The Muscle Part Three (6 page)

“
H
ow’s it looking
?” Luca asked, glancing over Marco’s shoulder.

It had been a week since the discovery of the incoming shipment, and they’d spent every waking hour of that time planning and stockpiling in preparation. Luca had moments of doubt — what if they were wrong? What if they couldn’t get Diego to cooperate by giving them Sofia’s location? — but he forced himself to keep his head down and get the work done. They couldn’t control the what ifs, and he hadn’t stayed alive this long worrying about them.

You considered all the possibilities. You planned for them as much as you could. Then you did what needed to be done.

“I think we’re pretty good,” Marco said, moving some of the packing material off the crate that had arrived that morning.

Luca scanned the arsenal of semi-automatic weapons and ammo. He’d probably over-supplied in his determination to succeed. Isabel had been better since the night she’d destroyed her paintings — all but the most recent one — but he could see the fear in her tightly coiled shoulders, the way she seemed to carry them too close to her ears. He would do whatever it took to bring back Sofia. They had all the weapons they could carry. Any more would do them no good.

“Good,” Luca said. “Where’s Elia?”

“Checking out that contact of his to see if he needs a job.”

Luca was still working on getting more men for the raid. Diego would come well-equipped, with plenty of manpower on his side. Sofia’s life was hanging in the balance. They couldn’t afford to be outgunned.

“How well does he know the guy?” Luca asked.

“Well enough, I guess,” Marco said.

It wasn’t the answer Luca wanted. He swallowed it anyway. If it had been New York they could have mustered an army, but they were pathetically low on contacts in Miami. They would take what they could get.

Luca’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his jeans and looked at the display. Someone was buzzing the front gate. He tapped a few keys on the app he had set up on his phone to feed into the security cameras, then stared in shock at the image on the screen.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered to Marco.

He keyed in the command to open the gate while he stalked to the front door. Only a couple seconds passed before he heard the guttural roar of a car engine making its way through the winding drive. It was a black Audi, its windows tinted so dark Luca couldn’t make out the face of the figure in the driver’s seat. But that didn’t matter. He’d seen the face when the intercom had buzzed. He just didn’t quite believe it.

He folded his arms over his chest as the car came to a stop in the courtyard. A moment later a giant of man stepped from the driver’s side, eyes shielded behind reflective aviators.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Luca demanded.

Farrell Black flashed him a grin that looked more like a grimace. “Heard you needed help. Didn’t think I was going to let you use the pansy-ass blokes around here, did you?”

Luca shook his head. “Be careful where you say that. You’re entering the house of one of the biggest pansy-ass drug lords on the coast.”

He couldn’t stop the smile that rose to his lips as he said it. Diego was dangerous.

But no one was more dangerous than Farrell Black.

Luca was on the right side of the equation — Farrell’s side. But he still felt uneasy around the other man. Like a kid brother hoping his older brother wouldn’t stuff him in a locker or give him a beat down. Farrell had a way of making him careful. Of making everyone careful.

He stepped onto the brick porch, and Luca clapped his back. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked. “Could get ugly. Will get ugly.”

“Heard there was a little girl involved,” he said. “I don’t like people who fuck with kids.”

Luca nodded. He had that in common with Nico, although there had always been a lot more gray in Farrell’s honor code.

“Then I’m happy to have you,” Luca said. “We have an extra room, plenty of food, a shitload of weaponry, and one week to prepare.”

Farrell stepped through the door of the house, leaving Luca in his wake. “Sounds like my kind of operation.”

I
sabel was making
dinner when Luca entered the kitchen with a man that made her stop what she was doing and stare in shock. He was huge — at least a few inches taller than Luca’s already significant height. His biceps strained at the button down he wore over gray slacks that clung to thighs as big as some of the oldest palm tress on the property. But it wasn’t his size that forced her to resist the urge to back up against the kitchen counter.

It was the look in his eyes.

He had none of Luca’s warmth, none of the kindness she’d seen lurking under Luca’s tough exterior since that first night when he’d chased her down the beach.

“Isabel, this is Farrell Black. He’s going to be staying awhile to help with the raid,” Luca said.

Isabel dried her hands on a dishtowel and extended one of them to the big man occupying her kitchen. He looked at it suspiciously, then took it carefully, holding it like it was a grenade that might explode in his palm.

“Pleasure.”

She was surprised by the British accent. And not one of those street tough accents either — a proper British accent that made it clear this was an educated man. Which was doubly weird because of the faint scar that ran along the left side of his face, the close cropped hair that made her think of someone in the military, or maybe even a boxer.

“Welcome,” she said. “Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Let me show you to one of the guest rooms.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble,” he said.

She was pretty sure Farrell Black had caused a lot of trouble in his life, but she smiled anyway. She knew from experience that people were rarely as simple as they seemed on the outside. When she’d first met Luca, she’d been sure he was nothing but hired muscle — one of the mean, uneducated men Diego surrounded himself with to ensure they would do his bidding. And Luca had thought she was a spoiled rich girl with nothing between her ears. He’d been right about the spoiled part — at least when it came to money — but she liked to think he was at least a little surprised when he got to know her.

“Keep an eye on those beans, will you, Luca?” she asked.

He kissed the top of her head. “I will. You sure you don’t want me to take Farrell to his room?”

She shook her head. This was her house for awhile longer. She wanted to be hospitable and make sure their new guest was comfortable.

She craned her neck to look at the man who loomed over her. “Come on. I’ll show you around.”

She led him through the living and media rooms, telling him where he could find everything if he needed it. He was mostly silent, and she felt the magnetic pull of his presence at her back. It wasn’t sexual like it had always been with Luca. More like she knew he was there, and she knew nothing bad would happen to her as long as he was.

They made their way across the palazzo and around the pool, then continued to the back staircase.

“There’s the big staircase at the front of the house, too,” she said. “But if you’re back here, this one’s a bit closer.”

She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t say anything. She was already growing used to his silence.

They entered the second floor and continued down the hall before turning to the East wing and the set of bedrooms now occupied by Marco and Elia. When she got to the second door, she opened it and stepped into a large room with a private attached bath.

“You should have everything you need,” she said. “There are clean towels in the bathroom, and the bed always has clean sheets. I hope you’ll make yourself at home.”

The corners of his lips turned up into something approximating a smile. “Thank you.”

She nodded. “You’re welcome. And… thank you. For helping us try to get my sister back.”

“I don’t try. I do.”

His voice was low and calm, with almost no inflection to accent one word over another. It was a fact. Something she could take to the bank. She suddenly felt even better about their chances of finding Sofia.

She looked around, realizing he didn’t have a suitcase. “Do you need help with your things?”

He shook his head. “It’s just one bag in the car. I can handle it.”

She smiled. “All right, then. I’ll leave you to get settled. Just — ”

But she was cut off by the sound of something crashing at the far reaches of the property. She froze in the moment Farrell’s eyes met hers, and a split second later they heard the roar of a big engine barreling toward the house.

Farrell withdrew a weapon from under his jacket. “Stay here.”

He disappeared into the hall.

L
uca was already
at the door, standing behind the frosted glass on either side when Farrell came bounding down the steps.

“What’s going on?” he barked.

“I have no idea.” Luca had his weapon drawn, but judging by the two SUVs speeding toward the house, it wasn’t going to be enough. Farrell brought enough skill for four men, but with only Marco covering the back of the house while Elia was gone, they might still be outmatched.

“Fuentes?” Farrell asked.

Luca didn’t have time to answer before nine men spilled out from the two vehicles. They were wearing tactical gear and carrying AKs, their body language smooth and easy, speaking to their obvious experience. They fired on the house indiscriminately, spraying the facade with bullets as casually as if they were watering the lawn.

Farrell and Luca hit the floor at the same time, each of them crawling to one of the shattered windows on either side of the door.

“I’ve got the guys on the left,” Farrell said. “You take the right.”

Luca combed his mind as they fired on the men, now ducked behind the big, black cars they must have used to break through the front gate. This was way too coordinated and well equipped to be Diego. Which left only one other possibility.

Lorenzo Sanchez.

He was pulled from this thoughts by another spray of bullets, one of which came dangerously close to his head as it made its way through the empty window frame and into the wall of the foyer.

“Fuck!” he shouted, returning fire. It was a temporary strategy. He and Farrell were outmatched and outgunned. They wouldn’t be able to hold off the men outside forever. He looked at the stairs, then glanced at Farrell, hunkered down on the other side of the door. “Isabel?”

“Told her to stay upstairs,” Farrell said, squeezing off another round that sent the men outside running for cover.

Luca breathed a sigh of relief just in time for another hail of bullets to rip through the entry way.

“What the fuck…” He waited for the shots to be silent, then shouted out before he could change his mind. “Sanchez! It’s Luca Cassano. I want to negotiate.”

His words were met with silence, but it was better than another storm of gunfire. A minute later, Sanchez’s voice rang out through the silence.

“We have already tried that,” he said. “Turn over the traitor and we will leave you in peace.”

Luca cut his gaze to Farrell, who raised an eyebrow in question. There was no time to explain. Luca only had two options. Tell Sanchez Diego was missing and hope he was willing to work together or try to continue the ruse and inevitably be shut down before he could find Sofia.

“Fuentes isn’t here,” Luca shouted. “He’s been gone for over a month.”

Sanchez laughed. “This asshole has cojones,” he said to his men, just loud enough for Luca to hear. “Why didn’t you tell me this at our previous meeting? Why should I believe you now?”

Luca sighed, wishing they could have a conversation that didn’t involve shouting through the ruined front door while he braced himself to be hit with bullets from a bunch of semi-automatic weapons.

“There’s a… family matter,” he finally said. “Fuentes has taken his little sister as a hostage. I thought it might make it harder to find him if you knew he was MIA. But now I think we can help each other.”

Silence stretched long and thin. Farrell still had his gun pointed through a hole in the window, his big body as graceful as a lion sprawled out on the tile floor.

“What are you offering?” Sanchez asked.

“You help me get Diego when the shipment comes in so I can find the location of the girl, you get to keep him — and his territory — when I’m done.”

Another pause. “Or I could kill you now and take the territory myself.”

“Maybe,” Luca said. “But since we talked I’ve found some new information, and now I know when and where that shipment is coming in.” He hesitated, not wanting to show desperation but wanting to make it clear he had no interest in Diego’s supply. “I just want to get the girl to safety with her older sister. You have my word.”

He watched through the window as two of the men withdrew back into the car, probably to consult with Sanchez. A moment later Sanchez’s voice rang out across the courtyard.

“You have a deal,” he said. “But if you double cross me both women will be fed to the sharks — after we’re done with them.”

“And I have your promise that we walk away as long as we live up to our end?” he shouted back.

This time the pause was so long Luca wondered if Sanchez had changed his mind. Finally he spoke again.

“You have my word.”

Farrell looked at him with steely eyes. Luca could almost hear what he was thinking.

The word of a drug dealer. Perfect.

I
sabel sat
on the floor in the studio, the ruined pieces of her art scattered all around her. She’d been retreating more and more to the room in the three days since Lorenzo Sanchez’s men had been around the house. They hadn’t been disrespectful of her. But they reminded her too much of Diego with their hooded eyes and intent stares, and she still wasn’t entirely sure they could be trusted. She understood why Luca had to work with them — she just didn’t like it.

Most of the paintings she’d destroyed were a lost cause, the canvas shredded to the point of no repair. But there were two that might be saved. They would never be the same, of course. But with a little work and some creativity, she might be able to salvage them.

The door to the studio opened and Luca appeared.

“Busy?” he asked.

She smiled. “Never too busy for you.”

He entered the room and stood behind her, studying the remnants of the painting over her shoulder. “Looks like you might be able to save that one.”

She looked up at him, leaned into the pressure of his hands on her shoulders. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“Marco brought home food. You hungry?” he asked.

She nodded. “A little.”

He reached out, touched the bridge of her nose. “Why the worry?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“You get a little line on the bridge of your nose when you’re worried about something.”

“Do I?” She was touched that he would notice something about her even she hadn’t known.

He nodded, bent down to kiss the top of her head. “So? Talk to me.”

“I feel… nervous with so many people in the house,” she finally admitted.

“So many men, you mean,” he said softly.

She nodded, surprised to feel the sting of tears. She knew that she had suffered psychological damage because of what Diego’s men had done to her, but most of the time she was able to push it into a tiny box far, far away from the rest of her world. Luca had helped her work through her sexual fears, both by being patient and by not treating her too delicately when all she wanted was to feel like a woman. He’d soothed her in the middle of the night when she sat up with a start, skin coated with sweat, heart pounding like a trapped bird from one of her nightmares.

But there were still moments when she was scared. Even moments when she was ashamed. Marco and Elia were so different from the men her brother had surrounded himself with. Even Farrell, a man of few words with a gaze that could cut steel, felt like a different kind of animal.

Sanchez’s guards made her nervous — in more ways than one. She would be glad when this was over and they could be on their way. But in the meantime, she couldn’t hide in the studio forever.

Luca lowered himself to his heels so he was eye to eye with her in the chair. He took her hand, gently stroking her palm with his thumb.

“Look at me, Isabel.” She did, because she could never not look at him when he asked. Because looking at him had been the one thing that had kept her sane since Sofia’s disappearance. “I will never, ever let anyone hurt you again. Ever. I promise. Okay?”

She hesitated, then nodded. He was good and kind, but he was also fierce when the situation called for it, and she knew he would stop at nothing to protect her.

He stood and held out his hand. “Now come on. It’s Chinese. And you know how I like Chinese.”

She smiled and took his hand. In four days they would conduct their raid on Diego’s shipment at the harbor. They would hand Diego over to Sanchez — she’d made a point of not thinking about what would be next for him, he’d forfeited a right to her love when he was cruel to Sofia — and then the future would be in front of them like a real life dream.

Just four more days.