Snow Blind-J Collins 4 (43 page)

“Have you ever known me to throw out a mercy compliment?” Kim laughed. “Just so you don’t think I’ve gone too nice, you definitely need a haircut, girlfriend.” She gasped softly.

“What? You okay?”

Instead of answering, she grabbed my hand and placed it on the front swell of her stomach. “Feel that?”

I waited. Then something booted my palm. Hard.

My hand snapped back. “Holy shit.”

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Kim snagged my hand and put it back on her baby bump. “Isn’t that wild?”

“Freakishly bizarre.” I poked her stomach. The skin was taut, not squishy. “What’s it feel like from the inside?”

“Hard to explain. I’m gonna ask you the same question when you’re pregnant.”

And things’d been going so well. “Will you retract the BFF statement if I tell you I don’t want to have kids? Ever.”

“No. But you don’t know—”

“Yes, actually I do.”

“You and Tony have discussed it?”

I couldn’t tell her about Tony’s son or the regret he carried about giving him up to the boy’s mother.

I didn’t want to talk about my miscarriage or why it seemed every child in my life broke my heart. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning we’ve chosen this lifestyle. Neither of us wants to subject a child to it.” I softened my tone.

“Being with Martinez is more happiness than I thought I’d ever find, Kim, and that’s enough for me.”

“It should be. Okay, okay, sorry. I’ll stop trying to push my life off on you.” She drew my hand across her belly as the kicks grew more intense. “She is gonna be a great soccer player.”

“Or he’s gonna be an excellent kickboxer.”

“She for sure. We found out last week it’s a girl.”

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I grinned. “I am so happy for you.”

“That, I never doubted. So . . . come to Vegas?

Please? I want you to stand up there with me when I get hitched.”

“Just as long as you were kidding about the ugly dress.”

“Nope. It’s lilac satin with pink ruffles and bows, yellow lace, and a matching parasol. Ooh, and satin pumps with itty-bitty rose buds glued on. Dyed lilac, naturally.”

“Naturally.”

Kim sat up. “I don’t care what you wear. Just as long as it’s not black. Or white. Have Tony pick something out for you. He has good taste.”

“In all things,” he said from the doorway.

I jumped.

“Did you get Brittney home okay?” Kim asked.

“You took her home? Personally?”

He nodded.

“Call me if you need anything, Jules.” She whirled on Tony and chattered a Spanish phrase that made him grin.

After Kim left, he closed the door. “Before you chew my ass, let me say it was time I met your father.”

I didn’t ask him what he thought of Doug Collins, because I didn’t want to know. “Is he still alive?”

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“What did you do?”

“Honestly? Nothing. I imagined a lot of painful 453

things I could do. But unless he lays a hand on you now, I don’t give two shits about him.” Those black eyes bored into me. “I heard what Brittney said.”

“All of it?”

“Yes. I’ve seen you struggling with this relationship with her in the last few months. Obviously, any continued contact with your family is your choice, Julie, but I’m not gonna pretend I understand why you’d want it.”

“Me either.”

“So, what now?”

“Now I say thank you.”

“For?”

“Saving me.”

Martinez shook his head. “Like I told the doc.

You saved yourself yesterday.”

“I’m not talking about yesterday, Tony. I’m talking about every other day since we’ve been together.

Being with you has saved me.”

We stared at each other, aware another boundary between us had disappeared.

He softly said, “Same goes.” Then he locked the door and came to bed.

454

Then next morning I complained, “Why don’t I get to choose?”

Martinez sighed. “Because I know who you’ll pick.”

I batted my eyelashes at him. “But, sugar-sweetie-pie-honey-bun, you know I’d choose you every time.”

No-neck, Cal (God, I had to stop calling him No-neck), and Buzz grinned. Their mirth disappeared the second bossman glared at them.

“No, you’ll pick Big Mike. Since the two of you decided to handle things without my consent, or approval, you know you can get around him, and that ain’t happening again.”

Big Mike glanced at me from beneath blackened eyes. The balloonish swells on his face deflated some, although his mouth was still puffy, like a Botox 455

experiment gone awry.

I didn’t break eye contact. It was the least I could do; acknowledge his sacrifice, since he’d borne the pain of our joint decision to circumvent Tony.

When Martinez discovered Big Mike’s idea to smoke out Jackal, my solo excursion with Nyla, and the fact we’d kept our nefarious plans a secret from the all-powerful El Presidente . . . well, El Presidente blustered into
El Niño
and showed his wrath big time. With his fists. The other Hombres security goons did nothing to stop it; Big Mike did nothing to defend himself.

I hadn’t known about the disciplinary act until after the fact. I wouldn’t have interfered because Big Mike had chosen the Hombres lifestyle. He knew the penal-ty for disobeying a direct order. The other bodyguards considered Big Mike’s punishment fair. Just. Swift.

Big Mike aimed his focus on Martinez. “With all due respect, sir, I’m probably the first one you should trust with Miz Collins’s safety since I have the most to lose if anything happens to her.”

Martinez leveled a tough guy glower on all three men. “True. But I’m giving the headache to Buzz today.”

I opened my mouth to protest the
headache
moni-ker, but it snapped shut when Tony growled, “Out,”

and everyone scattered.

He stalked me, and damn if I didn’t retreat until my back hit the wall. “Quit bullying me.”

“I haven’t even started bullying you, so don’t 456

fucking push me. Three rules today, in order for you to walk out of this house with Jackal still on the loose.

One—You will not go anywhere without Buzz. Two—

You will listen to Buzz. Three—You will not ditch Buzz. If you break any of these three simple rules, I will lock you upstairs in Bare Assets and leave your buddy Charity as your caretaker. Is that clear?”

“You are a cold, mean bastard, Martinez.”

“And your point is?”

I looked down at my hands. “Does Kevin know?”

“That I’ve assigned you a temporary bodyguard?

Yes. Specifically why? No.” His warm fingers lifted my chin. “He knows I’ll go to extremes to keep you safe.

Once Jackal is gone, things will return to normal.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. Sure you’re up to going into the office today?”

“I have to do something . . . normal.”

“I understand. At least Buzz won’t bitch about the music in your truck. He loves that caterwauling crap you’ve been listening to lately.”

“If you’re done insulting me, can I go?”

He gifted me with a steamy tie-my-insides-in-knots grin. “Uh huh. Just as soon as you say it.”

“Sadistic fucker.”

“Such a sweet talker.” Martinez nuzzled my ear and whispered, “You know what I want.”

Perverse of me to withhold it? Yes. But dammit, I liked that he was as greedy to hear it from me, as I was 457

to hear it from him.

“I’m waiting, blondie.”

“Fine. I love you, okay?”

“Mmm.” His teeth nipped my earlobe and he backed off.

“Forgetting something?”

“Fine.
Te amo
, okay?”

“That wasn’t I love you.”

“Yes, it was. As heartfelt as you said to me.” He kissed my forehead. “Later.” And he was gone.

Buzz let me drive. He wasn’t chatty, but he wasn’t as scary/stoic as Bucket. He didn’t bitch when I sang along to
Crazy Ex-Girlfriend
.

I wondered if he’d just sit in the reception area all day staring into space. Or if he’d brought a book. Or guns to clean. Or knives to sharpen.

Kevin gave Buzz a once-over before beckoning me in his office. He even shut the door. I was really in for it.

I moved to the comfy chairs across from the desk, but Kevin stopped me cold.

He whispered, “I want to know every fucking thing that’s going on, right now. You may have loyalties to Martinez, but you also have loyalties to
me
.

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And if you don’t think you can trust me, Jules, when we’ve been friends since we were twelve, then walk out that fucking door and don’t come back.”

Kevin’s ultimatum pissed me off, yet I knew he was right. So I gave him the abbreviated version of my current saga.

Afterward, he paced. When he stopped and faced me, I recognized his hard expression, and I braced myself for another make-or-break moment in another relationship in my life.

“Is this the life you want, Jules? A bodyguard?

People gunning for you because you’re with him?”

“I know you don’t understand—”

“I don’t. Not at all.” Kevin’s hands cupped my shoulders. “What about down the road? Will you be swilling tequila in a biker bar, dodging bullets and rival drug dealers in ten years? Twenty? Don’t you want a family? Kids?”

“And a house with a picket fence, a nine-to-five job, a husband puttering around on weekends? No.

I’d make a lousy fucking parent, Kev, and not just because of my childhood traumas. I don’t want the life everyone else leads. Not because I’m cool, or a rebel, but because I
like
the way I live. I like my job and my friends. I’ve done some stupid things, some dangerous things, made some serious mistakes, but falling in love with Tony Martinez was not one of them.”

“You deserve better.”

Count to ten. To twenty. To one hundred. As high as
459

it takes to stay calm and keep this in perspective.

“I’m gonna say this one time. He is a permanent part of my life. Period. If you can’t handle that, then I will leave. But don’t make me choose. Please. Don’t make me choose.”

Those thoughtful green eyes bored into me: heart, body, and soul. A lump lodged in my throat when I considered I might not be the type of friend or business partner he wanted anymore. I understood, even when I wished I didn’t.

We stared at each other for a long time.

Then Kevin used the charming grin that’d won me over in Mrs. Swigart’s seventh grade English class.

“It sort of sucks.”

“What?”

“That I’m jealous as hell. You’ve found a man who takes you as you are, on your terms. Much as I love you, Jules, and harbored this crazy idea you and I would eventually end up together?” He shook his head. “I’d try to change you. Hell, I try to do it right now—even when you don’t need it. And you, my friend, have always deserved better.” He kissed my forehead. “Now get your ass to work and file something.”

I turned away so he didn’t see the moisture in my eyes.

460

There really wasn’t much for me to do. I hid in my office and smoked, trying to piece together my recent life events.

My father had either helped commit murder or covered it up.

What purpose would jail time serve for him or DJ? Besides to allow Melvin Canter’s actions to ruin yet another family? I vehemently disagreed with Dad’s reasoning and willingness to sacrifice Brittney’s emotional well-being to save DJ’s, but he was a hundred percent correct that if he went to jail, Trish and the kids would lose the ranch.

Truth was, Melvin Canter was a piece of human filth. The world was better off without him because the justice system hadn’t worked—numerous times.

So, once again, I was dealing with issues of vigilante justice. Once again, I was turning a blind eye to the outcome. And I’d become well versed in keeping secrets about orchestrated endings: Bobby Adair.

Maurice Ashcroft.

Roland Hawk.

Melvin Canter.

All dead, none by my hand, but all deaths well deserved, and none mourned.

Was I becoming what I’d once loathed? Passing judgment only when it suited
my
parameters and ideals?