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We were definitely inside some kind of warehouse because there were boxes and barrels every few feet. I couldn’t see for shit, but I knew that because every fucking time I turned, I collided with something, which meant it took a long damn time before I got to a wall with a few windows. About fifteen feet above my six-foot-four frame.
“Fuck,” I muttered. I’d have to be a body builder to hoist myself up to that window. I just wanted to see where the hell that crazy Mexican had taken us.
“Gunnar!” Stitch’s voice came out in a harsh whisper that was barely audible across the expansive room. I couldn’t see him but I moved toward his voice, careful not to knock over anything or make any noise that would send those fuckers running in here.
“What did you find?” I asked when I finally reached him. He pointed up and followed the path of his finger to a window. It was only about six feet above us, but it couldn’t have been more than two feet wide and one foot thick which meant neither of us could fit through it. “Shit.”
“I know,” he shot back with frustration in his voice. “Just get your old ass up there and look outside.”
There was an urgency to his voice I’d never heard before. I knew before I hoisted myself up on the rickety desk and wiped away some of the dust that covered the window that whatever this place was, it wasn’t used regularly. At least this spot wasn’t because under my foot was a layer of dust that made it hard for my boots to grip.
The window was twice as filthy, but when I squinted my eyes to readjust to the lights outside, I froze. Right ac
ross the street was a strip mall with a laundromat, some kind of greasy spoon diner, a grocery store that was the only establishment without any lights and a lawyer’s office.
“It’s in fucking Spanish!”
“I know, I hear them talking.” Stitch said. “All Spanish with no hint of English,” he explained carefully like I was a goddamn idiot who needed to have things explained to me. “We must be somewhere in Mexico.”
Somewhere in Mexico. “Fucking Mexico.” That couldn’t be a good sign. There was only one reason I could think of why Carlito would bring us here. “We have to get the fuck out of here. Now.”
“Damn straight. That crazy fucker isn’t letting us leave here alive.”
The door slammed open again and then a familiar voice sounded. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
I’d fought in the government’s wars, did more tours than I ever wanted to fucking think about again and killed more men—and a few children—who were just like me, caught up in some rich man’s web of greed and power. But watching Carlito in that doorway, backlit with blinking fluorescent lights, I finally understood what people meant when they said pure evil.
Chapter Twelve – Golden Boy
“Fuck man, it feels good to get a win!” I shouldn’t have been as excited as I was but it felt damn good to take home, not just the top prize which was fifty grand but we’d also taken home the prize for most innovative techniques and design for some of the 3D designs Lasso had done for a few celebrities breezing through Vegas.
“Damn right it does,” Lasso whooped as he turned into my driveway and put the car in park. “Thirty-two G’s ain’t a bad haul for a week of work!”
I frowned. “Dammit Lasso, I told you that you’re keeping the fifteen thousand for yourself and don’t act like you can’t use it. The way you and Rocky go at it, she’ll be pregnant again in no time.” Whenever I called or stopped by, they were going at it or had just finished. Hell, they’d be making eyes at each other even before me and Teddy were gone.
“What can I say? My stamina is legendary and my wife can’t get enough of me.” He flashed his wide, cowboy grin before stepping out of the truck. “I can give you a few pointers if you’d like.”
“My man exceeds all expectations in the bedroom, thank you very much.” I smiled as I looked up and caught sight of my wife in her long-legged, curvaceous glory. Standing on the porch in a pair of denim shorts and a thin tank top that our daughter tugged on with her chubby little hands, revealing Teddy’s red lace bra that had my mouth watering. My cock twitched for her.
“Thanks babe, but I don’t need to prove shit to Lasso.” He barked out a laugh because the man was incapable of being offended. “He knows what a big strong man I am.”
Teddy arched an eyebrow in my direction, her lips twisted into a sexy little smirk I couldn’t wait to kiss. She’d just applied that shiny fruity shit I loved so much to her lips, like she was waiting for me to come home and kiss it off of her. “Does he now? Anything you want to tell me about what happened in LA?” Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. With joy and I knew, without a doubt, both were due to me.
I smiled and climbed another step, so we were eye to eye. “Yeah, but not while there are tiny ears around.”
“Daddy!” As my voice grew closer, it stirred our little girl in Teddy’s arms and she popped up with a wide baby-toothed grin.
“Hey, Princess. How’s Daddy’s little girl?” She giggled and squirmed in her mother’s arms, eager to get into mine where she could count on a few tosses into the air and a big fat raspberry on her little belly.
“Hi Daddy!” The sound of her laughter was what I lived for. It, more than anything, had revived me. Meeting Teddy had brought me back to life but Quinn, my beautiful little girl? She was what kept me going. Every morning I woke up and remembered how lucky I was to meet the fiery former model with balls of steel, and to have the greatest baby girl in the world.
“Did you miss me?”
Instead of answering, Quinn nodded hard and closed her eyes, puckering up for a kiss. “Sugar!” I gave her what she wanted but soon, too damn soon, she was distracted by the big blond cowboy at my side. “Cowboy!”
“Well hey there, sugar.” He winked, charming even the littlest of women and I didn’t even mind when she reached for him because it gave me a moment to greet my wife in peace.
“Hey babe.” I wrapped one arm around her waist and tugged her closer, inhaling her expensive floral scent. “You smell good.”
