Chapter Eighteen
Bones
Iopen my eyes andit takes them a moment to focus.As the world swims into view, I do a double take—and then another one.What the fuck.I’m laid up in my bedroom back home, as in, in our late mother’s home ...the home that has remained empty and untouched since she died and left us orphans in a cruel and unforgiving world not particularly kind to immigrants.My posters still hang on the wallpapered walls, though some have given in to fatigue and started to peel away.My pretty crystal and macabre skull collection from my late teens still adorns my shelves, while my childhood rosary rests on my bedside table, ready for reciting prayers.“Marcus?”I rasp, clearing my throat when my voice comes out croaky.
“Maria?”My brother appears in an instant, as if he’s been sitting by my side just waiting for me to wake up.
I lift my hand to my head, then flinch and frown when pain radiates from my left side.Wincing, I lick my lips and ease the bed covers back only to discover my flank bandaged and blood stained.I swallow hard, my mouth dry.“What happened?”I ask, willing the slow dread rising from the depths of my soul to be still.“And where’s Sunny?”
Marcus sits down on a chair by the bed and reaches out for my hand.“You were shot in your apartment.You were lucky it was a through-and-through,hermana.Raphael was able to take care of it.”
“And Sunny?”I press.
“She’s been taken,” he says, his dark eyes filled with more emotion than should be possible.
I flinch and look away, staring at the window beyond.The crystal likeness of a sun hangs over the white lace, sparkling in the sunlight and casting rainbow shards of light around my room.My heart begins to thunder as the realization hits me in the face like a cold wet fish.Holy shit.It’s been her all along...“And how long have I been out?”I ask, swallowing an uncomfortable lump in my throat.
“It’s been seventy-two hours since Jacinta called me, Maria,” he answers, squeezing my hand tight.“I had you moved home for safety.Everything’s off the record.No one will find you here.You can rest and take the time you need to heal.”
“What?”I turn to look at my brother.“Fuck, no.”I pull my hand away and force myself to my elbows, before dragging myself back and up into a seated position.The pain is sharp when I move, but dull and bruised feeling when I’m still.“I’ve been out for three days, Marcus.I need to find Sunny.Her asshole ex came for her.Who knows what that prick has been doing to her?What if he’s beating her again?”I ask, my eyes narrowing in anger as my jaw sets.“I’m not going to abandon her.I’m going to find her, with or without your help,Killface.”
My whole body shakes with so much fury that I feel like I’m going to combust on the spot and send my preserved childhood bedroom up in flames.I feel sweat on my brow and wipe it away with annoyance.“So, are you with me or not?”I push.
“I amalwayswith you, Maria,” he says, his expression stoic, but wounded.I see it in the subtle changes in his expression.“But we’ve got no leads at the moment.Security was tampered with at theTriton, and he left no prints.This guy might be an asshole but obviously isn’t a complete idiot.”
Wincing as I move into a more comfortable position, I reach for the water by my bedside, mindful of the roaming IV in my left arm.I take a sip and my mouth feels like an oasis blooming into life after a prolonged period of drought.It refreshes me and I take a deep breath, mentally turning my rage from outward destruction to finding something, anything that could lead me to Sunny.“All right,” I say, nodding to myself.“Well, she lived in Vermont Heights in St.Augustine, and her ex...I think she called him Luka?”
Marcus rises to his feet in a heartbeat, the chair scraping the wooden floorboards of our trapped-in-time home.“Luka from St.Augustine?”he repeats.
“Yeah, she said their house looks like a little cottage.They’ve got a wrap-around garden and an arbor near the letter box.You’ve tried calling her phone, right?”I add as an afterthought.
Marcus rolls his eyes.“Seriously?”
I shrug and offer him a grimace of a smile.“So, his name’s familiar to you?”
My brother nods and returns the chair to my desk by the window before speaking.“I’ve heard of a contract killer called Luka.He’s been dancing in circles with the mafia.He’s nothing special, just your run-of-the-mill man-for-hire, except for the fact he’s indeep.There’s been rumors going around about a trafficking ring cropping up.Questions are being asked along the grape vine.And the word is that the mafiosos like their blondes...”
My stomach drops and I grind my teeth, clenching them hard as I flex my torso, purposely inflicting pain upon myself, purposefully spiking my rage and feeding my fury with glorious purpose.“Get the boys,” I say.“We’re going after her,now.”
My brother shakes his head and stands tall, exerting every inch of his authority as the President of the Sons of Sin, Jacksonville Chapter, and my older brother.“No.There’ll be no rescue today, Maria.Tomorrow, when you’ve had a chance to recover your wits, we’ll talk.We should have more intel by then, too.We never go in blind, remember that.”
“But, Marcus,” I object, but he cuts me off before I can finish.
“No.I’ll have men in the house and surrounding the house.You aren’t leaving, Maria.Not until I know you’re in your right mind and had time to think this through properly.I didn’t champion you for VP because you’re a rash bitch.I need you to use your brains, Maria.”
“So, you’re basically holding me prisoner, is that it?”I demand, flinging my blankets back and staring him down.
“You’re no one’s prisoner, sister, least of all mine.You’re here to heal in safety.We’ll talk tomorrow,” he emphasizes again.“In the meantime, I’ll have Ricki bring your phone and laptop.And what do you want for dinner?I’ll make the arrangements.”
If only my brother could see the intangible steam fuming out my ears, he’d back the fuck up and recognize that I’m not playing.I can’t sit around while who-knows-what befalls my sunshine.I won’t fucking do it.I promised her a home, a place of safety, and a club willing to look out for her...I swallow hard, as if forcing down a splinter of glass, and wince, dramatizing the pain a little more than I feel.“Fuck,” I hiss and relax back against the pillows.Resting my hands over my bandages, I sigh in mock defeat, maintaining my grumpiness as I steal a leaf out of Sunny’s book on brattiness.“Fine.But first thing tomorrow—do you promise, Marcus?Do you swear we’ll go after her?”I ask.“Do you swear on...”I take a deep breath and meet his gaze, eyes narrowed, wanting to push as hard as possible.“Do you swear on mama’s grave?”
