“Who can blame you for that?” I give her a smile. “But I don’t want any of mine. Not a cent.”

  “Even if it could help Falcon?”

  I bite my lip. “That’s a good question, and if I thought Falcon needed it, I would hand it over in a minute. But his family has their own money. Falcon has a trust fund that’s probably larger than mine.”

  “True. Leif tells me they’re heirs to the Cooper Steel fortune.”

  “They are. His grandmother passed away a little over a year ago. Everything went to her only son, Austin Bellamy, who’s Falcon’s father. Plus they have a lot of money from the ranch in their own right. They’ve got a huge operation, one of the biggest in Texas.” I frown. “You think Falcon is telling Leif the truth right now?”

  “I couldn’t say,” she says. “But I do know Leif can be very persistent. And very resourceful.”

  21

  FALCON

  Eight years earlier…

  It’s not an easy thing, withdrawing that much money in cash from a trust fund.

  And it’s not like a drug cartel on the border is going to take a cashier’s check.

  Funny thing about banks. They don’t keep millions of dollars in paper money sitting around. Lucky for me, I have contacts.

  The one person I know who will never let me down is my grandmother. Sandra Cooper Bellamy.

  I take a drive to the far side of our ranch, to her mega-mansion.

  My grandfather, Brick Bellamy, passed away a few years ago. Nana hasn’t remarried, and I doubt she will. She and my grandfather had one of those once-in-a-lifetime love stories. They were still holding hands in their sixties. It was equal parts cute and nauseating.

  I didn’t tell her I was coming because she would’ve asked why. Not that I need an excuse to visit Nana, but I didn’t want to have to say anything about this over the phone.

  I bring my car to a stop in the circular driveway that’s lined with majestic oak trees, parking behind Nana’s black Lincoln town car. Her driver, Jackson, is on call at all hours. Nana doesn’t go very many places anymore, so Jackson’s probably in his room in the mansion waiting for his phone to ring.

  The house itself is a sprawling mansion, the exterior designed from limestone. It’s warm and earthy tones are welcoming, as is the wide southern veranda with ornate columns and a spacious wrap-around porch, home to three porch swings. As kids, my brothers, sisters, and I spent many happy hours out here eating Nana’s homemade treats and washing them down with fresh lemonade. I broke the swings more than once, and each time, Pops threatened to whoop my ass, but he never did. Nana wouldn’t have stood for that, and Pops would do anything for the love of his life.

  I walk to the arched doorway and ring the doorbell.

  Nana’s housekeeper, Maybelle, answers. “Mr. Falcon,” she says.

  “Hi, Maybelle. I’m here to see Nana.”

  “She’s in her library, reading.”

  “Oh. She hates to be disturbed when she’s reading.”

  “She does, but you know she has a soft spot for you and her other grandchildren. I’ll be happy to disturb her.”

  “Thank you, Maybelle. I appreciate it.”

  She holds the door open for me and I enter the large foyer, adorned with marble floors and a crystal chandelier hanging from a high, coffered ceiling.

  To the left of the foyer is a sitting room where we kids were never allowed to go. I always longed to jump on the plush sofas and elegant armchairs, but now that I’m old enough to sit in the room, I have no interest in it. It’s too…formal.

  To the right is the dining room with a huge cherry table and sixteen chairs. Who the hell needs sixteen chairs?

  Maybelle clacks along the marble tiling and turns left down the hallway toward the library.

  Nana’s house is on the north side of Bellamy Ranch. I live on the east side of Bellamy Ranch. Nana is far away from the old barn near the border.

  A few moments later, Maybelle returns. “Go ahead into the library.”

  “Thank you again.” I stop, trying to keep my cowboy boots from making horrible noises on the marble.

  The house is decorated in a western Texas theme—lone stars, bluebonnets, and Texas landscapes everywhere. The oak double doors to Nana’s library are cracked open, and I knock softly and then enter. The walls of the library are lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and southwest artifacts and framed maps adorn the spaces between the books.

  I inhale the crisp scent of parchment and leather bindings. I love Nana’s library. We spent many happy hours in here as kids as she read to us from the classics—Robinson Crusoe, the Swiss Family Robinson, Oliver Twist.

  We were the best-read kids in Texas.

  My grandmother sits in a brown leather recliner, a book on her lap, spectacles on her nose, and a smile on her still beautiful face.

  “Nana?”

  Her eyes light up as she removes her reading glasses. “Falcon, darling. Come on in.”

  “I know you hate to be interrupted when you’re reading.”

  She closes her book and sets it on the oak table next to her chair. “Nonsense. I always have time for my favorite grandson.”

  It’s a joke. She says that to all of us.

  “I need your help.”

  “Of course. Anything.”

  I could beat around the bush, but Nana would hate that. “I need to get my hands on some cash. Large quantities of cash.”

  Her thin eyebrows shoot up. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “Trust me, I don’t either. And I can’t tell you why, Nana. I can only tell you that it’s very important.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble, Falcon?”

  “I’m not. I swear it.”

  I can’t lie to my grandmother, and I haven’t. I just hope she doesn’t ask me who’s in some kind of trouble.

  Watching one of her grandchildren go down would kill her.

  “How much do you need?”

  “I’m not actually sure of the amount. But I think a million will be enough.”

  Her mouth drops open slightly. “A million dollars?”

  Of course a million dollars, Nana. But I don’t say the words. I simply say, “Yes.”

  “That’s a lot of money, Falcon.”

  “I know. And I could take it out of my trust fund, but I’m not sure how I could get that much in cash.”

  Nana frowns and glances around the library. “And you know I keep cash on hand here.”

  “I do. Dad trusted me with that information when I turned twenty-one. I promise there’s a good reason for this. And I will pay you back out of my trust fund.”

  “I don’t need you to pay me back, Falcon. All I need is your promise that you will stay out of trouble.”

  How can I make that promise? I’m paying off a drug cartel.

  “Of course, Nana,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can. “I’ve always stayed out of trouble, haven’t I?”

  “Yes, you have.” She smiles and pats my hand. “You were always a good boy. You’ve always taken such good care of your sisters and brothers. Always been a good leader and a good example for them.”

  Yeah.

  I’m feeling like a big shithead.

  But she’s right when she said I always protect my sisters and brothers. That’s what I’m trying to do here. Hawk and I are the ones who flushed the cocaine. We had no idea Eagle was behind it.

  However, for all we know, Diego Vega could’ve had spies in the area. He may already know we got rid of it, and that’s why they’re threatening Eagle.

  No. If he saw us, he’d have come straight to us. He probably thinks Eagle took it and sold it himself, pocketing the money.

  Maybe this is all a test, because a couple hundred thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine is not a lot to someone like Diego Vega. If it had turned out to be a good place for a dead drop, that old barn would be filled with drugs buried underneath its surface.

  It’s a good thing Hawk and I found that shit. Otherwise God knows what would be stored on our property.

  Nana pushes a button on her intercom. “Lawrence?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Could you come to the library, please?”

  “Right away, ma’am.”

  Lawrence is Nana’s butler and close confidant.

  A moment later, he enters, clad in his tuxedo. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Close the door, please, Lawrence.”

  Lawrence does as he’s told, and then nods to me. “Mr. Bellamy.”

  “Hi, Lawrence.”

  “Falcon needs a million dollars in cash. Would you get it for him, please?”

  “Absolutely. Give me just a moment.”

  Lawrence leaves the room.

  Funny. I always thought Nana stored her hordes of cash somewhere in the library. Apparently I was wrong.

  Or if she does, she doesn’t want me to know about it. So she has another place, and Lawrence is getting it from there.

  I learned long ago to never underestimate my grandmother. She’s smart as a whip, and just as sneaky.

  Lawrence returns with a black duffel bag and hands it to me. “Mr. Bellamy.”

  “Thank you, Lawrence, and thank you so much, Nana. I’ll get the transfer started right away.”

  “Don’t worry about that, my sweetheart. I know you’re good for it. I have so much money, and this is nothing to me. I know you wouldn’t ask unless you had a good reason, Falcon. So please, just make sure my trust in you is not misplaced.”

  I rise, walk over to her, and kiss her wrinkled cheek. “It’s not, Nana. I promise.”

  I pick up the duffel bag, and then I walk out of the library. Lawrence follows me. When we get to the door, he touches my arm.

  “Yes?” I ask.

  “These bills are unmarked,” he says. “They can’t be traced back to your grandmother.”

  “Thank you for your discretion,” I say.

  Lawrence glares at me. “She’s an old and frail woman, Mr. Bellamy.”

  “She’s old, yes. I wouldn’t call her frail.”

  He steps toward me, lowering his voice. “She thinks she’s stronger than she is. Remember. I see her every day. I wait on her every day. I’ve watched her decline over the past couple of years. She loves you. She loves you and your brothers and sisters and your mother and father so much.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know.”

  “She believes in you,” Lawrence says. “But she’s blinded by her love for you. A grandson with a trust fund doesn’t just come in asking his grandmother for cash. If it were for anything other than nefarious purposes, you would’ve just gone to the bank.”

  I can’t fault his logic or his observation. He’s exactly right.

  “I won’t say anything to your grandmother, Mr. Bellamy. But know this. I love her as if she were my own mother, and I won’t allow anything to happen to her.”

  “You don’t love her any more than I do, Lawrence. But I appreciate your concern.”

  My grandmother’s ashes sit on my mantle.

  I suppose they should probably be at my parents’ house. My father was her only child, but I was lucky enough to get off on furlough for her funeral a year ago, and when I requested her ashes, my father simply nodded.

  He knew, as well as I did, that I held a special place in my grandmother’s heart as her first grandchild.

  And I knew, as well as he did, how she died very disappointed in me.

  I think back to that time, when I asked her for the money, and she didn’t bat an eyelash.

  She gave it to me, no questions asked.

  She believed in me.

  But Lawrence knew.

  He cared for her deeply, and he never told her. Then when I went down for manslaughter and got sent away to prison, my grandmother never came to visit me.

  My father told me she was just too old to leave the house, but I know better.

  She blamed herself. She felt that if she hadn’t given me that money, I never would’ve gone to prison.

  She’s wrong, of course. If she hadn’t given it to me, I would’ve gotten it somewhere else. It just might have taken longer because my father didn’t keep cash in the house the way she did.

  She was from a different era. She remembered when people didn’t trust banks.

  Leif and I haven’t talked much since the ladies went to make dinner in the kitchen.

  Instead, I’m standing in the family room, staring at the urn that contains my grandmother’s ashes that sits on my mantle in the family room.

  Dad held the ashes for me while I finished out my last year in prison, but it was the first thing I grabbed when I moved back into my house on the family property.

  “You called me over here for something,” Leif says. “So what’s with the silent treatment?”

  I suck in a breath, look away from Nana’s urn. “Just a lot to think about.”

  “I hear you, Falcon. I want to help you. I’m sorry about—”

  “Don’t. I don’t know why I got so bent out of shape about it. I mean, why would you change your plans just because I fucked up? So you went into the Navy without me. You served your country, and you didn’t visit me because you weren’t here.”

  “That’s not exactly true. I’ve been back in the US for the last two years.”

  He’s right, but I don’t say it.

  “You’ve got your demons,” he says, “and I’ve got mine.”

  Again I don’t say anything. There’s no need for a response.

  “So this thing with Savannah…” Leif begins.

  “What thing?”

  “I see the way you look at her, man. It’s the way I looked at Kelly when I met her.”

  “You think?”

  He smiles. “I know. Kelly was not easy to love at first, but I fell hard. And I’m seeing it in you.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not fit to be with someone like Savannah.”

  “Are you kidding? You’re perfect for Savannah.”

  “I’m an ex-con, Leif.”

  “And she’s a member of a crime family.” He chuckles softly. “It’s like it was written in the fucking stars.”

  “She’s my parole officer.”

  “Probably not for long.” Leif takes a seat on my leather couch. “Listen, I didn’t come here to give you a lecture, or to tell you to fall in love with this woman. I think that ship has sailed. I came here because you called me. You said you needed my help. And I want to help, Falcon. I do. But I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  “My Grandma Bellamy died a little over a year ago,” I say.

  “Yeah, I know.” Leif’s gaze shifts toward the mantle. “My mom and dad called me. I would have come to the funeral, but I was in the middle of some undercover work for the Wolfes.”

  “I got off on furlough. First time I saw the outside in seven years, and I’ve got to tell you, Leif, I was tempted…”

  “To make a run for it? Leave the country?”

  “Yep. I almost called you. I knew you were working for the Wolfes. My father told me. And I know the Wolfes can get things done.”

  “I’d have had your back.”

  “I wasn’t sure at the time. But I was fucked up. Seven years in the slammer will do that to you.”

  “I get it. My experience is way different, but I get it.”

  He’s trying to be understanding, empathetic. But he was serving his country. He came back a hero. A fucked up hero, maybe, but still a hero.

  I came back a fucked up ex-con.

  Huge difference.

  “So let’s be honest about one thing,” he says. “You need my help with the Savannah situation. So before we continue, you need to level with me. What are your feelings for her?”

  My feelings for Savannah…

  How do you describe the beauty of a Texas sunset? The pure sound of a child laughing?

  That joy you feel, except it’s more than joy. Words don’t exist.

  Savannah… Sweet Savannah, who doesn’t deserve the fate she was born into. She deserves so much more. She deserves everything.

  When I think about those two men coming for her, taking her…

  I curl my hands into fists as rage thunders through me.

  I know this rage. It’s the kind of rage I felt every time I heard Tommy Ortiz scream from his cell when Bruno violated him.

  The kind of rage I felt when the cops came after my littlest brother.

  The kind of rage I felt when I heard Raven—sweet Raven—was sick.

  The kind of rage I felt when I heard that Savannah was almost married off to some junior mob member of a rival family.

  Except quadruple it.

  Quintuple it.

  And then times that by infinity.

  That’s what I’m feeling now.

  Pure rage, but not toward Savannah.

  Toward anyone who might lay a finger on her.

  Leif wants to know what I feel for Savannah.

  I look him straight in his blue eyes. “I can only tell you this,” I say, my teeth clenched. “I would burn down the whole fucking state of Texas for her.”

  22

  SAVANNAH

  “Hey guys,” I yell from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

  Falcon and Leif traipse in a few minutes later. They both look…angry.

  I can feel the anger.

  Its malevolence is so thick I feel like if I brandished a knife I could slice right through it.

  But their anger’s not focused on each other, or on me or Kelly.

  It’s something bigger than that.

  “Hey.” Kelly slides her hand up Leif’s arm to his shoulder. “You okay?”

  He nods. “We’re fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “We’re good, baby. Just doing some talking. Catching up.”

  But Falcon doesn’t look good at all.

  He looks… I’m not sure.

  Then I know the exact word to describe his look at the moment.

  Savage.

 

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