Page 77 of Hart of Redemption
I held my tongue as I clutched the aluminum briefcase, looking around the space, which was empty except for a large crate butted up against the wall. Stairs led up to a landing that split to the right and left, with offices or rooms in view behind the metal railing.
No sign of Grace or Alexa. No sign of Mateo.
I walked toward the back of the building while Rosario rushed up to the second level.
I found shelves filled with old and oily car parts, boxes, and other junk. A desk beneath posters of half-naked women on the wall was by the entrance to the bathroom, and there was a side door. I checked the bathroom to be sure it was empty, and a shitty odor hit me when I poked my head inside. At least whoever had taken a crap had had the decency to open the window.
I backtracked, set the briefcase on the desk, and pulled out the two guns I had stored behind the velvet cover inside. The moron grunt hadn’t bothered to inspect the case in detail. I hadn’t expected him to. All he’d seen was money, and that was what I’d been banking on.
I tucked my 9mm in my back beneath my shirt.
Rosario came down, holding her nose, obviously smelling the stench filtering out of the bathroom. “Nothing upstairs but metal and boxes and trash.”
I handed the other weapon to her.
“Never let anyone tell you that you’re not intelligent.” She pocketed the Glock. “Where do you think Alexa and Grace are? Or that bastard?”
I shrugged as she removed her phone from her front pants pocket and called Gustavo. “Mateo and the girls are not here. Are they out there somewhere?”
“I think he’s walking in now,” he said.
She returned her phone to her pocket as the door squeaked open and Mateo strutted in with a grin the size of California—gun in one hand and clutching Alexa with the other. “I see you brought the money.”
“I don’t see Grace.” Panic clawed its way up to settle in my throat. “Where the fuck is my sister?” There was a bullet with his name on it.
Mateo’s smirk was cutting my insides to shreds. “Patience.”
I scrubbed a hand over my chin, keeping my anger simmering.
“Alexa,mi querida.” Rosario’s pained voice turned to rage when she lunged at Mateo.
Alexa wasn’t exactly coherent, stumbling against Mateo for purchase.
I caught Rosario before her nails scored Mateo’s face. “Easy.”
I would have loved to see her gouge out his eyes, but any stupid move on our part could make things worse for Grace and Alexa.
Mateo laughed as he pushed Alexa down on the floor. The poor girl hit her head against the wall, the impact waking her up as she winced. When she finally set her eyes on her mother, she said, “Mom?”
Rosario was blooming red and oozing venom. “Sit tight, Alexa. Mateo, I’m here. Now what? You want to kill me? Give it your best shot.”
He waved his weapon in the air as if he were wagging his finger at her. “Not yet. I have big plans for us this morning. But before we start, show me the money.”
I sneered. “Show me Grace. And if there’s a scratch on her, you won’t be getting squat.”
“I’m the one in charge, not you, Duke.”
I craved to strangle him, hang him up by his ankles, slit his throat, and watch him bleed out.
“Where are my guns?” Rosario asked.
“In that crate,” he said, not taking his eyes off me as if he knew I was up to something.
Oh, I was, but I was waiting for the right time.
“Where are the rest?” she asked. “That truck was loaded with them.”
Mateo offered her a casual shrug. “You know, Duke here thinks Tito and I don’t have the brains to sell guns.” His sarcastic tone was scraping along my nerves. “But I’m on my way to success. I sold all but that crate. I wanted to save a handful for you.” He pouted. “After all, I’m a man of my word.”
