Beautifully Brutal (Southern Boy Mafia #1) (17 page)

Max couldn’t believe it. He didn’t know Casper well, but he knew that the man was over the moon for his wife, loved her. But he’d been in love with Genevieve? When they were kids?

“Oh, don’t try to figure out the romantic angle,” Samuel stated as though reading Max’s mind. “It’s not always about love, son. Sometimes, it’s simply about paying someone back for ruining what they thought they’d had at one point. Casper wears the white fucking hat; he saves people. But he wasn’t able to save Genny.”

Samuel was referring to Max’s mother, admitting what they’d all known. She’d been ruined by him, taken down a path that she clearly hadn’t seen coming, and look at her now. She was … damaged.

Samuel took a step closer. “I may be leavin’ the decision makin’ to you now, but you cross me, boy, and you won’t like the consequences.”

Max got to his feet, his hands fisted at his sides. “I know what I’m doin’,” he told him, shaking off all the images of the story his father had just told him.

“That girl’s a problem. She’s doin’ her daddy’s dirty work, and I doubt she even knows it. I’ve talked to her; your mother has talked to her. She’s sneaky, I’ll give her that. The only person who put two and two together was your mother.”

Which explained the downward spiral Genevieve had been on for the last couple of years. She’d known who Courtney was, known she was Casper’s daughter.

“I want that girl out of the picture.”

“She’s not a problem,” Max assured his father, trying to rein in his anger.

“Send her on her way, Max. Do what’s right by this family.”

“I
said
,” Max snarled, “she’s not a problem.”

“Is that why you spent the weekend fuckin’ her in your penthouse?” Samuel snapped.

“For the record, I wasn’t with her. Not that I should have to explain myself to you or anyone else,” Max hissed, the anger intensifying, threatening to boil over.

It didn’t matter how much respect for his father he’d once had, Max didn’t appreciate when anyone—fucking
anyone
—questioned him. Not his actions, not his motives. Not a goddamn thing. He knew what the fuck he was doing.

Samuel eyed him suspiciously, and Max didn’t move a muscle. “That’s not what Artemis told me,” Samuel stated roughly.

“And what the fuck does Artemis know?” Max tossed out, letting his father hear his irritation. “He knows exactly what Angelica wants him to know. And what I do is none of her fucking business.”

“Maybe not. But you need to keep your fuckin’ dick in your pants until after the goddamn wedding. Until then, this can only end badly.”

“It’s bein’ handled,” Max assured his father, not intending to go into details as to how.

“Fine.” Samuel thrust his hands in his pockets, continuing to glare back at Max. “However, this girl… I don’t want her anywhere near this family ever again. I let it go on for far too long, waitin’ to see if Casper would play his hand. I’m tired of waitin’. If you can’t make that happen, then I will.”

Max growled. It was involuntary. Any threat to Courtney, regardless of who was making it, would never sit well with him. There wasn’t a man or woman alive who he wouldn’t gut and let bleed out if they ever laid a hand on her. His father included. And if Samuel thought for one single minute he could intimidate Max with threats, he’d better think again.

“I see it in your eyes. She means somethin’ to you, son. But that’s gotta stop. She’s not good for this family. And the more she knows, the more of a liability she becomes.”

“She’s—”

“Don’t lie to me, Max,” Samuel bit out, his voice low, threatening. “Nothin’ you can say will convince me that she ain’t important. But I want you to move forward, do what’s right. Marry that goddamn bitch,” Samuel said, pointing toward the door. “She’ll understand her place.”

Max wasn’t so sure that was the case, but he didn’t bother to argue with his father. There was no point.

Without moving an inch, Max watched as Samuel retreated toward the door and left his office.

When Leyton stepped into the room a second later, Max instructed him to close the door.

“Yes, sir?”

“I want eyes on Courtney. No matter what, do not let her out of our sight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“If so much as a single hair on her head is harmed, I will—”

“No need to clarify, sir,” Leyton stated. “I understand.”

And with that, Leyton turned and left the room.

Chapter Twenty-One

Weddings… Seemed everyone was planning them these days.

“I’m gettin’ married in less than three weeks!” Marissa exclaimed in a harsh whisper, her blue eyes sparkling, her grin wide.

Courtney laughed at her best friend as they sat on Trace’s sofa, talking and sharing a bottle of wine. “That you are.”

“I still can’t believe it, Court.”

“Well, you should. You’ve even got the dress to prove it.”

Courtney watched as Marissa’s face flushed with happiness. After all that Marissa had been through, it was refreshing to see the other woman so happy. And Courtney was happy for her. In twenty days, when Marissa married Courtney’s older brother Trace, Marissa would officially become Courtney’s sister-in-law.

Since their fathers were in business together, Courtney had grown up with Marissa. They’d been best friends since birth. They’d made it through school, through their first boyfriends, their first heartbreaks, their first loves… All of it they’d done together.

And when Marissa had nearly been kidnapped, Courtney had vowed to find the bastard who’d dedicated his time and effort to hunting her down. Unfortunately, Courtney had let Marissa down in that regard because she’d refused to go to Max, refused to find out what he knew. If she’d done that, it likely would’ve been over a long time ago, and Marissa wouldn’t have been shipped off to five safe houses in a period of a year.

And Courtney would forever carry that guilt around with her.

“So, tell me about the rich girl.”

Courtney smiled. “Not much to tell. She’s rich.”

“And stupid, apparently.”

“That goes without sayin’,” Courtney replied. “In her defense, she was raised by the hired help. Her father works twenty-four seven. Her mother is out spending his money as fast as he’s makin’ it.”

“So she has daddy issues?”

“Among others.”

“Was she nice?” Marissa inquired.

“Yeah, she was. And when she wasn’t rebelling, she was almost tolerable.”

“Then you should be happy. She’s gonna get the help she needs.”

Yes, thanks to Courtney’s interference, the girl was spending time in rehab. And hopefully, when she got out, she’d be ready to start over.

Marissa poured more wine and moved back onto the couch. “What’s your next assignment?”

Courtney sipped her wine, looking down at the cushion. “Dad wants me here until after the wedding. Then I’m sure Hunter or RT’ll find someone else for me to babysit.”

She didn’t bother to tell her best friend that she was technically on an assignment, that she was once again tasked with trying to dig into Max’s world. Nor did she tell her friend that she was doomed to fail because after all they’d been through, after all the shit Courtney had lived through, still finding herself in love with a fucking killer, she had fucked it all up.

Let’s set the record straight right now. I don’t trust you, Courtney. I’ve never trusted you. You’re a good fuck, yes. But other than that, you have nothing to offer me.

“You need to tell him no,” Marissa said, her back stiffening.

Courtney’s eyes widened as she tried to process Marissa’s words. Surely she hadn’t been reading her mind.

“It’s time they let you do something you want to do. Your talent’s wasted on these snotty little brats whose daddies have more money than sense.”

Courtney smiled. She loved how defensive Marissa was of her. They’d always been that way, having one another’s backs. Before Courtney could respond, her cell phone rang. She snatched it up from the cushion.

Unknown caller.

Stabbing the screen, Courtney brought the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

Silence.

“Who is this?”

More silence.

“Damn it. If you’re gonna keep callin’ me, you better find the balls to say something,” she snarled, lowering her voice.

When she was met with more silence, Courtney hit the button to end the call.

“What was that about?” Marissa asked, her eyes wide with concern.

“No idea.” Courtney glared at the phone. She needed to get Dominic to trace the calls, but she hadn’t found the time or energy, not to mention the desire to tell him about what was going on. If word got out that someone was harassing her, Casper would likely assign someone to watch her. And that was the last damn thing she needed.

“How long has that been goin’ on?”

Courtney looked up at Marissa. “A couple of days. They never say anything.” Ever since the night Max had taken her to his penthouse to talk. Or more accurately, the night Max had shattered her heart with his callous remarks.

“How many times have they called?” Marissa probed.

“Too many,” Courtney replied. “I’m sure it’s just some kids bein’ stupid.”

Courtney didn’t think that at all, but she couldn’t very well tell Marissa that. Despite the fact that Marissa was her best friend, Courtney couldn’t bring herself to talk about Max, or anything related to him. Not the assignment she was on—the one she’d failed miserably at on Friday night—and not about the threatening phone calls she’d started receiving in the wee hours of the morning on Saturday. She knew that it wasn’t a coincidence, either.

The two times the caller had said something, it had been along the lines of “Leave Max alone,” but the caller was using a voice modulator, making it impossible to tell whether it was a man or a woman.

However, Courtney wasn’t stupid. She knew of only one person who would want to warn Courtney away from Max. Only one person who would resort to childish bullshit.

His future wife.

Then again, Courtney couldn’t blame the woman for being angry. Courtney had battled with the green-eyed monster more than once in the last couple of days herself.

Which was why she’d vowed to stay away from Max at all costs. She was biding her time before she told her father that she couldn’t go through with the assignment because she had stupidly come clean with Max the last time she’d seen him.

“Have you told Trace?” Marissa’s question interrupted Courtney’s thoughts, pulling her back to the moment.

“No. And you won’t, either,” Courtney said sternly. “I can handle myself. I don’t want anyone else involved.”

“Is it Max?” Marissa inquired.

Courtney shook her head sadly. “No.”

“What happened between the two of you, anyway?”

Taking a deep breath, Courtney faced off with her friend. “I can’t say. It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, but—”

“If you tell me, you’ll have to kill me. I know the drill,” Marissa said with a snort.

Courtney laughed. “Not exactly what I was gonna say, but sure, let’s go with that.”

“Fine. Then let’s talk about my wedding.”

Courtney grinned, grateful that Marissa was willing to change the subject. And though her mood had darkened somewhat, Courtney welcomed the chance to not think about Max.

At least for a little while.

Chapter Twenty-Two

An assignment? Yes, please.

Present day

Tuesday, May 5th

The insistent chirp of her cell phone pulled Courtney from sleep. She knew who it was because she’d assigned ring tones to each member of her family. And based on the noise, she couldn’t ignore this call, even if she wanted to. Rolling over, she grabbed her cell phone from the nightstand, forced her eyes open, and peered at the number before hitting the talk button.

“Dad?”

“Hey, baby girl. Sorry to wake you, but this is important. We’ve got a missin’ kid. Need everyone on this one.”

Before he was finished with his sentence, Courtney was out of bed and heading to the bathroom. “I can be in the office in forty-five minutes.”

“We’ll be here,” Casper told her quickly, then disconnected the line.

Rushing through her shower after pulling her hair up into a ponytail, Courtney managed to get ready in fifteen minutes. Her outfit of choice was always the same when she was heading out on an op such as this one. Black tank top, black pants, combat boots, and yes, her gun. Not to mention, a backup she kept in an ankle holster beneath her pants.

Without fanfare, she snatched her keys and her cell phone, grabbed a Mountain Dew from the fridge on the way out the door, and as she’d told her father, forty-five minutes after she’d crawled out of bed, she was walking into the main reception area of Sniper 1 Security.

The place looked like a madhouse.

Everyone was there, racing around, talking, yelling…

“They’re in the conference room, waitin’ for you,” Jayden said, looking haggard for the first time in a long time.

Adrenaline crashed through Courtney as she double-timed it down the hall, eager to get to work. It’d been months since she’d been on an assignment such as this one. Most of hers—aside from the special situation with the Adorite family—were limited to bodyguard duty, but she welcomed this more.

The door to the conference room was open, so she walked in, grabbed a folder from the table before taking a seat at the back of the room, beside Z.

RT was at the front of the room going over the details. He merely nodded at her before he continued.

“Fiona Suarez is five years old,” RT explained, nodding toward a screen behind him. “Black hair, brown eyes, last doctor’s visit shows her at three feet four inches, forty-two pounds. She’s on the small side.

“She was last seen by her mother on Friday night when Fiona’s father came to pick her up for his weekend visitation. Ricardo Suarez, thirty-eight, stands five feet ten inches, weighs one hundred eighty pounds. He has a day job working in construction, but it’s no secret that he’s running drugs down near the border. Has ties to one of the cartels in Mexico.

“The little girl lives with her mother in San Antonio, father lives in Laredo. According to the mother, he’s always punctual, picking Fiona up every other Friday, delivering her back on Sunday night. The parents’ relationship is strained, but he’s good to Fiona, loves her.”

“Shit,” Trace grumbled from beside Courtney.

“My sentiments exactly,” RT said. “Based on what I’ve learned from Mrs. Suarez, it’s a real possibility that Ricardo has taken Fiona into Mexico, probably getting protection from the cartel.”

Courtney stared at the men around her, then looked back at the picture of the dark-haired little girl in the pink dress, big brown eyes peering back at the camera as though she didn’t have a care in the world. Her heart went out to the little girl, as well as the mother. If Fiona’s father had taken her and didn’t want her to come back, slipping into Mexico was an easy way to do that.

“I’ve got a couple of contacts in Mexico,” Z informed them. “I’ll reach out, have them put some feelers out. See if they can find anything.”

Courtney didn’t say a word as everyone talked over one another, tossing out ideas, coming up with a plan. They would head down to Laredo, talk to Ricardo’s boss, his co-workers, what little family he had. They were already at a disadvantage considering Fiona’s mother hadn’t realized she was missing until two days after she’d been taken—not until Sunday when she should’ve been returned home. And now … they’d tacked on an additional day because, according to the information in the folder, the police had told Fiona’s mother they couldn’t do anything since Ricardo had visitation rights. Since Fiona’s mother had informed the police that she did not believe her daughter to be in danger, they hadn’t issued an Amber Alert. Courtney was inclined to believe it had more to do with the drug cartel that they weren’t pursuing her as quickly as they should.

Shit.

This didn’t look good for Fiona.

“The police aren’t jumpin’ on this one,” RT continued. “The cartel has a stronghold on the border, and if Ricardo made it across, it’s gonna take some work to flush him out.”

Listening to the drone of voices filling the room, Courtney’s hands fisted in her lap. She knew what she had to do, knew who she had to reach out to. It would likely bring Fiona back to her mother sooner than they could on their own. Sniper 1 was good at what they did, but this… They were up against a timeline that was drastically tilted and not in their favor. Ricardo could have gone to ground at this point, hiding out with the little girl, hoping for enough time to pass that people stopped looking. Or hell, he could very well have disappeared entirely, foregoing Mexico and on his way to … anywhere.

“Court? You okay?” RT asked.

She quickly nodded, leaning forward. “I’ve got a contact. I’ll see if he can give me any information. Regardless, I’ll head down to Laredo, do some snooping.”

“I’m goin’ with you,” Z said firmly.

Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to say no, Courtney simply nodded. They didn’t do these jobs solo, at least not most of the time.

“Ricardo’s mother also lives in Laredo,” RT explained. “Talk to her first, talk to his friends, the other dealers. See if this was planned. Maybe Ricardo told her what he was gonna do. But be careful.”

“Will do,” Courtney said, peering over at Z. “I’ve got an errand to run. Then I need to stop at the house, grab a couple of things. I’ll meet you back here in three hours?”

“Roger that,” Z answered, his attention quickly turning back to RT.

Not wanting to waste any time, Courtney headed out to her car. Before she went home, she had one stop to make. And hopefully, if things went well, in three hours, a trip to Laredo wouldn’t be necessary.