“Mierda!” They shouted out, Tweedledee and Tweedledum waving their arms around and grabbing their guns.
I watched Mikakov raise his arms out wide. The Las Balas crew stopped moving and stopped talking. Both Hector and I were mesmerized by the showdown.
There was a heated exchange between the two. I know because I saw the veins lifted on Mikakov’s neck. His team flanked him and raised their guns at one point. The icy night wind cut through the grass and across our faces, causing me to shiver involuntarily. The Las Balas crew members’ faces looked shocked, and Mikakov beckoned one of his men, who reached in the van and brought out a suitcase.
The suitcase was opened, and I zoomed the binoculars in. It was the almighty greenbacks and lots of them. He closed the case and slid it over to them. One of the main henchmen pointed their gun to one of the others, gesturing for him to count it. Through the lens, I could see him rifling through the notes, counting. It took about ten minutes. Once satisfied, my man Mikakov gestured with a cut-your-throat motion and a gun-to-the-head motion. I knew what that meant.
I tapped Hector, encouraging him to see for himself. “Look. There it is. All clear.”
Hector looked, his mouth dropping wide open. “Holy shit. You just saved my life. I can’t fucking believe this. Are you sure they won’t come after me?”
I could just make out his face in the night. “I’m sure. The Russians are not the men to play with.”
“Okay,” he said mildly.
I watched through the lens. The last of it was over. We could all move forward now. I watched the Russians wait until the Las Balas crew left. I saw the walkie flash again.
“It’s over. Debt paid in full. We took care of it. With a few incentives for them not to try anything.”
“Thanks, Mikakov.”
“We owed you. Your loyalty has not gone unrecognized.”
“Roger that.”
“Tell Hector to stay the hell away from those fuckers.”
“Will do. Over and out.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. I want nothing to do with that life.”
I slapped him on the back. “Come on, let’s go.”
Erring on the side of caution, we hung in the tall blades of grass for another twenty minutes. Then we both rose. My muscles were cramped from lying in position. Over the top of the hill and over the other side, my vehicle was parked. Two open fields, nothing but dusty California dirt and sparse grass that never had a chance to grow, separated us from the car. There were no streetlights on this side, just the glistening sliver of the luminescent moonlight. I listened for even the faintest sound of footsteps or anything funky. Nothing. My heartbeat quickened for some reason, thundering through my ears. The wind picked up.
Hector was in the car. The ebony night brought something wicked. The sound of someone running in the darkness. Sharp intakes of breath, gaining.
I reached for my gun. Dammit! I took it off my waistband when we were all clear. Mikakov’s warning rang in my ears. Watch the fields.
I stepped into the slice of the moonlight.
I saw a snarling face, ten paces away.
Don’t get out of the car, Hector. Stay put.
I squatted to the ground, grabbing a handful of dusty brown dirt. I fisted it and threw it directly at the running target.
He stumbled back in shock, grunting. I caught the barrel of the pistol in his hand. Due to the shock, he stumbled to the ground. I kicked the gun away. I heard Hector get out of the car. On the rebound, so he didn’t have time to recover, I swung back and engaged from the hip, delivering a body blow. I watched him fly back a few feet as I knocked the wind out of him. I was twice his size.
“Who the fuck are you?” I demanded.
The man fell back, and I straddled his face. He had on his leathers with the Las Balas crew logo. Hector tried to come in while the guy was discombobulated.
“No! Back.”
The black van of the Russians came swerving into view. Mikakov swung out. “I told you to watch the perimeter. I knew it was too easy,” he said.
He pulled the gun and shot a clean shot straight at the man’s head. It all happened in a split-second flash. Hector faced away. Brain fragments soiled the dirt as the shiny, rich blood seeped from the hole in the man’s head. I looked closer and saw he was definitely of Spanish descent.
Mikakov signaled with his gun, waving us off. “You two, go now! We clean up this mess.” His angry Russian accent was enough to move us on from the site.
“Thanks.”
I got inside the car, and we drove away in silence.
“Don’t tell Amber. She doesn’t need to know, okay?” I heaved with a sudden sickening weariness resting on my shoulders. “You’re safe now.”
“Thanks, man, that shit was crazy.” Hector’s face was coming back to color. It had been white as a sheet earlier. It looked like it was the first time he’d seen a dead body.
“See why I didn’t want you to come?”
Time for a fresh start.
Twenty
Amber
Two strong knocks rapped on my door just after ten o’clock at night. I didn’t have a peephole. Anxiety weakened my voice.
“Hello?” I squeaked out.
“Hey, it’s me. Colt.”
I opened the door wide, and a tired, weary cowboy stood before me.
“Oh my God, what happened? You look terrible!”
He placed both of his large, now callused hands on both sides of my face and kissed with every bit of passion I think he had.
“I love you, Amber Atwood.”
His clothes were drenched as I felt around his waist for injuries. There were none. I touched his right hand, and it was badly swollen. I focused on it.
“You’re hurt. Sit down.” I went to the fridge and grabbed one of the snap ice packs and a dish towel. I wrapped it around his fist. “Hold it in place,” I commanded.
His face was laced with pain, and he gritted his teeth. When he saw the worry on my face, he turned his wincing into a grin.
“I’m okay. Your brother is okay, too. He’s at the house. I had to see you. I wanted to let you know I’m safe.” He paused. “You have some alcohol? This is going to sting for a few hours.”
“Sure. I have bourbon. I have—”
“Bourbon. That’s the one. Neat. Thanks.”
On my tiptoes, I reached for my special square tumblers. I brought the bourbon out of the alcohol cabinet, pouring the dirty brown liquid in the glass for him.
“Ice?”
“No. Just like that. Get ready for the re-up. This shit hurts.”
I didn’t take my eyes off him.
“Baby, I’m not going to pass out, if that’s what you think. Plus, you ain’t going to be able to lift me off the ground in a hurry.” He chortled a little. I tried to hide the little smile creeping up, but he saw it. “There it is. I knew that smile was in there.”
“Here, drink this and shut up,” I commanded.
“Yes, ma’am.” He tossed it back in one fell swoop.
“Another?”
“Yes.” I poured him another one, and this time, I drew down a glass and poured myself one. I added ice.
“Joining in the party?” he asked spicily.