behind them.
He pulled Raven to his chest and held her in silence. What the chief said shocked him, the honesty of it. The man showed more of his cards and didn't cover up his obvious disdain for Captain Duarte. That made Christian worry all the more for Jasmine. Normally, the woman could take care of herself, but with Duarte, she'd be severely outnumbered.
This time, Jasmine may have met her match.
Perhaps Hector was right, age had caught up to her. Bianca hadn't heard much through the door. Either that or Hector had gotten better at keeping his secrets. With dust rag in hand, she emerged from the storeroom, keeping an eye on her nephew. In time he would tell her all she wanted to know. It was his way. And she was a patient aunt.
'You look happy.' She smiled at the handsome young man, her dead sister's son. 'Like a cat with a belly full of canary.'
Even in the pale light of the store, his dark eyes gleamed and he fought back a grin. His smile always reminded Bianca of his mother, her beloved younger sister Pilar.
Hector had been the product of an out-of-wedlock union with her sister never naming the father. So when a virulent cancer claimed Pilar's life ten years ago, Bianca took her son in and adopted him, giving him a name. She shamed the rest of her family into accepting Hector. Eventually, it worked. An uphill battle she hid from him.
When Hector came to work for her, he put in hours that would not hinder his schooling. Her offer had become more than an opportunity for employment and a means of support. The boy needed a woman's hand. Although Hector bore his grief like a man, at times he let his guard down enough to reveal the hurt eyes of a child. She had become a surrogate mother to him and had learned to read his moods.
Now, without being asked, Hector joined her and took up a cloth.
'Do my eyes deceive me? Hector Salvador stooping to do woman's work?' She shook her head and raised an eyebrow. 'To what do I owe this honor?'
One of her decanters of cemetery dirt was only half full. She'd grabbed the depleted jar and headed for the back room to fill it when her nephew opened his mouth.
'My luck is about to turn. I can feel it.' He teased. 'Maybe that talisman around your neck will bring us good fortune.'
Bianca fingered her talisman and rolled her eyes, but before she left, Hector grabbed her arm and kissed her cheek. The boy was devoted, but the sudden display of affection caught her off guard. Her cheeks bloomed with heat and she laughed out loud, stroking her fingers across her pearl necklace.
'Sometimes . . . you make me feel like a young woman, Hector.' She beamed, then furrowed her brow and waggled a finger at his mischievous face. 'But most days, you remind me that youth is wasted on the very young.'
Before she turned away, he called after her. 'Aunt Bianca?' His face turned serious. 'One day, I hope I can repay all you've done for me.'
For an instant they had a moment. He held her gaze without a wisecrack. And Bianca returned it with a mother's pride. Eventually she shrugged and smiled.
'You don't owe me anything, sweet boy.'
She fought a knot in the back of her throat. Before Bianca ducked into the stockroom, she glanced at Hector and caught his shy crooked grin, no doubt an asset when courting young ladies.
At the counter, Bianca poured herself a half cup of coffee, careful not to let Hector see. The boy worried she wasn't sleeping, and the caffeine wouldn't help. At her age, sleep was only a distant acquaintance, but a rich cup of coffee was an old familiar friend.
With the glass jar wedged in an arm, she enjoyed a few sips of coffee, her guilty pleasure. The storage door hissed closed behind her. She wandered to her desk and set down her cup, saving her indulgence for after her chore.
Bianca busied herself, scooping cemetery dirt into the decanter, careful not to lose any. To be careless would be disrespectful. Worse, she believed it would bring bad luck. She barely heard the bell tinkle overhead. Someone had entered the front door to the shop.
Voices muffled. Angry voices.
She turned her head and listened, sure she had misunderstood. When the noise continued, she pulled the light string over her desk and the storeroom turned pitch-black. Bianca couldn't wait for her eyes to acclimate to the dark. She held her hands out in front of her, trying to find the door. A small pinpoint of light from the peephole guided her. At the door, she stood on tiptoe and squinted, clutching her Ayza talisman and holding her breath as if someone might hear her.
Before she got a good look, something heavy hit the storeroom door.
In a panic, she almost fell backward.
'Oh, my God.'
Cowering, Bianca covered her mouth to stifle a scream. Her heart hammered her ribs and chills ravaged her skin. She worked up the courage to take another peek—for Hector's sake. What she saw stole her breath.
'Hector,' she sobbed, her voice a raspy whisper.
CHAPTER 16
A bald-headed thug had cold-cocked Hector. A savage blow. Now he yanked him off the floor by the collar. Seeing stars, Hector was too weak to fight. He felt a warm stream roll down his chin and smelled blood. Tears of pain flooded his eyes.
'Anyone ever tell you to mind your own business,
He fell against the storeroom door, jamming an elbow. A jolt of pain shot through his arm and he slid to the floor. This time, the bastard nearly dislocated his jaw, loosened a tooth. His face felt on fire.
Cold dead eyes stared back. He would find no mercy. Fear gripped him. Aunt Bianca hid behind the door he'd fallen against. He felt her presence and prayed these men would not search the store. If they found her, she would not survive such treatment.
'Not so simple, asshole. You should've followed your own advice and stopped before you got involved.'
'Involved in what?' he pleaded, spitting blood. 'What are you talking about?'
The man rolled Hector on his belly and rammed a knee into the back of his neck. Yanking his arm back, the jerk almost separated his shoulder. When he felt the handcuffs slammed to his wrists, Hector's eyes grew wide.
'You guys are cops?' He raised his voice, a warning for his aunt. 'But I didn't do anything wrong. Why am I being arrested?'
The three men were dressed like a street gang. He thought they would rob him. None of them looked like military police. Now all the rumors of men disappearing off the streets flooded his mind. Cops had been rumored to be behind the conspiracy. His stomach lurched. He fought back the urge to throw up. He'd brought this on himself, with his grand scheme for money and taking care of his aunt as the man of the house.
