Page 136 of The True Garza
“I heard voices and crying from the great room. As I was heading there, I found Oliver, the house manager, tied up and unconscious in the hallway. Seeing that, I decided it was best to get some visual first, so I went back out and snuck around to the side, to the patio with the wall of French doors. From there, I saw the two men who came in the delivery van, the chef, the client, and the two daughters.
“Mr. Mattison, the client, was tied to a chair, with a gun held to his head by one of the delivery men. The other one was crouched on the floor on the left of the room, trying to open a safe. The youngest daughter was duct-taped and on her knees. The eldest daughter was also duct-taped, but stripped naked from the waist down and bent over the couch while the chef….”
And now I’m getting enraged all over again. “The chef was sexually assaulting the eldest daughter while taunting Mr. Mattison that he would do the same to the other daughter if he didn’t give him all he asked for. And I… I withdrew my Red Cage service weapon and fired a distraction shot to pull him away from the daughter. Then I fired another two rounds, hitting him in the leg and shoulder. Once he was down, I took cover and fired another two again, taking down the one who’d had a gun trained on Mr. Mattison. I got him in both legs.
“The third man, who’d been working on the safe, tried to run, but I cornered him. He fired at me. I don’t remember getting hit, but that’s probably how I caught a slug in my arm. Anyway, I immobilized him with a leg shot, then zip-tied him. After that, I untied Mr. Mattison, and was about to untie the youngest daughter when I buckled and my vision went black. I heard the shot and felt the bullet hit my thigh, but that was it.”
“There was a fourth person,” Trent says tightly. “She was in the van; she just didn’t get out until she heard the shots. She hit you over the head with a bat, then shot you with your own weapon. She would’ve killed you if your colleagues didn’t show up before she could fire again.” His eyes are scarily hard on me as he grits out, “Do yougetnow why we have our rules in place?”
“Yeah, I get it. But you also need to get that it’s not in my nature to see civilians in danger and not help.”
“9-1-1. Call the fucking cops.”
“I’m—”
“You’reRed Cage,” he thunders over me.“That’s the first thing you’re told in training: Red Cage Private-Security Agents arenotcrime stoppers, vigilantes, or heroes. You protect and preventon the job. That’s it, Lonny. That’s.It.”
“Hey, c’mon, man,” Charles says, trying to calm him down, “chill out.”
“Chill out? She could’ve fuckingdiedin there.” He looks Charles up and down with a frown, then looks to Uncle Walter. “Why’re you both so fucking chill about this?”
“Because Lonny is Lonny,” Uncle Walter says with a tired sigh. “She’s stubborn, like her father. Given the chance, she’d do the same thing all over again, even at the risk of her own life. She’s your headache now.”
Trent curses, muttering something about my being “a pain in the ass since day one,” and leaves the room.
“Did you see anything else at all?” Charles asks me.
“No. When I came to, I was in the back of an ambulance. I don’t even know when it was that I passed out again. Why do you ask?”
“According to the LX-PD, when they arrived at the scene, Carlos Richards, the chef, had five gunshot wounds to the chest from his own gun. In addition to the shoulder and leg wounds from yours,” he informs. “Mattison claims he did it. And your colleagues have backed him up. But they found no gun residue on him.”
“Of course he didn’t do it. Have you met the man? He doesn’t have it in him.” I rub my throat, feeling parched. “But if someone sexually assaulted me in front of my father, I’d have enough rage in my veins to empty the clip in my assaulter.”
“So, you think he’s covering for his daughter?”
“Positive. Did they check her for residue?”
“Well, no….”
“Leave her be,” I say. “Justice was served.”
“You know that’s not how it works, Lonny.”
I know. Andthat’swhy I will always break the rules.
~
I wake upin the middle of the night to Brook fast asleep in the chair beside my bed, an open file in her lap. A smile tugs at me. She looks so innocent and harmless, though she’s anything but. She’s mischief and courage. A thrill-seeker. Fickle to the bone. Butloveswith her whole heart.
Outside the windows above her head, movement catches my attention. The blinds are pulled, but not completely. There’s a shift, forward and then back. The outline of broad shoulders, a ball cap.
“Charles?” I call through a scratchy throat. “Is that you?”
Someone shadows the doorway seconds later. Large and imposing. Jaw hard and set. Eyes blank. Shoulders tense.
He enters the room with a teal-colored basket. “The wife wanted me to give you this. Said you complained about minor back pains.” He places the basket on the small table, then takes out a curvy kind of pillow thing, showing it to me. “This is a back massager. I—Lexi checked with the nurses and they said it’s fine to use while you’re here.” He returns it to the basket and takes out something else. “She also said you were craving dark chocolate, so she got several different boxes for you.”
The only person I’ve complained to about my back hurting is Brook, and that was in the wee hours of the morning when she was half-asleep. And the one time I mentioned craving chocolate after my appetite returned, only a nurse was in the room with me.
