Keeping Secrets (New Orleans Connection Series Book 4) by Kathy Ivan

Author:Kathy Ivan [Ivan, Kathy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: contemporary romance
Publisher: Ink Lion Books
Published: 2015-03-06T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Everybody was holed up in Maman's house, with Remy and him standing silent guard outside. Neither of them was armed. Connor was inside, trying in a vain attempt to keep everybody calm and establish some semblance of order.

Dammit, he hadn't expected to need firepower on his wedding day. This was supposed to be the happiest day of his life, marrying the woman he adored.

Instead, Hilliard's call changed everything. Even as they were loading him into an ambulance, he mustered enough strength to call, let them know Trejo was on the loose. An APB went out, but Trejo and his accomplices had disappeared. With a cop's instinct, Hilliard knew they'd be heading straight for his cousin, Connor.

Max couldn't be sure how much intel Trejo had on Connor's whereabouts, but if he'd had men on the outside, chances were damn good they'd been watching Connor, and knew where he was; at least, that's what he'd have done. Keep eyeballs on your prey, then swoop in for the kill.

Everybody said Mickey Trejo was crazy, but Max didn't think so. He was sharp, conniving, and knew how to manipulate the professionals; the lawyers and the shrinks. With Connor out of the picture, unable to testify against him, tell people of the atrocities he'd witnessed, there was a good chance he'd avoid the death penalty, maybe even be found not guilty by reason of insanity.

“Bro, you have any weapons inside?” Since Remy still stayed here occasionally, it was a longshot but worth asking.

“There's a hunting rifle in the front closet, with shells on the top shelf.”

“Let me see if dad can grab it.” Max started toward the kitchen door, but took no more than a step when he heard the distinct sound of a pump action shotgun being primed to his left. He frozen, swiveling his head to stare into the eyes of a stone-cold murderer.

Looking into Trejo's eyes was like staring into inky blackness. There was no spark of life there, only an overwhelming sense of evil in its rawest form. With exaggerated slowness, he raised his palms outward, displaying his lack of a weapon.

Trejo's dark beady eyes skittered from him to Remy, and a malicious grin twisted his ugly mouth.

“Hello again, rat bastard. I told you, you'd pay the next time we met. This is so nice, I don't even have to hunt you down.”

“Still as ugly as ever, aren't you, Trejo?” Remy's sarcastic wit was going to get him killed, and Max winced when Trejo raised the shotgun he held, pointing it at his brother.

“Wasn't looking for you, cop, but you’re a bonus. I'm gonna take out that bastard who had me arrested, and then you and I are gonna dance.”

“Not a chance in hell, Trejo. You're not my type.”

Trejo spat on the ground, a phlegmy cackle nearly choking him. He coughed and hacked a couple more times. Max wished he'd choke on his own bile, save them all a lot of heartache.

Trejo turned to his crew. “You see what I've

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