The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set (38 page)

“Almost,” he muttered while methodically replacing his belongings into the compact case. Everything was placed carefully and neatly.

“Gio left for the hospital?” he asked, snapping the lid shut.

“Yeah, he took Ronnie over there now. Said to tell you have a good flight,” Blaze responded, still standing in the doorway.

He and Andreas would make this trip home alone. Gio would wait until their other brother Nikko, the youngest, was released from the hospital. It had been the first time any of them had been injured while working a case. Luckily, Nikko had pulled through with no complications resulting from his gunshot wound. It had been a clean shot through the shoulder.

“It’ll be good to get home. These damn black flies here in Maine. Shit, I look like I’ve got chicken pox.”

Andreas laughed even though his face didn’t look like he found it amusing. “You’re just so sweet,” he teased his younger brother.

Andreas was thirty-four, and Blaze was nearly eight years younger at twenty-eight.

“Ha ha,” Blaze mocked deadpan. Although Andreas was the most serious of the four Marinos, Blaze was a very close second. “Well, I can’t wait to get back to Florida. I’ll take the sunshine any day.”

Zipping the second case closed, and grabbing the handle, Andreas finally turned to face his brother looking down on him. They were alike in so many ways. Andreas’ dark brown hair was cropped short though, military short. Blaze pushed back his black hair away from his eyes. He liked to keep his a little longer. A different generation, he guessed.

“I’ll feel better when Gio and Nikko return; we’ve got business back home to take care of.” Andreas began to sweep the room one final time while Blaze remained standing, waiting.

“Yeah, me too. I’m tired of twiddling my thumbs and playing chauffeur to Ronnie. She’s nice and all, but damn, Nikko will have his hands full with her.”

Unlike Gio, who would have made a crack about the size of her breasts, Blaze was simply referring to the girl’s personality. Nikko had fallen in love with Ronnie; she was also the reason he got shot, and she was the last case they worked on. He did like the girl, but falling for a bounty, well, that had just made the case even more precarious. It was bad for business too, he thought wryly. But, he had to admit she was a good girl and would make a nice addition to their small family. She could also keep his younger brother in line like no one else. They were perfect for each other.

“She loves him,” Andreas replied, making a sour face.

Andreas didn’t believe in love. At least not for him—not anymore. The man kept one hell of a thick layer of ice around his heart when it came to the ladies, and Blaze was like him in this way too.

Gio was the comic relief in the family, and Nikko, well, he had been the playboy. That’s not to say the other Marinos weren’t able to find willing partners when they wanted too. They were all tall, dark, and devastatingly handsome. They all had the Marino blue eyes, and roman features inherited from their Italian ancestors.

Andreas grabbed his kit, containing his tools of the trade in the bounty hunters business, and whipped it over his shoulder even though it may have weighed forty pounds. He had almost everything he needed in it, all except guns. He hadn’t been able to fly with those, and they were flying commercial on the way home.

“The doc said Nikko would probably be released in a few days, so I expect they’ll all be joining us soon. Let’s go.”

He took one last look around to ensure he hadn’t accidentally left something in the suite, and was satisfied he hadn’t. His only regret was leaving his gun. He had more at home, but he hated leaving this one behind. The local cops had threatened his license when they found out the men brought weapons into the state. Very illegal, and he had known that. But when he thought his brother and the woman he loved was in danger, well, he had thrown caution to the wind, and they all carried a piece and an extra for Nikko on the private plane they chartered coming here. Detective Alexander, the cop assigned to their last case, promised to bury the reports and see what he could do to get their weapons back to them. Andreas hoped so—the thirty-eight special had been his Father’s.

*     *     *

As soon as
the plane hit the ground, Andreas and Blaze were up and moving. They grabbed their bags, and the kit containing their tools of the trade sans the weapons, and passed the few people from first class who had been able to exit the plane before them. They descended the escalator at Tampa International Airport, and walked straight outside where cars waited in an orderly fashion to pick up arrivals.

The four Marino brothers had been living in Florida for nearly two years, and Blaze loved it all. A blast of sunshine hit him as soon as the glass doors slid open, and despite the wall of heat, Blaze was glad to be home. The sun, the beach, and the girls in bikinis when he had the urge, all appealed to him. New York, although it held fond memories from his childhood, before his parents were murdered, had too many other memories—bad ones, for him. Tampa had been a fresh start in many ways, and it hadn’t just been the climate that changed for him. It had been his career, his lifestyle, and his attitude.

The brothers founded Marino Bros. Bail and Bonds. They were doing well. With his law degree and police training, he was well suited for the job, the paper work, and the legal issues. His elder two brothers had been detectives in New York when they made the move, experts in undercover work as well. Then, when his younger brother decided to enter the police academy after his graduation with a degree in forensic sciences following in their footsteps, and those of their father before them, Andreas had called them all in for a family meeting. He wanted out of New York. At first he and Nikko had balked, but Gio was on board with Andreas. It was two to two.

When Nikko graduated from the academy, Andreas announced the new business was a go, he already brought a property in West Tampa, and he was planning on leaving in a few months. It took six months, but eventually Blaze came around too. With the three oldest on board, all burned, all ready for a change, it was only Nikko who was still reluctant, but knowing the four brothers were practically all each other had he finally succumbed. An aunt in Florida and a cousin was the only family they had, and that was it. When their Aunt Mary was having health issues, and their cousin, Victor going through his own troubles, the decision was made. It was time to circle the wagons.

The business had taken off immediately. With each of them having their own expertise, they had done well. Nikko, although not having much field experience, had the gift of gab and charm, and had been able to land them several high profile cases.

They hadn’t needed any other employees other than a receptionist/accountant. Andreas had hired a spitfire Italian woman, another New York transplant who lived in the area with her husband and three children, whose mind was sharp as a tack. She was like a mother hen to them, although only in her forties. Not only did she run the office, she gave them advice, and made sure they went for check-ups, and even made their dental appointments. She was a true gift. Her name was Angela, and she kept the books in order, and ran the office as smooth as butter as she liked to put it.

And there she was, Angela, waving at them, standing on the running boards of one of the company SUVs to pick them up from the airport.

“Ang,” Andreas nodded at her, approaching the vehicle and popping the hatch on the back, placing his bags inside.

“Nice to see you too,” she answered smartly, rolling her eyes at the grumpiest of the Marinos. Although he hired her, she couldn’t be anyone but herself. Their relationship at work was professional, but Angela was the only one who ever called him on his temper. She was perfect.

“Hey, Angela,” Blaze offered much more enthusiastically. “What’s doing?” he asked as he handed his bag off to Andreas and approached Angela giving her a warm kiss on the cheek.

“It’s been crazy actually,” and at Andreas’ scowl, she quickly added, “but nothing I couldn’t handle until this morning.”

Blaze climbed into the back seat watching his brother come round to the passenger side. Angela returned to the driver’s seat and immediately pulled out into traffic. Airport traffic cops were eyeballing them and they needed to move out of the pick-up line. “What’s going on?” Andreas asked once his door was shut.

Angela wasted no time in answering Andreas, but not before reminding them both to buckle up. “We got another runner.”

“Fuck,” Andreas sputtered angrily. “We just got back.”

“I’m sure the skipper didn’t realize that,” was Angela’s quick retort. It was Andreas’ turn to roll his eyes.

“I’ll go,” Blaze offered even though he’d been hoping to get a little R & R, and soak up some sun. The damn black flies in Maine had tortured him, but he resisted scratching. He had nothing if not good self-control.

“Let’s see what it is first,” Andreas called over his shoulder to Blaze in the back seat.

Blaze grunted his reply.

“You want me to drop you off at home first, meet me back at the office in an hour? I’ll get all the paperwork ready,” Angela asked, pulling onto the highway.

“Sounds good,” Andreas muttered absently pulling out his phone checking his mail. “Let’s roll!”

“I’m already rolling,” Angela murmured sarcastically under her breath. She glanced at Blaze in the back seat and winked at him. He gave her a sparkling blue wink in return. They adored her, even Andreas, though he pretended otherwise.

Angela liked them all too. Blaze was special to her. He reminded her of her own son. He was so serious too. Too serious.

Falling Apart at the Seams

B
ella walked into
her mother’s room softly not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping. The lights were dim, the way her mother liked it. Not dark, but dim. Bella heard her coughing, wheezing, trying to get air and rushed to her bedside. Her mom had inoperable stage four lung cancer. It was the only reason Bella had made bail in the first place. She was the only one left to care for her.

Bella was heartbroken. She and her mom had moved to Spring Hill four years ago when she was just twenty to be near their aunt. When her mother was diagnosed with cancer, her aunt convinced them Florida would be better for her health, and she would be able to assist in her care. That was her Aunt Jocelyne. She’d been killed in a freak car accident last year; hit by a drunk driver at eight in the morning walking her dog. After Jocelyne’s death, Bella’s mom had given up the will to fight. She had been in remission for two years, and then her blood work had shown the cancer was back. They had tried chemo and radiation, but she couldn’t tolerate it anymore. Three months ago, the doctors told Bella to take her mother home and make her as comfortable as possible. In patient hospice wasn’t an option; the cost was outrageous and her mother didn’t qualify for any medical assistance. She was home now, where she wanted to be.

The nurse who came that afternoon told Bella the narcotics had worked for a while, but now the doctor ordered concentrated morphine to keep her mother comfortable. She instructed Bella how to administer the drug and placed a scopolamine patch behind her mother’s ear. It would take at least four hours to begin to work but it would help with the rattling of fluid in her mother’s throat and prevent her from aspirating it into her lungs. The nurse was kind and patted Bella’s hand, telling her it wouldn’t be long now.

Bella’s mother had been lucid enough to hear most of the conversation and waved her hand as the nurse tried to give her the first dose of the new medication.

“Later tonight,” she choked out. “I need to talk with my daughter.”

Respecting her wishes, the nurse left Bella with the instructions and told her to call if there were any changes. She said good-bye to both of them and left quietly.

Bella wasn’t even thinking about the trial, just weeks away. Her lawyer was a public defender, and she didn’t have much faith in him. All their money and resources were needed for her mother’s comfort and care. As far as Bella was concerned, she wasn’t worried about her own future. If she lost her mother, she had nothing left anyway. Her life was unravelling at the seams.

Bella tiptoed into her mom’s room. Her mother had been beautiful once. Still was, but her pallor and weight loss revealed just how sick she was. Only her blue eyes, the color of cornflowers looked the same, just duller. Her hair, like Bella’s, had been shiny, a glimmering cascade of chestnut waves; it had grown back, but never was the same. It lacked the luster and had come back in patches. Her mom kept it shorter, in a bob, but no longer bothered to color it to keep the gray at bay. She was just fifty, but the cancer had aged her. Her skin had lost its rosiness, and a permanent greyness had settled in. Her skin looked taut against her sharp cheekbones due to the drastic weight loss as well.

Even though she hadn’t had any chemo therapy for nearly a year, the drugs she took to control the pain kept her sleeping.

Her mother’s eyes were open, so her tiptoeing had been in vain. “Momma?” she questioned.