Stolen Life (Beauty in the Stolen 2)

Worry about Banga doesn’t dissipate, but by ten Shona calls to let me know he’s going to pull through. Relief surges through me, not only because Banga is the best book cooker on the continent, but also because he’s like family.

I hang around with Cas in the morning, making sure she’s all right, but in the afternoon I leave her to nap with two armed men standing guard at the door while I go to the airport to collect the items I had flown in. One of them is a large box with Cas’s new clothes, and the small one is a gift. On my way home, I stop at the hardware store and buy a few pairs of gardening gloves.

As requested, Ruben’s weapon supplier is in when I get back. The smaller caliber pistols are laid out on the dining room table. I try to picture Cas’s small hands as I get a feel for each pistol in my palm. I want something that’s powerful enough to be deadly but small enough for her to keep steady.

I select a Star .55 caliber with a beautifully hand-carved, ivory shaft. The pistol is small and light enough to carry in a thigh holster or evening bag, but a bullet in the right body part will kill instantly. I throw in a hip, thigh, and ankle holster, as well as a few boxes of ammunition.

Ruben shakes his head as I pay for my purchases.

I give him a narrow-eyed look. “Is there a problem?”

He raises his hands. “No prob, man.”

If he still thinks Cas will shoot me in the back with the gun I’m planning on giving her, that’s his problem. I’m not exposing her to my world and claiming her in front of all the dangerous men we deal with without making sure she’s got her own protection.

When the dealer packs up and leaves, I get a beer from the bar fridge and twist off the cap. “If you’ve got something to say, lay it out now.” I tip back the bottle and take a sip. “I’ll happily take it outside.”

Ruben scratches his head. “The question I’m asking myself is what a girl like her is doing with a guy like you. Catch my drift?”

“No.” I put the bottle down harder than necessary. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”

“She’s not our type, Ian. A girl like her doesn’t look twice at scum like us. She’s not here because of your dick. She’s here because she’s a fucking snitch.”

I clench my jaw. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

“Just saying.”

“Stop saying.” My voice rises in anger. “I’ve fucking heard enough.”

“Okay.” Raising his hands again, he gives me a smirk and backs out of the room. “Your call, man.”

I watch him leave through slitted eyes. If he can’t deal with the way things are going, he can leave.

Cutting Ruben out will be complicated. One, we need his contacts, and two, he knows too much. If he leaves on unhappy terms, there’s always the chance he’d sell information to the highest bidder.

Yet Ruben isn’t a traitor. He’s loyal to the gang. He’s been our partner for as long as Leon and I have turned of legal age. The balance of our relationship has been upturned the day I chose Cas over them. I’ve always believed we’d eventually find our equilibrium again and go back to the way we were, but my gut tells me in Ruben’s book, three is company but four is a crowd.

Chapter 15

Cas

In the afternoon, Ian gets news that Banga is stable but will be kept in the ICU for a week to ensure no infection sets in. He needed skin grafts to repair the damage left by the baboon’s teeth. They gave him tetanus and rabies shots, and he’ll be kept on morphine and an IV for a couple of days.

I’m in the room, removing the bandages from my hands for the blisters to dry, when Ian arrives with a large box and five pairs of gardening gloves in different colors.

“For you,” he says, depositing the box on the chest.

I catch the pair of chunky, pink gloves he throws at me. “What is it?”

A smile flirts with his lips. “So you won’t get blisters when you dig up cabbage.”

“Not the gloves, although that’s very thoughtful, thanks. The box.”

“Your new clothes.”

I leave the gloves on the sofa. “Clothes?”

“The catalog I left.”

Walking over, I regard the box with surprise. “I didn’t order anything.”

“I told Shona to collect the catalog and Banga to order the stuff you checked.”

“Oh. I wasn’t planning on actually getting something. I was just killing time.”

He cups my hips and pulls me closer. “You deserve all the pretty clothes women like. This should fill about a quarter of your side of the closet. You still have three quarters to go.”

That makes me smile. For the first time since I left our farm, a sense of belonging takes root in my heart. I haven’t felt this way about any other place. It has more to do with Ian than the actual place, but I’m nevertheless giddy with happiness.