Page 89 of The Fixer

Jet

Not three months ago, I’d been in this same place, standing on the front steps of Paulo D’Angelo’s house. My world had been shattered, the rug pulled out from under me. Everything I’d been living for had been taken away.

Standing at the threshold again, I was able to look at it through a different lens. Because, while the time away had been painful, it had brought Eliza to me.

The girl stood at my side, her gorgeous body draped in a pair of fitted blue jeans and a sweater the color of spun gold. Her mother’s earrings hung from her ears, little diamonds that glittered in the sunlight and made the golden flecks in her eyes shine. I pulled her to me, pressed a kiss to her lips, thinking it couldn’t get better than this.

“They’re at it again!” Mateo’s laughter rang through the air as he pulled open the heavy door. Eliza ducked her head, tucking in against me, then peeked up at my friend. “You two never stop, do you?”

“Like you have any room to complain,” Queenie said from behind him. The woman wrapped an arm around him as she came to his side. “Jet, Eliza, I’m so glad you could make it. Come on in.”

“You’ve got quite the crowd,” I said to their backs as they led us through Paulo’s house to the back yard.

Mateo looked over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You have no idea.”

And I didn’t. There were cars parked out front, more than I had expected. Especially after Paulo had demanded we all lay low just a few months ago. But the crowd that was gathered as we stepped out onto the patio was larger than I ever foresaw. Cars lined the tree line at the far end of the property, and a sea of people covered every open space in the back yard.

I hadn’t seen a crowd this large at Paulo’s since he appointed Zeno Fierro as one of his lieutenants years ago.

My gaze raked over the faces, cataloguing each guest as they passed. Paulo’s lieutenants and their families. Some of the lower-level men and women were there, too, vying for the attention of their bosses. My parents, my aunt and uncle, my siblings and cousins, their spouses and kids. Over near the pool, the men Queenie had entrusted with her life. Closer to the house, most of the Medinas stood chatting away.

But what surprised me the most, what really caught me off guard, were the men talking to Paulo and Zeno on the other side of the yard.

Santini. Fontana. Marconi. Gallo. Nazario.

And beside them, Hector Alvarez.

“What’s going on here?” I grabbed Mateo’s arm and pulled him to a stop. Those dark eyes of his shone with his own unique brand of mischief behind the thick black rims of his glasses.

“We’re just having a little party,” Queenie responded, curling her arm around Eliza’s like they were the best of friends. “Come on, sweetie. Come meet the family.”

My girl looked up at me, all shy and sweet and as happy as a clam. “You okay?”

“Of course.” I kissed the tip of her nose, but Queenie pulled her away before I could do anything else. I turned to Mateo. “A little party?”

He gave a shrug, the two of us watching as Queenie introduced Eliza to Mateo’s mother, Mariana, his brothers, Yanny and G, and their girlfriends, Lia and Tessa. “Size is relative. Who are we to judge what’s considered big or small?”

“Spoken like a man who’s trying to come to grips with a little issue of his own,” came a voice from behind us. Rolly Giordano stood in the doorway, his wide grin softening the sharp lines of his face. Laughter rumbled through me as Mateo’s jaw dropped.

“Really, dude?” He clutched at his chest. “And here I thought our injuries had brought us closer.”

“Nah, man,” Rolly said with a wink. “I’ve been warned away from you since I was a kid. It’ll take more than a brush with death to make me forget Natalia’s warnings.”

“Oh, that’s how you’re going to play it?” Mateo raised his fists, waving them in the air in front of him like he thought he might fight his sister’s best friend. Before he could do more than get a single jab off, Queenie swept by and slapped the back of his head.

“No fighting. Doctor’s orders.”

“Hey!”

“You better listen to my cousin, Medina,” Rolly said with a laugh. He clapped my shoulder. “I hear she’s got the best crew in the world on her side.”

“Traitor,” Mateo mumbled as I shook Rolly’s hand.

“Good to see you, brother.”

“You, too. You getting along okay?”

Rolly shrugged, gaze drifting over the crowd. “I’m back at work at the docks, but not quite up to full strength. Still got some work to do.”