package, somehow I’m sure he’s not watching.

  The phone rings. My pulse races. I can’t walk away without knowing. I skim through the flowing script, picking up keywords as I absently approach the phone.

  Custom. Imported silk. Handmade to your specifications. Laundered. Pleasure. And a discrete footnote warning the items aren’t edible.

  My face flames.

  Mom grabs the receiver before I can lift a hand. “What have you got there?”

  “Nothing.” I immediately bring the paper to my chest, like a schoolgirl caught sighing over her secret crush.

  Mom gives me an eye roll, lifting the receiver. “Bomberos.”

  Reaching back, I snatch the box off the counter then slip by her, untying my apron. “Be right back,” I announce to Manny and MJ on my way through.

  I’m about to turn the doorknob when I stop. Breathe. Pull yourself together then you can go in, past the eye in the sky. Easier said than done, but a few deep breaths later, I let myself in with as much dignity as I can muster.

  Step. Step. Step. Step. Step. The stairway has never seemed longer. Finally, I’m standing on the landing. Seven, seven, five, nine. The lock engages, and I’m in the door. I’m dashing through the apartment, my fingers on the box. If I pull up, I could scratch the box with these nails. So I wait, removing my apron as I get closer to the bedroom.

  Going through the ritual once more, I open the box, pulling away the tissue paper, and find three gorgeous garments.

  Forest green, pearl, and a shade of green much like the tulip stems on the pictures around me. They’re layered with delicate lace and a tiny
bow where the thong comes together at the back.

  Tino.

  This isn’t some kind of apology; I’d be foolish to think so. For a custom order, he must have ordered the day I sent the message.

  Still, my eyes burn, and my throat is clogged with a feeling I can’t bring myself to accept. This is just a business deal. Nothing personal. Don’t be an idiot.

  Yet here I am, reaching for the button at my waist. I step into the panties, bringing them to my waist. While I’m not a fan of thongs, this looks fantastic on me. I’m ultra-sensitive to the shorts settling against my bare skin. This feels like Tino cupping me between my legs.

  I shake free of the thought and head downstairs, feeling lighter than I have in days. I’m closing the kitchen door when Rick’s delivery truck comes into the drive. An odd sensation settles at the base of my spine. Because of the thong? Technically, he’d be the first one to see my ass, though I’m well covered in modest shorts I can wear at work. I chuckle to myself.

  “Soooo,” Mom coaxes, expecting a rundown on the delivery.

  “Air fresheners,” I toss over my shoulder then head straight to the sink to wash up. We’ve had a simple truce on asking questions. All I told her was Tino’s not here right now. Surprisingly, she didn’t push. Maybe because she’d open the door for me to ask for more details about my father. The truck stops in front of the window. Rick goes around opening the back. “Let me open the door for Rick.”

  “Grab what the guy brings over,” Manny instructs MJ.

  “I got it, ma’am.” For all of seventeen years old, MJ’s a hard worker, quiet and willing to take on any task.

  “Thanks.” I grab my apron and pull it over my head. This is as close to normal as we’ve been in nearly three weeks. I’m getting my footing again.

  “Oh, hey.” Rick’s voice comes from the entrance, unsure.

  “Stack the boxes in the storage room,” Manny suggests. “We’ll put everything away as soon as we have a few minutes.”

  Rick cranes his neck to see around MJ. He sends me another of those killer smiles. “Hey, Bonnie.”

  “Hi there.” After returning his greeting, I head to the tea maker to fill a pitcher.

  “Well.” Mom comes to lean against the wall. “Whooo is Rick?”

  “He brings in the deliveries from Nuevo Laredo.”

  “Deliveries…that’s it?” she asks with a hopeful note.

  “Mhmm.”

  “Oh.” The note of disappointment is unmistakable. “Well, you’ve done better.” She sniffs.

  Rick comes in behind us.

  “Hi, I’m Rachel.” Despite everything, Mom doesn’t advertise she has a daughter my age. “Can I help you?” she asks, switching to running interference.

  I glance over my shoulder to find him giving her his signature smile. “I wanted to talk to Bonnie.”

  “All right.” She turns to me, placing a hand under the pitcher. “How about I take over for you.”

  “Um, thanks, Mom,” I add, to poke at her. Handing off the pitcher, I turn to Rick.

  “Hey,” he says, anticipation rolling off him. “I got those carrots you wanted.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I’d nearly forgotten about ordering them. And with me wearing my new gift, I have to fight the blush trying to cover my cheeks. He doesn’t know what the carrots signify or the fact my bare ass is against the shorts. “MJ can take them.”

  He scrutinizes me for a few seconds then, like flipping a switch, he changes tactics. “If you don’t need them right-right now, I have a guy who’s short.” He sticks his hand in his pocket, shifting his weight. “We had some slowdown on products coming north. There’s flooding in certain areas with this storm.”

  “Go ahead,” I reply, keeping things as professional as possible. “I think we’ll be okay if someone else needs them today.”

  He nods slowly, possibly understanding I’m not up for anything else.

  *****

  Conrado

  We’re taking down a high-level boss when the phone rings. Running the controller with one hand, I answer the call. “Yo.”

  “Where’s my money?” The question comes across bitter and demanding.

  Ugh. “Don’t sweat it, man,” I say, jamming the button.

  “What happened?” Iz puts the game on hold and starts to freak. “I can hear him all the way over here.”

  I wave him off, running my fingers across my neck for him to stop. Damn. Boy’s gotta get the point sometime.

  “Conrado, I talked to Sergio,” Rick says, all pissed. “He told me what happened.”

  Fucking Sergio. Why’s he getting all up in my business? “‘Eyyy, I got things under control.”

  “You lost the package.” He rolls it out like it’s the end of the world.

  “Whoa, hold on. I wasn’t anywhere near the delivery. Sergio’s the one who fucked up, not me.” I’m not taking the fall because he couldn’t keep to the plan. I’m the victim here. Every other shipment went through. But the one that was gonna bring me cash is lost.

  “I don’t care who lost it,” he says, like the words are coming from between clenched teeth. “You know exactly who runs this outfit. I’m not putting my ass on the line for you.”

  Iz’s eyes are bugging out. I’m not gonna let this asshole disrespect me in front of my boy.

  “Nah, but you put your ass on the line when you were boning his bitch,” I remind him.

  Rick goes quiet. “She’s none of your—”

  I use a high voice, pretending to be the chick he was with. “Yeah. Right there, baby. Ah. Ah.” I double over, nearly losing it. I saw the whole thing, and I was ready to give it a like. “You got some moves, boy.” I try to catch my breath, still laughing. “But then she got some su-preme pussy.”

  “Fuck you,” he spits, adding all the pissiness to each word.

  “If you don’t want the video to go viral, you gotta work with me here.”

  “She wasn’t with him back then.” There he goes again.

  He can keep saying so all he wants. Nobody cares. “Yeah, yeah. Whatev.” He’s not focusing on the important shit.

  “Damn bitch,” he growls, “had no business—”

  “This is between you and me.” I set him right. “My ma has nothing to do with shit.”

  “Olga has everything to do with this,” he counters, angrily. “She’s going to get me killed.”

  “You’re the one who can’t keep it in your pants.”

  “He won’t care if she’s fucking another guy, dude.” Now Rick’s getting all uppity. “But when he finds out how much of his stuff is lost, things are going to get bloody.”

  Ma said the same thing then stuck me here. “Well, you’re gonna have a big problem.”

  “I never should have given in to Olga.” The regretful tone signals the perfect opportunity.

  I can’t help but grin at Iz while I set Rick up. “Well, what do we do now?”

  “You God damn son of a bitch.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Now put together a plan.” I love being able to yank his chain and have him do shit for me.

  “Fuck.” His breathing hits the phone, echoing in my ear. I got him. “I’ll work on the problem. Just get your ass to the warehouse after everyone’s gone. I brought Sergio in to help. He’ll be waiting.”

  I roll my eyes, but it’s a chance to get out of here. Being stuck in this house, in the middle of nowhere, blows.

  “Don’t make me call your mommy, dude,” Rick taunts.

  The dig is a cold stream down my back.

  “What happened? Why are you making a face?” Iz taps his knuckles on the side of my knee.

  I yank my leg away, batting at his hand.

  “That’s right,” Rick says. “Bring your bud because, if this goes south, both your asses are on the line, along with mine.” He ends the call with that warning.

  What a fuckin’ buzzkill.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Tino

  I shove my hands in my pockets as I stare o
ut the window of the top-floor luxury apartment. Missy certainly takes care of herself. All on the backs of the people she rips off.

  Much as I hate to admit it, she’s good, very good. Her closets are packed with clothes in five different sizes. Either her weight fluctuated, or she padded herself to change her appearance. Hats, wigs, dark glasses, and shoes with inserts to vary her height. Smart.

  If she hadn’t managed to piss me off so much, I’d talk to Dante about checking her background, in case her services could be used.

  A key slides into the lock, flipping the bolt before she pushes the door open. Bags rustle while I center myself, preparing for the confrontation. I’m not concerned. There’s nothing she could do to me I haven’t gone through before. One, two, three, four, five, six… Sure footsteps on narrow high heels echo in the hallway, slowing when she reaches the end of the hall.

  Let the games begin.

  “W-W-Who are you?” she asks, voice quivering.

  I’ve got her. I don’t even have to turn around to know it. Somehow, I’m disappointed. After I’ve had to chase her ass down, I expected more. Could it be she didn’t expect anyone to ever find her? That, above anything else, would be an amateur move.

  “What do you want?” Her stress level has spiked, and so has the pitch in her voice.

  Fine, we’ll play it her way.

  I glance over my shoulder at her without saying a word. Her arms are full of shopping bags, the logos showing the high-end stores she frequents. A stab of anger cuts through me. She’s spending money on clothes while at least one of her victims, who busted her ass to earn the money, is worried about her people’s future—even more than her own.

  Missy sets her purse on the rectangular table, letting the shopping bags slide to the floor at her feet.

  “You need to leave, or I’m going to scream my head off,” she threatens, shoulders stiffening.

  “You took something you shouldn’t have,” I point out, putting a hard edge to my voice so she knows I’m not up for her little act. “I’m here to get it back.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asks, affronted.