Then there were the Balestra soldiers. The men that pulled the trigger.
And Balestra himself.
I wanted him most of all.
It took me a minute to get myself together. I’d killed men before. Done it brutally, too. But thinking about Carmine and his family had set me off and sent me tumbling down into a pit of despair.
I didn’t have much. Had grown up with two dead parents and a grandmom that could barely take care of herself, let alone an angry, big, rebellious kid like me. I’d spent a lot of time on the streets getting into trouble. I’d been a nuisance. A nightmare to the local folks. At least until I’d met Carmine.
He’d given me direction and channeled my anger and violence into something useful.
Now he was gone and I was unleashed again.
I looked at the night sky. Stars everywhere. I hated San Antonio. I wanted to get the hell away.
But there was nowhere to go. Not while Balestra and the rest were still alive.
I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about Carmine’s easy smile and the way he’d drape his arm over my shoulders. Mal, you big, scary bastard. You’re gonna wreck this town one day, aren’t you?
I walked out of the alley. The place was empty. Not a soul in sight. I walked across the street, down a couple of blocks, and found my old Chevy. It was a beat-up truck with a rusty bed and bad brakes, but I loved her faded black paint job and the cushy leather seats. I brought her to life and drove farther south, deeper into a worse neighborhood.
I lived in an apartment building tucked at the end of a dusty lot. I parked, waited to make sure there was nobody around, and headed out. I didn’t want anyone to see the blood. I slipped in the side door, went up the back stairs, and came out onto my floor. I was careful, making sure nobody saw.
I stopped on the threshold.
A person sat outside my door. I could barely make them out. They were too far away, just a blur in the dim hall. The building was too cheap to change the communal lightbulbs. The place was black when the sun went down. I hesitated and tried to decide. The carpet smelled like old tobacco and puke. I gripped the baton and drew it out slowly as I approached.
She stood when I got close.
Capri.
I stopped and stared. She was as beautiful as I remembered. Long legs and curvy hips. Complicated feelings swirled in me, warring and fighting for dominance. Her dark red hair and big green eyes made me want to hug her. Those lips made me want to kill her.
That mouth made me want to cut her throat.
“Hey, Mal,” she said. “Long time no see.”
Capri Balestra. Daughter of the man I planned on killing.
And the only other person I’d ever given a damn about.
Chapter 2
Capri
Mal lived in a shithole.
The place he’d had before prison hadn’t been great, but this was even worse. The apartment building looked like it’d been built in Soviet Russia, except the Russians had decided it wasn’t nice enough and shipped it off to the seediest neighborhood in San Antonio. An emaciated woman had let me inside and begged to bum a cigarette. I’d had nothing and she’d called me a slut.
I’d knocked on his door for five minutes before giving up and sitting down. I’d pulled my knees to my chest and waited. Sounds from the other apartments had bled out into the hallway: televisions playing too loud, someone practicing on guitar, a couple fighting, another couple fucking. I’d closed my eyes and smelled sweat, decomposing garbage, and perfume.
How’d Mal end up here, after everything?
He’d stepped into the shadows of the hall and scared the hell out of me. I’d been half asleep and jerked awake suddenly, scrambling to my feet while he stood there and stared. He had that stupid baton gripped in his hand, but he didn’t flip it out. I’d seen him play with that dumb thing so many times over the years—but that probably wasn’t the same one. So much had changed.
I hadn’t seen him in over a year. Not since he’d gone to prison. I hadn’t visited, never written, and he’d never called. I’d hated myself for that and agonized over my decision almost every day, but I’d known it was the right choice. My father never would’ve let me go, and besides, it only would’ve drawn attention to him.
Staying locked up had saved his life.
“Hey Mal,” I said, trying to muster some courage. My bottom lip trembled and felt numb. “Long time no see.”
“What the fuck are you doing here, Capri?”
“Thought I’d come visit you. I know it’s a little late, but—”
He walked toward me. I backed off, suddenly afraid. I’d never been afraid of Mal before, but Carmine had been around to soften Mal’s edges. Those two were inseparable, and I’d always felt like a third wheel when I hung out with them. But that had been okay. I’d liked being a part of something and didn’t have any other friends.