Page 1 of Carlos

PROLOGUE

Steel,

Fuck, man, if you’re reading this then something happened to me. Christ, I hope I go out swinging. Definitely sucks that I survived overseas only to kick it when I’m finally home. Truth is, I need a favor and it’s not an easy ask. I don’t know when you’re reading this if I got my rockers yet. Still, I hope you’ll grant it. If not for me, then for them.

Her name is Actually, I’m not going to write it down. Just in case. She needs your help, Steel. The law says she’s wrong, but how can she be wrong when what she did was right? I wasn’t there to protect her when she needed it. I could only help her afterwards.

The identity I gave her is solid. She and her son need a home. If I’m gone, then they can’t stay where they were and she knows it. I’ve given her your name. The police will be after her. If she got to you through our escape plan, she’s clean. If not, they’ll come for her.

Look up the name Davis Rutterson. You’ll understand. I swear to you, she’s worth fighting for. The boy deserves to grow up with his mom at his side, not behind bars.

I have an account. It’s different than the one for my grandfather’s care. Please make sure she gets it. If she can’t stay with you, please get her to someone else who can ensure her safety.

I owe you. I don’t know how I’m going to pay it back since apparently I’m either incapacitated or dead. Figure it out and let me know.

Conner

PS—You told me years ago that a victim should never have to pay the price for defending their right to live. I hope you still believe that. She needs you, Steel. She deserves to have a life away from pain and violence.

CHAPTER 1

Deputy Sheriff Carlos Santiago stared up at the building before him with a feeling of trepidation. So much had changed in six months. Had it only been February when he’d last partied with the Via Daemonia, celebrating Bear and Tessa’s re-wedding? How had so much changed in so little time?

He was man enough to admit that a good part of that change was himself. He thought he could live with the decisions he’d made guilt-free, but his conscience was coming back to haunt him. There would be pandemonium, chaos, and anarchy without the law. He knew this better than anyone as a cop. Carlos believed that, even if some laws were out of date or inaccurate, they were just.

Until that night.

That April night over a year ago. Ohiopyle.

Carlos closed his eyes and internally winced.

The horrors of that night should have vindicated the vigilante justice. All those women. Those two little girls. Madison Mitchell.

His heart and head screamed that whatever his brother and the Via Daemonia had done to Mark Connelly and his accomplice was justified. He knew Madison. He knew her parents. Because of the Via Daemonia, she was now about to start her sophomore year of college. She was happy, alive, and thriving. She hadn’t been sold to become some deviant’s sex slave.

But his soul? It felt stained. Like he’d dishonored the badge he cherished since he’d earned it at eighteen years old.

Carlos had been thirteen when his mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer and his piece of shit dad had decided that in sickness and in health was not a worthy vow to keep. His older brother, José, had joined the Army to get a solid paycheck and insurance to cover the cost of their mom’s treatments. Carlos had become his mom’s live-in caretaker. Though he’d never admit it out loud, as a teen, he’d resented the fact that their roles weren’t reversed. His brother had gotten to see the world! While Carlos had gotten to see and learn how chemotherapy worked.

He’d been so close to joining the Army too. He’d had the application in hand.

But then reality had come crashing back down when his mom had relapsed. Cancer had come for her again.

No. His dreams, his ambitions to see the world, would wait. His mom, the woman who had birthed him, the woman who had given him everything, the woman whose smile could light up a room—even if that room was in a hospital—needed him.

Carlos had stayed.

He’d thrown out the Army application and gone straight into Sheriff Longhill’s office the day of his high school graduation to apply to be a deputy. Longhill already knew him from the Junior Deputy program Carlos had been involved in during high school.

The resentment had not come back as Carlos had expected it to. He’d gotten to protect and serve, even if it was on a smaller scale.

His mom had been so proud of him.

His badge had never felt heavy. It had always been a compass for him. Right versus wrong. Black versus white.

Except that his black and white universe had recently turned gray.

Steel had been prepared to question Connelly in Ohiopyle. He’d started to—and it had been Carlos who had told Steel to do it elsewhere. He might as well have signed Connelly’s death certificate himself. At the time, his mind had been on getting the women medical care. Some… Well, the blood on their thighs had been telling.

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