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At least she hadn’t been lying about everything. She was a troubled soul. Had been in a lot of trouble over the years. He’d already known that, though, having had a background check run before they even exchanged words.
But he’d been her mark for far longer.
So the FBI was investigating him. Looking to take him down. No big surprise there. A man like him, doing what he did, always drew the law’s interest. That came with the territory. What really got him was that he hadn’t seen that angle, hadn’t even suspected.
“What have you told them so far?”
“Nothing. Except that you’re basically a steel vault.”
That was true. He didn’t let anyone get too close. He cycled out his employees like he did underwear, making sure no one learned his routine too closely, couldn’t pinpoint any part of his business or how he ran it. There would always be details left up to the imagination, holes to be filled that couldn’t be guessed at. Where most had already met their maker by his age, mystery had proven to be the key component of his longevity. That and pure cunning.
“So…” he started, stepping to the side to make his away around the desk toward her. “Was it worth the risk? Your freedom for mine?”
She gave him a pained look that, for once, he wasn’t sure how to read. Was she regretting her deception for his sake or hers?
“I never wanted to do it in the first place. I hated doing it after I got to know you though,” she confessed as if she really cared for him. If he wasn’t careful, he might actually believe her.
“Why?”
“Because I like you. A lot. More than I should. I…I think I’m falling for you, Manny.” If possible, her expression held even more regret now. Was loving him such a sin? An abominable thought that filled a person with self-loathing? He wanted to smack the look right off her deceitful face, but he couldn’t lift his voice much less a hand to her.
His hands shot out, and he grabbed her upper arms. “You lying little whore. You think you can come into my house and use me, investigate me, turn me over to the police, and expect me to just let you walk away?”
“It was a mistake! I’m so, so sorry, Manny. I wish I’d never agreed to any of this,” she cried, real tears escaping her eyes.I almost believe her. “You weren’t real to me then. I didn’t know I would feel like this. I didn’t know,” she blubbered, and he hated himself for feeling…anything for her right now.
There was a tightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in years. A sensation, as if he were falling from a cliff’s edge straight into a ravine—certain death.
Enraged with her and his own reaction to her tears, he shook her, shouting, “You ruin me! You ruin me!”
His hold on her loosened, and she collapsed into his arms, hugging herself to his chest as she sobbed into his shirt.
For once in his life, Manuel didn’t have a ready plan. He was adrift in the ocean, in a tailspin of doubt and confusion, because the emotions rolling through him now weren’t something he’d ever expected to feel again. Yet, just like the first time, he only felt their true, full weight at the exact moment it all went upside down.
But this time, the ship hadn’t sunk. It was listing, but he might be able to repair it…if he wanted to.
Slowly, Manuel’s arms came up to curl around Rena’s back, tightening down little by little until she was safely cocooned against him. That was the moment he knew he couldn’t stay mad, couldn’t regret anything that had to do with her. Couldn’t walk away, couldn’t let go.
His voice calmer, but no less strained, he said, “I think I know how to get us out of this.”
twenty-four
Blake “Quick” Mahone wasn’t feeling very quick. Tired was more apt a word for his emotional state.Of coursethere was another problem.Of courseit had to involve one of his men and his woman.Of coursethey all had to get involved, because that was what a brotherhood was for. But honest to God, would they ever reach a truly peaceful state of living, where they could go back to a simple life of watching out for one another and their families, as well as their community? Shit these days was off the hook and downright crazy. He needed a fucking break.
“So homeboy has possession of Moose’s girlfriend’s sister, and he wants us to go in there, guns not blazing, and, as civilized folk, request that the dude release the willing hostage, pack his shit, and get the hell out of Dodge before we break a toe off in his ass. Am I getting this right?” Repo asked, eyes swiveling around the table.
Within an hour of the call from Moose coming in, Blake had assembled the team and, at the ass crack of dawn, grouchy, red-eyed, and in various states of cleanliness, the lot of the Spartan men had shown up around the table for a brief church meeting to discuss the matter at hand, what Blake was calling: Operation Investigate the Latino.
“That’s the basics of it, yeah,” Moose agreed, hopeful.
Blake wasn’t convinced that the girl was in any real danger, seeing as she had apparently chosen to engage and involve herself with the guy, but she was family to a woman that his brother intended to claim for his own, so that meant everyone was involved because family was family was family, no matter how far removed. Right? Right.
So in they were going.
Blake sighed. There wasn’t enough booze in the entire state for a day like this.
“Then we’d better get packing and on the bikes,” he instructed. “I have a two o’clock at the dentist, and Gabby said if I don’t make it to this one, she’s getting the pliers out. I don’t think she was playing.” He grimaced, thinking of that woman and her threats. He’d like to say they were idle, but she was pregnant and a touch on the crazy side. She’d rip his teeth out in a heartbeat, then go after his balls for that whole vasectomy thing she kept talking about.
Jesus, no more kids. Three was enough for both of them. Once this kid popped out, he was driving himself to the doc for a little snip and clip.
