Blood Line (A Tom Rollins Thriller Book 1) by Paul Heatley (book recommendations based on other books .txt) 📗

Anthony’s jaw works. He looks like he has something he wants to say, but is having trouble getting the words out. He clears his throat, spits to the side. “Thank you for what you did,” he says. “I’d rather have done it myself, but I thank you regardless.”

Tom nods.

“But you can’t fight all my battles for me forever,” Anthony says. “You’ve done that long enough now.”

“And I won’t,” Tom says. “This was as much for Alejandra as it was for you.”

“Oh, I know that,” Anthony says, a knowing look in his eye, something almost aggressive.

Jeffrey comes out onto the porch with Sylvia. “Well, look who’s back,” Jeffrey says. He comes down the steps, embraces Tom. “You gonna come on inside?”

“Sure,” Tom says. “But I can’t stay for long.”

“I figured as much,” Jeffrey says. “We’ve seen your pretty face plastered all over the news. Guess that was what took you so long getting back to us, too.”

“I like the beard, Tom,” Sylvia says.

Inside the house, the first thing Tom notices is the urn on top of the fireplace. The Polaroid picture propped in front of it, almost like a small shrine. In the picture, Alejandra is smiling. It’s just her in the shot, no one else. The urn contains her ashes, Tom knows. “You went to get her,” he says.

“We did,” Anthony says behind him. “Wasn’t anyone else could claim her.”

Tom turns to him. “What you planning on doing with the ashes?”

“What do you mean?” Anthony says, striding across the room and leaning against the fireplace, almost protective.

“Well, where you gonna spread her?”

“I ain’t,” Anthony says. “I’m gonna keep her. I’m gonna keep her with me.”

“All right,” Tom says. He hesitates. “It’s just that she told me she always wanted to go back to Mexico. She wanted to be buried there. She wanted to be buried there; I’m pretty sure she’d want her ashes scattered there, too.”

Anthony grits his teeth. “She never told me any such thing.”

“She told me she tried to. You just didn’t wanna hear it.”

“I ain’t got any memory of that.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Tom says.

“I know,” Anthony says, looking annoyed. “And that’s what pisses me off. She’d tell you that, but not me.”

Tom tries to calm the situation down. “You weren’t going off to war, Anthony,” he says. “Ain’t like talk of death came up in everyday conversation between the two of you, I’m sure.”

“She’s staying right here,” Anthony says.

“Sure, I just think you should honor her wishes, is all.”

Jeffrey and Sylvia stand between the two brothers, clearly uncomfortable.

“This urn is all I’ve got left of her,” Anthony says. “It’s all I’ll ever have of my kid. I ain’t throwing them away like that. I ain’t parting with them.”

“Then compromise,” Tom says. “You keep half. I’ll take the other half down to Mexico, do as she wanted.”

“Oh, you will, will you? Such a hero, ain’t you, Tom? Everyone’s fuckin’ hero. America’s fuckin’ hero, according to the news. ’Cept they don’t even know your name! They don’t know what you done in Harrow, neither. They don’t know why you done it. But I know it, Tom.” He jabs a thumb back into his own chest. “I know exactly why you did it. Because you were in love with your own brother’s girlfriend. You were in love with the mother of my child.”

He’s not leaning on the fireplace anymore. He’s coming forward, across the room, his eyes filled with menace. Jeffrey holds out an arm to stop him, but Anthony bats it aside, never taking his attention off Tom. “The ashes ain’t going anywhere. Not half of them, not a quarter of them, not even a fuckin’ eighth of them, that clear? They’re staying with me. Wherever I go, they go. This is my family. They weren’t nothing to you, you get it? You mighta loved her, but she didn’t love you! She loved me! They were my family, not yours!”

“Calm down, Anthony,” Tom says, standing his ground.

“Fuck you, calm down!” Anthony says. “You oughtta leave. You oughtta get the hell out of here right now.”

“I’m going to say my goodbyes.” Tom’s eyes flicker to the urn.

“What, to her? Get out! You ain’t saying nothing to her! Get outta here!”

Anthony tries to push Tom. Tom shoves his hands aside. Anthony takes a swing. Tom easily blocks it. He ducks the next.

“Anthony, stop it!” Sylvia says.

“That’s enough, now,” Jeffrey says.

Anthony throws another punch. Tom catches it.

“Well?” Anthony says, unable to extricate his fist from his brother’s grip. “What you gonna do? You gonna hit me? Come on, hit me. Hit me.”

Tom doesn’t hit him. He lets go of his fist, pushes it back into his chest.

Anthony looks like he’s going to swing again. Jeffrey gets in between them, forces him back. “That’s your brother, damn it,” he says. “You need to calm your ass down.”

“Anthony, please,” Sylvia says. “This isn’t what she would have wanted. And think of your head. It ain’t fully healed.”

They back him up, force him through into the next room to calm him.

Tom is alone.

He goes to the fireplace, to the shrine. The door is closed to the kitchen, where they have forced Anthony. Tom can hear him shouting, cursing, demanding to be let out.

Tom looks down at the Polaroid. Alejandra is smiling. She’s smiling back at him.

He stares at the picture.

He stares at the urn.

He can hear his brother calming, the shouting subsiding. They will return soon. They’ll be back in here, with him, with the urn, with the picture.

Tom pockets the Polaroid, slides it in next to his Santa Muerte pendant. He picks up the urn. He leaves the house.

He will go to Mexico.

He will spread her ashes.

He can deal with the consequences later.

WRONG TURN

If you enjoyed Blood Line you’re going to love the next book in the series, Wrong Turn.

A lost town controlled by a ruthless family. Now one man stands against them.

Fugitive ex-special forces operative, Tom Rollins, is en route to Mexico when he