Page 18 of Lethal Justice

Fascinated, she watched him pummel the bag with even greater force, lust quickly mixing with admiration. When he moved and came into full view, Frida froze as her she caught sight of his right leg. The black sports prosthetic started below his knee and encased the limb before curving into some sort of blade. Even with this extension, he moved with lightness and purpose, much more than she would ever be able to do with both her limbs intact.

Her head pounded as more questions hit. Despite her initial intent to confront him, Frida felt foolish now. She was intruding on a man who had more layers than she’d initially thought, and he probably fought his own demons. Maybe hearing about her pain triggered something, maybe even PTSD, and he needed time to process. She was such an ass.

Deciding Malco needed this moment for himself, and that she would catch up with him later, Frida moved backward and turned away as silently as possible. Maybe she could call the Agency and have James come back and fetch her. She could see where Rina was and return to the center. Maybe talking to the kids again would bring forth more information.

She didn’t have time to take another step before she was body-slammed into the wall. Her ears ringing, a wide hand squeezed her neck for a second, making it hard to breathe until it relaxed enough to allow her to draw much-needed air. Her heart beating hard, her eyes went to the towering figure and she recognized Malco.

“Where the hell did you come from?” Her question felt dumb as soon as she asked it.

Malco was breathing harshly, his sweaty skin plastered against her, heat pulsing from him like a furnace. Frida expected him to step away, but he kept her prisoner.

“That’s my question. How did you get inside my home without setting off the alarm? What are you doing here?”

Anger was clearly etched on his face, and Frida felt even worse for intruding. “I’m sorry. You disappeared on me at the Youth Center, and I couldn’t find you.”

Malco immediately released her and retreated back into his home gym. Frida didn’t know what to do. Should she leave? Apologize again? Her body leaned toward the exit, but her stubbornness stirred her toward the man who was once more pounding the punching bag.

When she entered the room, Malco seemed even more enraged than before; the violence of it almost made her step back. He didn’t acknowledge her for a long moment, and she started to notice pain piercing through the fury. He fought like a man possessed, his harsh breathing turning into painful moans and half shouts until he threw his head back and roared like an animal.

Frida trembled, but felt like her feet were in cement, unable to look away from the man who was now pacing the length of the room.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this. I needed time to process what you said.”

Frida wasn’t sure what to say and forced herself to step forward. “I’m intruding. I’m sorry. But I had to know why you were so angry at me, why you left me there and called James.” She didn’t leave him time to answer. “My name change is official, and it’s the one I use everywhere and passed the bar with. I don’t really talk a lot about my past, about what my father did, it’s… people are quick to judge, and it always kills the mood. I would have gotten around to telling you, but I can’t change my past, and…”

“Stop!”

Frida jumped at his order and closed her mouth. He’d stopped pacing and was now six feet in front of her, standing straight in a military pose. It took a minute or so until he exhaled, and his body relaxed.

“I didn’t mean to shout at you. It’s just that this afternoon, figuratively speaking, you punched me in the gut. It’s not about your family being in an LA gang. It’s… Sometimes life is a fucking bitch, and plays the most awful tricks on people.”

As he talked, Frida saw his shoulders hunch a little, as if a heavy burden slowly settled in on him. “Shane assigned me your case because not only do I have a keen interest in the gang wars here in Miami, and those kids at the center, but because I, too, grew up part of a gang. Not to the extent you did, but my older brother and I were in deep at a young age. We knew nothing else and would probably still be there if it hadn’t been for Jay being killed by a rival gang. That was such a shock. I grieved for him deeper than I did for my mother.”

He shook his head and sighed. “I wanted to kill those bastards. All I could think about was revenge, but what could I do? I was just a kid, and without my brother, I was even more vulnerable. And then I remembered Jay always said that being in the gang was only a stepping stone to a better life. It was to honor his memory that I eventually joined the Green Berets because I knew how much he admired them. Life moved on, but I never forgot. The emotions just dimmed a little… until I heard the name Garroyo.”

Frida swallowed her throat dry as sand. Small threads of understanding started to link inside her brain, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for what would come next.

“My brother fell head over heels in love with a girl involved with the Dead Kings. He told me about her, and we dreamed up plans at night, so Jay and his girl could escape and be happy together. But things went south, and it nearly destroyed me. And you.”

He took a step toward her, and she took a step back as if to flee. This couldn’t be real.

“His sweetheart was Camilla Garroyo, and I remember she once told me she had a little sister and joked that I should hook up with her. I remember it made me blush. But I never thought in a million years I’d meet her until you said your name. I was taken back in time, all the sorrow, the pain, and the rage exploded inside me. I couldn’t contain it, and I didn’t want you to see. I had to get myself together.”

And for the first time, a tight smile came to his lips. “And you turn up here, and it’s worse. Not only was I losing my mind, but I wasn’t prepared for you to see…” And then he shook his prosthetic.

With this overload of information, Frida didn’t know which emotion to latch on to. Anger, sorrow, fear—all those feelings she’d felt as a tween when she was told Camilla had died came back. And all those sacrifices she’d made to avenge her sister. “Camilla told me she was seeing someone but was tight-lipped about who he was. She never said his name. Later, I couldn’t bring my father up on charges for Camilla or her boyfriend’s murder as their bodies had disappeared. I swear if I’d known, I’d have reached out to you.”

“I was overseas on a mission when you brought your father down. I was so fucking happy. It didn’t bring Jay back, but at least the Dead Kings were either rotting in jail or dead and wouldn’t hurt another family again. You’re the one I have to thank for that.”

Lightheaded, Frida took a couple of steps back until she leaned against the wall and then sank to the floor. She looked at her hands on her knees, lost for a moment. No wonder the guy had left if he’d experienced the same emotions she felt now. Life was a bitch, as he said. Couldn’t be truer.

Malco came forward, and then her eyes caught on his prosthetic before she looked up. “You’re wrong. I don’t care about your leg, except I know it caused you pain. I hate to think of you hurting.”

He towered over her for a second before sitting beside her on the floor. “You say that, but I’ve learned over the years that not all women are comfortable with a veteran, even less with an amputee. It generally turns them off.”

His tone turned a little sarcastic, and somehow, it lightened the mood. She elbowed him in the ribs. “It’s a lot to process… I don’t know what to think about everything, but as for your leg, it’s not turning me off, because I don’t get turned on or off by feet or legs. They’re not my fetish. That mouth of yours, though, that’s real sexy. I’m still tingly from this morning.”

Even if there was still a lot to discuss, at least they’d cleared the air.

Malco leaned a little closer, his eyes smoldering. His heated body was getting to her, and she knew they had come to an understanding when his lips pressed against hers in the sweetest kiss.

She regretted everything he’d suffered but knew they could only move forward. They weren’t kids anymore and they had the power to save those kids from the Youth Center and clean the crooked cops out of their city.