“Kiro doesn’t use anymore. I told you that.” Which was true. He’d cleaned up and started spending all his time with his wife, Harlow’s mother, who was completely dependent on constant care because of brain damage caused by a car accident years ago.
Franco laughed, throwing his head back as if I were hilarious. I waited until his insane laughter ended. “I’m serious. He’s not even touring anymore. Haven’t you noticed that?”
Franco leaned closer to me, and I swallowed hard, trying not to whimper. “I don’t give a fuck. I want you to introduce me. That’s all I’m asking, Nanette.”
“No,” I replied, without thinking through how he would react to my refusal.
His hand wrapped around my upper arm as he jerked me against his body until his face was in mine. “Yes, you will, or I’ll take you inside this house and slice off one long, pretty finger at a time while you scream and bleed all over the expensive floors. When you finally have had enough, I’ll get it from you and end your pathetic existence with a single bullet. Right”—he placed his middle finger on the spot between my eyebrows—“here.”
“Step away from her, or I’ll put a single bullet through the back of your motherfucking head.” Major’s voice came from nowhere, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I was actually dreaming all this. The vomiting? Franco? Major? This was all getting more unbelievable by the moment.
Franco’s eyes narrowed. He glared down at me as if this was my fault. I was as confused as he was. Major wasn’t supposed to be here. He’d run off and left town more than a month ago without a good-bye. Not that I’d expected one. I hadn’t left things with him on good terms.
Franco moved, and I screamed as a shot was fired, just before Franco cursed and turned away from me to face Major.
Major
Franco’s gun fell to the ground as he grabbed his bleeding hand. I was a sure shot. If I wasn’t, I’d never have fired that close to Nan. Knowing he was about to press a gun against Nan had been the only warning I needed to stop his ass. I wasn’t waiting for a better time. The arrogant fool had come here alone. Thinking he didn’t need his bodyguard and a posse of firearms surrounding him.
Bad move, Franco. Bad fucking move. I might have been reassigned by DeCarlo, but I wasn’t giving up that easily. I’d gotten a lead on Franco once he entered the States, and I knew he would be headed this way. So I waited. This was my assignment, and I was seeing it through.
Franco shoved Nan back one-handed, with enough force to cause her to fall. That pissed me off. She hadn’t done shit to this coldhearted bastard. So when he turned to face me, I aimed at his shoulder. I didn’t want to kill him easy. I preferred that he bleed to fucking death in pain with the several bullet holes I placed in him. The man had raped young girls and sold their bodies to the highest bidder. He deserved a painful death for what he’d done.
“What the fuck?” he roared as he faced me.
I didn’t reply. I shot his right shoulder, and he cursed and fell back on his ass from the impact.
“OHMYGOD!” Nan screamed as she scrambled backward.
I looked toward her for one second and gave her a nod to assure her before shifting my attention back to the man on the ground. He’d reach for his phone soon, and I needed to make sure I shot that, too. No help was coming for Franco. Not today.
Walking slowly toward him, I watched as he held his shoulder with his bleeding hand and rolled back and forth in pain. It was entertaining to watch. I never thought of myself as a cruel, hard man, but when faced with someone who deserved death, I realized I enjoyed meting out the punishment. Captain had been right when he’d said I was cut out for this.
“You OK, Nan?” I called out, keeping my eyes locked on Franco as I approached him.
“Yes,” she replied, sounding more than frantic. “What are you doing?”
“Trying not to kill this bastard until they come get him,” I replied calmly. Franco stared up at me with a mix of pain and hatred in his eyes. “But I’ll kill him if he fucks with me,” I finished.
“Who is coming to get him? The police? He’s a drug lord, Major. A very, very dangerous one. You don’t know what you’ve just walked into.”
So she did know. Interesting. Nan had known about Franco, yet she’d fooled both Cope and me. Had to hand it to her, she was good at covering. I’d never have guessed she had any idea who Franco actually was.
“You fooled us, Nan. Kudos,” I said in all honesty. “Now, get your phone and call Cope, sweetheart. Tell him exactly what just happened.”
“Who?” she asked, frowning, and I realized my mistake.
“My bad. Gannon. Call Gannon,” I replied. “He still has the phone you have the number to. I’d bet my left nut on it.”
Nan didn’t move. I could feel her staring at me, and I wondered why she didn’t already know all this. I had left her the damn note. Why was she so confused?
“The cameras, Nan. The note I left you. About Cope. I mean Gannon. Shit, Nan, just call him. If this bastard moves, I’m gonna have to shoot him again, and I’d rather he not bleed out until Cope gets here.”
Franco moved slightly, and I aimed at his knee and shot, just because I wanted to hear him scream. Nan screamed with him. The distance between Nan’s house and her neighbors would mask the gunshots, thanks to the sounds of the Gulf, but I wasn’t sure for how long. Eventually, someone was going to hear the commotion.
Nan jumped up and ran to get her phone—I hoped. If she called the police, this was going to be harder to explain. Cope would be pissed, too. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my own phone. I’d better handle it. Every number I had for any of them was now disconnected. Except, of course, Captain’s. I had a feeling Captain was the only reason they’d let me live. When I hadn’t gone to Mexico and no one came after me, I knew it was all thanks to Captain.