Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (60 page)

Arizona was in her blood and Parker was in her soul. This was the right choice for her. She’d been an idiot long enough.

The first time he and Parker played this song with a band and for an audience was during college, and over time, it grew into one of their go-to numbers because it rocked, had a catchy tune, and was a favorite of both sexes. Just the sort of thing any decent cover band had ready to go.

Fast forward to Angie’s high school graduation. Alex was stateside for a time and had retreated to Sedona—mostly to sleep and lay on a lounger by the pool. It was just by coincidence that he was around that June. Same for Parker, who by then was already up to his nose hairs in terrorism stuff.

Surprising his baby sister was no easy task since she had some sort of weird sixth sense where he and Parker were concerned. But for that occasion, they managed to pull off the mother of all surprises by showing up at her graduation party. In addition to simply being there, they cranked out a pretty kickass rendition of the song.
Coming of Age.
Huh. Seemed appropriate then and was a little like waving a red flag now.

Props to Angelina,
he thought proudly. She was truly a Marquez. Even if she was completely rattled, she’d never show it and certainly performed gamely enough, making quite a statement of her own with those boots and Meghan’s tambourine.

As the song ended, she came to the front of his kit, dropped the tambourine to the side, and
tsked
at him several times.

He answered with the big brother grin.

“Some brother you are,” she snarled gleefully.

The contradiction was pure little sister. He arched a brow and widened his grin.

“I don’t know, Alexander. Letting that old pervert,” she taunted with a barely concealed laugh, “take your little sister. How could you help him?” she wailed laughingly.

“Take?”
Yeah, right.
Laughing, he
tsked
right back. “More like
took
and zip that mouth, kid, before it gets you into trouble. Behave and do as you’re told.”

She stomped her foot and grunted, just like she did when she was six. He was sure as shit glad that Parker knew what a handful she was.

“I think your boyfriend wants you,” he quipped dryly. “Oh, and I hope you like Lady Antebellum.”

Angie’s head zipped in Parker’s direction at supersonic speed. Dude was smiling, only Alex knew the expression was more
Get your ass over here.
She must have known it too ‘cause she swaggered over to him, taking her place behind the microphone he indicated, and unless his lip-reading was woefully insufficient, said something along the lines of
bite my ass
with a dazzling Angel baby smile on her face.

Shit, this was fun.
Alex glanced in Meghan’s direction. She was also watching the interaction on stage with avid interest. Meeting his eye with an expression of loving amusement, she eye rolled and quirked a little grin. They were both relieved that Angie finally stopped running and was standing her ground.

About fucking time, too. He had a wedding and a fiancée to focus on.

“G
O EASY ON ME,” HE
joked into the microphone, his eyes trained on the stunning beauty sharing the stage with him. “This being my first time and all.” He snickered as whoops of delight greeted his declaration.

“That’s right! You heard me,” he growled at the audience. “I’m a virgin. Never done it in public with this pretty little girl before. Sing with her, I mean.”

Angie crossed her arms and cocked a hip at him mockingly. “Give it a rest!” she quipped with a bit too much glee. Pointing at him, she wagged her head like a know-it-all and proclaimed him, “The Almost Forty-Year-Old Virgin.”

Desert Angel easily got everyone laughing with her dry, sarcastic delivery. The tits, short dress, and thigh-high boots helped. Everyone was watching. She was roped in and knew it. This was almost more public than jumbotron kissing at the sports arena. No turning back now.

Running his fingers across the strings of his guitar, he nodded to Dave, his bass player, and Dave’s wife, who was doing keyboards, ‘cause no way could they do this song right without them. Then he gave a quick glance to Alex. This was it.

Let’s see what she does,
he thought on a deep inhale
.
Saying a quick, silent prayer that this was the right thing to do, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“Angel girl, I need you now.”

It was a statement first and a song title second.

“And,” she murmured softly, “I can’t fight you anymore.”

How long did it take to sing that song? He didn’t know. Not long enough. Not nearly. They’d harmonized together in their younger days hundreds of times but never like this, in public with an audience.

Parker picked this song for a reason. Besides the haunting melody, he liked the lyrics. They said everything he couldn’t. And she wasn’t fighting him anymore. If there weren’t several hundred eyeballs watching them right now, she’d be naked and underneath him instead of just beyond his reach.

But make no mistake about it, she was making her feelings abundantly clear anyway. Angie sang from the heart. Every sway, every movement, each breath was loaded with emotion. Her eyes never looked away and on the harmonies, she shared his mic. It felt uncommonly intimate even with so many watching.

He’d be so fucking lost without music in his life. It was his drug of choice. The magic they were creating as they sang to each other felt effortless, almost trancelike. As if they’d been singing to each other forever. And maybe they had.

When the song was ending, Parker felt a wave of emotion wash over that almost wrecked him. He’d loved this girl from the first time they locked eyes. What had she said? That she’d waited forever to be old enough for him?
Jesus Christ.
He wanted to cry.

When the final notes faded, all he wanted to do was drag her somewhere private and kiss her silly. She was certainly looking at him like her thoughts were running along the same lines. Fuck it if Alex didn’t pull the plug on such insanity by pounding out a count on his sticks and immediately ripping into their closing number.

Angie laughed when Dave leaned over and told her what they were playing and dashed for the tambourine. Another duet with some country style harmonies, they rocked out singing about going home and being a rolling stone. Bon Jovi was compulsory for any rock band worthy of an electric amp, and just like with the Lady Antebellum song, this one was tailor-made for him and Desert Angel.

Alex got in on the rowdy vocals and right away it turned into a joyful musical interlude for the three of them. Parker would remember this for a long time. It was good stuff. The shit you made room for in your memory.

When they were finished, what was left of the crowd was enthusiastically appreciative. Especially after Alex announced that the next round was on him. Nothing like causing a stampede for the fucking bar!

In a way it was good that everyone except Team Justice was distracted elsewhere because in one of those slow motion
are you fucking kidding
moments, Mr. Spanish Shiny Pants leapt onto the stage making a straight line directly at him. Parker saw him coming and decided not to do a fucking thing.
Piss ant motherfucker.
He shit turds with more character than this annoying bitch.

When the little prick swung, he was reminded of the cartoons where the puny loser tried to mow down a muscle-bound Goliath and struggled not to collapse laughing.

In his peripheral vision, he saw dumbfounded expressions on Cam and Drae’s faces and figured they must have gotten caught flat-footed when Aldoriffic bolted from their custody.
Well, at least there were eyewitnesses,
the lawyer in him noted.

The other thing his eyes caught was Barry the Barkeep’s beefy hand shooting out to stop the bouncer from coming over. Good man. He knew what was going down was a private matter. A Justice matter. No interference necessary

Now, to be honest, he grudgingly admitted—the punch pussy boy threw was fairly effective. And it would have been ten times more effective if Parker didn’t have about five inches and several layers more brawn and pure muscle than his challenger. But the puny fucker did put his heart into it, no matter how laughable the effort so he had to give the dude
some
credit.

As he swung, Esperanza shouted something in Spanish most of which went right over Parker’s head, but he most definitely picked out the word
grandpa.

Why, that little fuck. Was there a particular noise right before shit started hitting the fan? Seemed like maybe there was, this time anyway, because, all of a sudden, several layers of grunts, growls, and barking yelps rang out. And
then
the yelling started.

Angie went nuts, shrieked and actually jumped on pussy boy’s back, beating his shoulders. “Are you insane?” Her screams were shrill and furious sounding.

Okay. Come on. Seeing her, dressed as she was, literally brow beating this guy’s ass was entertaining as fuck. He probably shouldn’t have laughed. But he did.

His mocking laughter enraged Esperanza, who had yet to shake Angie off.

Alex appeared in their midst like he’d transported via some hi-tech nerd teleportation gadget and started threatening the dumbass if he didn’t take his hands off his sister.

Aw, man. This shit was classic home video gold!
Why wasn’t anyone shooting it? YouTube was being robbed if you asked him.

Next thing he knew, little Tori in her outrageous barely-there short shorts materialized, also out of nowhere, and ran across the stage to peel Angie off the guy she was now clearly assaulting. Fuck. This was getting funnier by the second.

“Don’t you
ever
touch him,” Angie screamed as she pummeled his head.

Well, this was certainly interesting and a spot he’d never been in before. Considering that the punch that started all this barely left a red mark, her frenzied defense of him really struck Parker as downright fucking adorable. It wasn’t like anyone doubted he could have put that fucker in the back of an ambulance with one hit, so her coming to his aid as his avenging angel . . . how could this possibly work out any better for him?

Shiny Pants wailed like a little girl, “What is wrong with you, Angelina? How can you let this man use you like this?”

Tori finally managed to get Angie on her feet again and was physically restraining her from going in for round two.

“Use me?” Angie barked. “Ha! That’s funny coming from you. Wasn’t using me and my family name what our engagement was all about? Be honest, Aldo. For god’s sake—what the hell is wrong with you?”

Parker loved this part. He’d been on the receiving end of the sort of fire she was spewing and knew all too well how uncomfortable it was. Bitch better be wearing an asbestos suit if he hoped to survive without third-degree burns.

“This is my home. My family. My friends. I don’t want you here. Go back to Madrid, Aldo. Stop pretending we had a relationship. We didn’t.”

Alex, who seemed to have grown and looked to be about eight feet in height of angry, menacing badass took Angie by the hand and pulled her beside him. Snarling in a voice that was intended to intimidate, he added his two cents.

“I’ve now heard my sister tell you several times to buzz the fuck off. She does not want you here. What part of that exactly do you not understand? Need a translator? Let me know, ‘cause I’m done playing nice.”

Tweedledee and Tweedledum growled.

“Don’t fuck with Justice,” Draegyn drawled darkly. “It won’t end well if you do.”

And then Meghan did something that blew Parker’s mind. With Lacey playing the sidekick, the ball-busting redhead stepped into the upheaval and effectively stopped everyone in mid-motion.

In her most ladylike tone, she stated, “I’m sorry, Mr. Esperanza, but Family Justice is by invitation only and yours, I’m afraid, has been permanently lost in the mail.”

Was this what was meant by—you could hear a pin drop it was so silent?

Parker understood why Alex had such a soft spot for Lacey. She defined sweetness but had a tough inner core that took no prisoners. Woe to anyone who thought the freckles and cute face meant she was an airhead. Lady had balls.
Big ‘uns.