Page 14

FOURTEEN

B ryce closed his locker. Finally, an uneventful shift. Usually he liked the action, but lately it was hitting too close to home. So he’d take a quiet day shift and leave knowing his crew was safe for another day after all the explosions and injuries. They’d taken turns checking in on Ridge since he was recuperating from his broken leg.

Izan walked in. “Hey, you doing anything right now?”

“Why? Wanna grab a bite?”

“Totally, because whatever Stephens calls that stuff he makes, it’s not food.” Izan unbuttoned his uniform shirt. “But first, I was wondering if you’d spot me on something.”

“What’s up?”

“Remember that break-in? I was wrong. Something was taken. Some of my dad’s letters.”

“What letters?”

“You know, my biological dad. Those letters your mom gave me from him that he wrote in prison before he died. Most I have at my bank in a safety deposit box, but I kept a few at the apartment. They’re gone.”

“Why would someone take those letters?”

“Before he died, Sosa was looking for his stolen money. If anyone made the connection that my real father was Sosa’s accountant, they might be resuming the search where Sosa left off when he was shot. It’s the only thing I can come up with, because whoever it was went through a lot of trouble to get the letters from my apartment.”

Bryce’s gut twisted. Sosa had caused a lot of havoc and turmoil. But he was dead. So who was this new threat? “So where are you going tonight?”

“Back when I was trying to figure out who my real father was, before I realized who Sosa was and everything, I got involved with some shady people. I had to pretend to be one of them.”

“What does that mean?”

“I kinda started dating this girl. Maria. She knew who the players were.”

“So you used her.”

“Hey, I treated her well. Better than any of her other boyfriends. And we left on good terms. But either way, she lives in a rougher part of the city. If I’m gonna go there and see what she knows, I’d prefer to have someone watching my back.”

“I’m in.” ’Cause no way would he let a friend go in there unprotected. And maybe a little adrenaline rush would keep his mind busy enough that it would stop thinking about Penny Mitchell and where Bryce had gone wrong. Especially the Penny Mitchell that played catch with kids and took the whole team out for ice cream after practice.

Bryce and Izan crossed a parking lot dotted with potholes. The stairwell reeked of pot. Exiting onto the second floor, the smell wasn’t much better as they knocked on a door. A television show in a different language sounded through the walls. Somewhere down the hall a baby cried. Izan pounded on the door a second time.

“’Ria! It’s Izan.”

Bryce kept an eye on the hallway.

Finally, the click of the locks and the knob turning sounded.

“Izan? What are you doing here? And who’s that?” Dark eyes probed from the crack of the doorway.

“It’s a friend. Can we come in?”

Maria stuck her head out and looked down the hallway herself before opening the door wider and letting them in. The apartment was tiny, worn, but clean. Izan’s ex had long black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. She wore jeans and a light-pink T-shirt, her arms folded across her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“This is Bryce, by the way.” Izan flashed her a dimpled grin. One all the ladies at the station teased him about. “You look good. Healthy.”

“I am. Over a year sober now. And I’m going back to school.” She pointed to a stack of textbooks on the tiny dining room table.

“That’s awesome. I always said you were smart. You’re probably getting straight A’s.”

Maria blushed. “Enough with the flattery, Iza. What are you here for?”

“Someone broke into my place. They took letters from my biological father. I was wondering if you still ran with that crew from when we were together. If you heard anything.”

She shook her head and looked worried. “I had to cut ties with all of them. You were right. They weren’t great friends. I left that scene not long after we broke up.”

“So you don’t know what they’re up to?”

“I mean, I still hear things, but it’s ridiculous stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like Sasha saying Diego Ruiz Sosa is back from the dead.” She rolled her eyes.

Bryce bristled at that name. “No way. I watched him get shot. Right after he had my sister kidnapped and she almost drowned.”

Maria narrowed her eyes. “Who are you again?”

“Izan’s friend.” He took a step closer. “Who is saying Sosa is still alive?”

“My friend has a cousin who works at the Riviera Club. She said there’s talk. That’s all it is, right? I mean, you saw him die. So why should it matter?”

Because most of the time, rumors had a seed of truth in them. Bryce wasn’t going to let any potential threat to his family go unheeded. He knew what happened when people ignored the warning signs.

“What d’ya say, Collins? Wanna go check out the Riviera Club?” Bryce asked.

“Sure thing.”

Maria stepped forward and tugged at Izan’s arm. “Be careful. I know Sosa is dead and all and I haven’t seen you in a couple years, but…”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be careful. And you’ll let me know if you hear anything else? Especially about Sosa or my letters?”

She nodded. He scribbled out his number on a slip of paper by her books. “This is my cell. If you need anything, you call. All right?”

She kissed him on the cheek and they left.

“What do you think that was all about? Sosa back from the dead?” Bryce asked as soon as they were back in the car.

“Dunno, but I’m sure as heck gonna go find out. That club is where Maria’s old crew used to hang. It makes sense that if anyone knows anything, we might find out there.”

They drove in Bryce’s truck to the club. Dancing lights lured them in from the dark parking lot, promising fun and a good time. The loud bass thrummed through their bodies as they approached the door.

Once inside, Bryce had to practically yell in Izan’s ear to be heard. “I didn’t even know this place existed.”

“Not surprised. This is what you call real music. Not that country twang you play.” Izan bopped to the Latin beat of the music as they walked farther in.

They gave drink orders to the guy behind the bar. Izan’s feet couldn’t stay still. The man had rhythm—even if the music wasn’t something Bryce would ever voluntarily play. Bryce focused on scanning the room. The dance floor strobe lights made it difficult to see faces clearly. They were going to have to do a lap around or something to get a good look at people.

“Recognize anyone?” Bryce asked as he took a long drink.

Izan shook his head. “Not yet.”

They leaned against a tall table off to the side of the room. “But you better loosen up or you’re gonna scare everyone away.”

“What?”

“Loosen up. What’s the deal? I thought this was your kind of scene. Drinks. Ladies. Dancing.” Izan put his drink down and started swinging his hips to the music. A trio of girls in skintight clothing, long elaborate fingernails and their own drinks in hand, surrounded Izan and drew him out to the dance floor.

If one could call that dancing. Give Bryce a honky-tonk any day. He was pretty sure his body did not bend and flex enough for the moves Izan was putting on. Obviously his Mexican heritage was coming through despite having been raised by the Collinses, who’d adopted him at the age of four.

Besides, kinda hard to loosen up with this stupid rumor of Sosa bringing all his senses to alert. Just when his father had gotten used to a new nurse after his other one had been murdered, Andi and Jude were settling down, and now this?

But Izan might be right. Bryce probably shouldn’t scowl as he studied the room. He relaxed his face, smiled at a woman off to the side who was looking his way. But it was too dark to see across the room or in the shadowed booths along one side. And was that—? The man in the opposite corner of the room stood, his back to Bryce. But he had the right build, dark hair. A bulkier guy in a suit moved behind the man and blocked the view.

No. Sosa was dead. There was no way?—

Izan’s phone flashed as he took a selfie with the girls. Good idea. Maybe Bryce could try taking some video, pretend he was FaceTiming or talking to someone. He took out his phone. A flash would be too obvious. He tried for video, using the settings on his phone to compensate for the low light conditions.

“Hey, wanna dance?” A woman…a very young woman with curly brown hair, a low-cut flowy tank, and jeans stepped in front of him, taking up the whole screen.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I’m not much of a dancer.” At least, not this kind of dancing.

“That’s too bad. Maybe I could keep you company? Buy you another drink?”

He stopped the recording on his phone. He hadn’t even finished what was in his glass. But he was never one to turn down a lady brave enough to go after what she wanted.

Usually.

This time, it just didn’t sit the same. He wasn’t flattered. No rush of attraction or anything. And she was pretty.

But he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry. I appreciate the offer…I just…”

She smiled. “I’m not her.”

“Her who?”

“There’s someone else you want to be with.”

Okay, yeah. There was. Because it didn’t matter how pretty this girl was or how evocatively she swayed to the music. She wasn’t Penny.

He glanced down and then smiled sheepishly at her. “You’re right. No offense.”

“None taken.” She glanced behind her toward the door and then turned a seductive eye on him. “But if you ever want to try to forget her”—she ran a finger down the length of his chest—“you know where to find me.” This time she walked away, and he lost her in the crowd.

“Who was that?” Izan grinned as he grabbed his drink.

“No clue. I’m gonna walk around and see what I can see. Find anything out?”

“I don’t recognize anyone from that old crew.”

“You think Maria was telling the truth?”

“Why would she lie? She said it was only something she heard.”

“Maybe she wanted to rile us up. Lead us on a wild-goose chase or something.” The lights and music were getting to him. He tried to stretch his neck to the side and release the tension there. It didn’t help. “I’ll take a look around, and then I’ll be ready to leave.”

Bryce took the roundabout way, skirting around the dancing crowd and sticking to the edges of the room. He studied each person, but no one looked like the dead man, Sosa. By the time they left, he had a full-blown headache and not even a good time to show for it. He dropped Izan off and then went back to his own apartment.

He swallowed some painkillers and scarfed down a quick sandwich before he lay down. All he could see as he stared at the ceiling was Penny. Memories marched through his mind. Teaching her how to two-step. The way she’d throw her head back and laugh. Watching her show a little blonde girl on the team how to swing a bat. It stirred so much longing inside he could hardly breathe.

Okay, so fine, everyone was right. He’d fallen hard and fast for Penny Mitchell, and she still had some kind of hold on him.

The question was, what could he do about it?