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Aspen gasped in shock as she fell to her knees beside Hector. When she lifted her head again, she had murder in her eyes—and her gun trained on Tessa while she glared his way. “Drop it or she’s as good as dead.”
“Stop,” Zy snapped, gun in hand as he barreled down on her.
“Always did think you were an asshole.”
Hector reared up and grabbed Zy’s ankle mid-stride, holding him back. Blood spread across the back of the bastard’s pants. Hate poured from his eyes.
Zy nearly stumbled as he tried to pull free, but Hector refused to let go.
Aspen waved her gun erratically. “Stop. Or I’ll kill all of you.”
Was the crazy bitch not grasping the situation? Both she and Hector were shot, and Cash was dead. He and Zy were armed, uninjured, and ready to fight—to the death if needed.
“No, you won’t,” Trees corrected her.
Aspen turned her venomous gaze his way. “Before I kill you, I’ll shoot your balls off for shooting my husband.”
“Your husband is a rapist,” Trees spat. “Let go, ‘Johnson.’”
It was a fitting name for this tool.
Predictably, Hector didn’t listen.
“Fuck you,” the asshole growled, lurching up for his wife’s gun.
“No. Fuck you.” Trees aimed, stared down the barrel, and looked right at Hector. “This is for Laila.”
Nothing felt better than pulling the trigger again, straight at Hector’s head, and watching his shocked expression freeze.
The bastard went limp, deader than dead.
Trees roared in revenge, with relief.
But he didn’t have time to celebrate before Aspen shot at Zy, plugging him in the arm. On his way down, his pal aimed and squeezed his trigger, hitting Aspen right between the eyes. Then Zy fell to the carpet, gun falling from his lax hand.
With a snarl, Trees kicked Hector’s body to make sure he was dead, then did the same to Aspen, as Tessa dropped to her knees, holding Hallie against her, and applied pressure to his best friend’s wound.
“Zy?” she sounded panicked.
He didn’t answer. Fuck, had Aspen actually hit something vital?
Trying to fucking stay calm, Trees dialed 911 and crouched beside Tessa, nudging her aside to look at the gunshot. Flesh wound. It wouldn’t be fatal, thank God. Had Zy fainted? If so, Trees would totally rib him about that later—as soon as he hugged the bastard.
“He’s going to be okay,” Trees promised Tessa. “You have your daughter back. It’s over.”
Tessa nodded, still looking terrified. He soothed her with a palm across her back.
But his thoughts turned to Laila. How would she react once he told her that Hector couldn’t hurt her—or anyone—again?
After a grim chat with the police about the gruesome scene at the mobile home and a wait in the ER with Zy, who seemingly had a mild concussion from his head hitting the table on his way to the floor, Trees drove for home. Along the way, he called Hunter, Logan, and Joaquin and advised the bosses that Hallie was safe again with Tessa. On Zy’s behalf, he also asked them why the fuck they had never once considered that their receptionist might be affected by the danger the team dealt with. Since the bosses admitted it had been an oversight, they agreed to provide her with a top-notch security system today.
That was the easy part of the conversation. The next part…Trees doubted would end well.
“Given what we found this morning, you understand that probably means Geraldo Montilla is keeping Kimber hostage?”
“Yeah,” Hunter said solemnly. “If Cash was in cahoots with Hector Ramos, who was one of Emilo’s boys, and they took Hallie for leverage, it stands to reason their enemy has Kimber.”
“Except…here’s what I don’t get,” Logan jumped in. “The note with the lipstick that Kimber’s kidnappers gave Dad as a warning? It seemed almost bitter about the fact Valeria escaped her husband. Why would Geraldo Montilla give a shit? Pride? Machismo? He’s probably full of those, but I don’t buy that he’d take this kind of action merely because someone hurt his little feelings. And sure, Jorge is his grandson, but it’s not as if ruthless drug lords are known for being family men. So why the hell does he want Valeria this bad?”
Trees hated to admit that Logan had a point. “We don’t have another theory, except that Geraldo has no family left, other than the boy.”
“As theories go, it’s thin.”
“Can you think of some other reason for Geraldo Montilla’s behavior?” Trees challenged. “I mean, maybe Emilo’s former goon squad splintered and started vying for power amongst themselves, rather than banding together to overthrow Geraldo, but…”
“That would be stupid and suicidal.” Logan sighed. “Then again, people have been known to be both.”
True, and Trees suddenly realized a way they might settle this point. “We haven’t made any progress in identifying the three dead bodies left in our parking lot yesterday. Have the police?”
“No. Most were either missing fingers or had their prints burned off. It’s going to take dental records. That takes time.”
