The Heir (Carrillo Ranch Book 2), page 1
The Heir
Carrillo Ranch 2
Rain Carrington
Copyright ©2024 by Rain Carrington
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Cover by Rain Carrington
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Contents
Foreword
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight
9. Chapter Nine
10. Chapter Ten
11. Chapter Eleven
12. Chapter Twelve
13. Chapter Thirteen
14. Chapter Fourteen
15. Chapter Fifteen
16. Chapter Sixteen
17. Chapter Seventeen
18. Chapter Eighteen
19. Chapter Nineteen
20. Chapter Twenty
21. Chapter Twenty-One
22. Chapter Twenty-Two
23. Chapter Twenty-Three
24. Chapter Twenty-Four
25. Chapter Twenty-Five
26. Chapter Twenty-Six
27. Chapter Twenty-Seven
28. Chapter Twenty-Eight
29. Chapter Twenty-Nine
30. Chapter Thirty
31. Chapter Thirty-One
32. Chapter Thirty-Two
33. Chapter Thirty-Three
34. Chapter Thirty-Four
35. Chapter Thirty-Five
36. Also by Rain Carrington
37. About Rain Carrington
Foreword
“Dad, come on! I only want to go to help. You said it yourself. You want me to learn from Uncle Dante!”
Selestino Carrillo paced his father’s home office, kicking at the corner of the perfect white rug that cushioned Antonio’s heavy, black walnut desk from the Italian tiles underneath. His own shoes clapped loudly on that damn floor. Italian tile, Italian clay, Italian, Italian, he was surrounded by his heritage.
His father had taken back the mantel of the family. Oh, it wasn’t just the blood-relative kind of family or adopted family. It was the organized crime family, the all-powerful Carrillos.
He was the heir apparent to the throne, the oldest male son of the oldest male son, Antonio Carrillo. That would be enough pressure, but for him, it meant a life of privilege, of safety and being constantly surrounded by guards. People were out to get them, take what was theirs. It had been that way since he was born, twenty-one, almost twenty-two years ago.
Selestino was older than his years, his parents and uncles had said it a million times, and yet when he wanted to go to the wilderness to be with his uncles, his father had strictly forbidden it.
“Sel, the place is…too big. It’s sixty-four square miles with a killer on the loose! Dante is busy getting the buildings up since winter broke, and no one knows when and where that murdering bastard son of the former owner is.”
Selestino knew all of that. It was one reason he wanted to go so badly. Finally, a place where he could go where there weren’t guards all over him constantly. His younger siblings felt the same way, but they were both underage and stuck. He, finally, was not.
Antonio’s phone rang, and he picked it up, already annoyed until he saw who was calling. “There! Hear it from him!”
“Uncle Dante,” he groaned as he sunk into the leather chair in front of the desk.
“My baby brother,” Antonio boomed as he answered the call. “Just the man I wanted to hear from.”
It was on speaker, so Selestino could hear him. “Sel?”
“Yes. Your stubborn nephew has been haranguing me over going to visit you in the middle of nowhere.”
“Brother, please. Don’t call out my new home until you’ve set your pretty brown eyes on it. It’s truly lovely.” To Sel, he said, “But you, my darling nephew, will not see it until it is safe.”
“Gee, big surprise, you taking my father’s side over mine. Blood is thicker than…oh, wait! I am your blood too, Uncle Dante.”
“Now, now, no need for all that, Sel. I do have a job for you. As you’re out of school for the summer, and likely driving your parents crazy, I have a very important one for you. If your father agrees, I am sending you to the woods.”
Sel sat forward, excited, but Antonio tried to quash it. “Dante, he’s not going to Montana.”
“No, Antonio. He’s going to Apishipa Creek, Colorado. I know three men there that can fill three very important roles in my new endeavor.”
Chapter One
Dante Carrillo, the suave former head of the crime family of the same name, walked along the road in front of the cabins, listening intently to the forewoman of the construction crew as she told him how many more workers’ cabins could be added.
“There is great flat space at either end that would need minimal bulldozing before we could build,” Jody Mitchel said as she gave Dante another tour of the place.
Roland Brady, the architect, was looking over his tablet as he stood in the field off to the south of the cabins. “Dante,” he said as Dante sauntered over to him. “I think Jody is onto something. These cabins are great, but we can fit in a lot more. It would save the people working here a ton of money if they didn’t have to rent or buy homes nearby.”
“I love the idea. I’d like them to feel like the homes are theirs, however. It would serve two purposes. For one, they are more secure, happier, but it would also save on upkeep if they took care of it on their own. If they can, of course.”
“Lovely idea,” Roland agreed, sticking the tablet between his legs so he could get his long, curly hair into a ponytail as the wind was whipping it in his face. “We’re already building thirty guest cabins, so after those are finished, that same crew can come here and build a series of cabins for the workers. Some could be two-story, for those with kids, adding an extra bedroom or two.”
“Roland, how are you doing all this? I’m overwhelmed and I couldn’t draw a stick figure house.”
Roland preened at the compliment. “It was overwhelming, I’ll grant you, but the more I do it, the easier it gets. I just have about a hundred folders in all my computers and tablets.”
“I’m sure,” Dante gave him with a smooth chuckle. “Alright, then, you two put your heads together and build more. The families living here, working here, it’s what I’ve dreamed of for this place. The ranch hands are enjoying their private spaces.”
“The bunkhouse is completed, too. Adding to it and building the private rooms was a lot easier than we guessed,” Roland told him, and that made Dante happy.
“We’re rolling right along.”
“How’s your home?” Jody asked. She hadn’t been given that job as she was so busy with the rest of the place. Dante brought in other crews as soon as winter broke to build what had been one home, but had turned into a compound of homes and buildings.
“It’s near completion. Thank you for asking. It’s beautiful. Blaine’s pouring over samples the interior decorator keeps sending him,” Dante told them, proud of how his husband, Blaine, had kept on the construction of the compound so Dante could oversee the rest of the resort.
With more plans set in motion, Dante left the cabins and was taken by his driver and bodyguard, Bruno, a tall drink of water with daggers for eyes and the ability to crush a man’s throat in a single punch. He’d been trained from the time he was a young man in martial arts, then added more training in the military.
Dante missed his old bodyguard, who’d become like a brother to him. When Nick left him to start a family with his husband Peyton, Dante knew it was time to think about starting his own.
“Bruno, am I insane?” Dante asked from the passenger seat of the SUV. He’d grown tired of hollering from the backseat. The vehicles running over dirt roads made it nearly impossible to hear a conversation from that far.
“You’ve asked me that most every day, boss.”
As he chuckled, he realized Bruno was right. Bruno scratched through his trimmed beard, and Dante asked him, “Well, do you usually answer?”
<
It was true. Dante watched the land outside the window as they passed, the mountains standing all around them, the extensive fields of emerald-green. Serenity is what he’d found on this land. Sure, they’d had some road bumps that would have sent most people running as far and as fast as they could. They’d had a serial killer on the loose when they first began the tedious construction. Still, when the end of the day came, and he could hold his husband as they watched the sunset setting the sky on fire with brilliance…all he felt was serenity.
“Heard from your nephew, boss?”
From his reverie, he was harshly yanked, thinking of Selestino’s stubbornness. “He’s heading to Colorado as we speak. He’s not happy, accusing me of giving him busy work.”
Bruno had an amazing laugh, deep and sexy as all hell. Just thinking that, however, made him feel as if he were cheating on his husband. And Blaine would likely feel the same. Smiling, thinking of his jealous husband, he almost missed it when Bruno asked, “Aren’t you?”
Bruno was just turning thirty, a mostly quiet man, but deadly. He was speaking more now that he and Dante had been almost constant companions for over a year. “Bruno, don’t piss on my parade today.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
Dante gazed distractedly at his nails, noticing he needed a manicure. “Bruno, do you think it’s over? We have had no one come up missing in months.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. Once a person starts down a path like that, they don’t give up easily.”
They were talking about the man, Alex Brooks, who’d kidnapped several people from the area and kept them in a secret panic room in the farmhouse's basement that was formerly occupied by his father, Josiah Harrison.
Since their discovery of it during the winter, they’d freed the captive men and upped their security on the ranch. Still, Dante worried about it almost constantly. “If it wasn’t for that, I’d let my nephew come here.”
“I get that, boss. I know that’s why you won’t let him come here. Still, you’re treating him like a child, in his estimation. And he feels like a man now.”
Dante narrowed his eyes as he stared pointedly at his handsome, deadly bodyguard. “You seem to know a lot about it.”
“I can relate. I have two older brothers, much older, and they constantly treated me like a kid. Bullied me, maybe a little, but their friends were worse. So, I started taking karate when I was six. Then other disciplines. I joined the Army Special Forces. I learned to fight for myself, but more importantly, I learned to not have to fight.”
“What? You broke cinder blocks instead of faces?”
“Yes, something like that. I see that in you, Dante. Surely, you’ve had to prove yourself as the gay younger brother of the head of the family, and you did. Did you kill everyone that didn’t think you were worthy of the Carrillo name? Fight them all?”
“We wouldn’t have had a family left if I’d have done that, so no.”
“Proving yourself, you had to. He has to do it now, Dante. You were the younger brother, and he’s the third in line, the son. The gay son, to boot.”
When Selestino had come out to the family, he’d done it with Dante at his side and his chin high in the air. Defiant, even to those who would support him no matter what. “I guess he has to prove himself, eventually. What do I do?”
“Nothing. I’m guessing he’ll show up here. Maybe even under your nose. Let him, just…make sure he’s safe.”
“You’re a good friend, Bruno.”
“I’m just a gay kid brother to two very straight men who had to figure out the hard way I wasn’t an easy punching bag.”
When they got to the ranch, he was greeted by a weary Dallas McIntyre, the ranch manager. A lovely man with a shock of white-blond hair that barely showed under his hat, he shook Dante’s hand as he said, “This place is sure coming along.”
“It is, it is,” Dante sighed. “I’m pretty happy with the progress. Importing more workers, given what happened to the others, wasn’t easy.”
“You were upfront, which was good. The ones that came aren’t shy to show they’re brave about it,” Dallas admitted, laughing. “Any word on Brooks?”
“None. My contacts with the government say the feds are at a loss as well. The last spotting they think was real was in New Mexico. Straight shot to Mexico. I have a lot of contacts there who are on the lookout for him.”
“Good to know. I’m still comforting Ruben from nightmares,” Dallas whispered, then looked over to see his partner coming toward them. “Don’t mention it.”
“Of course not, Dallas.” To Ruben, Dante greeted, “How is my favorite ranch hand?”
Ruben’s bright smile hid his constant fear of the man who’d terrorized them all. He’d come close to being a victim of him. His dark eyes were always clouded, and it was one reason he wanted to be the one to catch Brooks. To take that from the handsome Latino sweetheart.
“I’m great, Mr. Carrillo. How are you?”
“Dante, Ruben. Dante, remember?”
“I’m sorry. I was raised with manners,” he laughed.
“Well, Ruben, Blaine and I will join you and the other workers soon, with a roof over our heads. The house is almost done and if Blaine has anything to say about it, we’ll move in before the paint and paneling is on the walls.”
“I’m guessing he’s tired of that little trailer?”
“It was a rough, cold winter in that thing. No matter that we had the heat on the entire time, that wind…”
Ruben nodded once and confirmed, “It can freeze a person quick.”
“Where is Marius?” Dante asked of the couple’s third, effectively making them a throuple.
“He’s around here somewhere,” Dallas said,
“He’s at the bunkhouse, talking to Vic about how the sheriff gig is going.”
Victoria Meyers was the bunkhouse den mother who recently ran and won the job of sheriff for the small town nearest the ranch, Redbud. “Vic, yes, she’s a keeper. Hired another deputy, she told me.”
“She’s got the place organized better than anyone thought it could be. It frees her up to still work here.”
“Good! I’m happy to hear it. Does the ranch need anything?”
Dallas and Ruben looked at each other, and Ruben nodded before Dallas turned back to Dante, took off his hat and said, “Dante…I know you’re already putting out a whole lot of money. It’s…it’s a doctor. We had a hand nearly break his leg, and Jet’s doin’ a fine job,” he said, speaking of the Creek Nation veterinarian that doubled as a doctor for the place. “He’s just stretched thin, especially trying to treat the cattle without the usual drugs and such.”
Finally, Dante could pat himself on the back for thinking ahead. “I’m hoping to be securing that as we speak, Dallas.”
Chapter Two
The town was one of the most beautiful places he’d ever seen, and he’d seen a good chunk of the world. Green trees, with rusty colored stones the size of the SUV they drove.
His newest and most annoying bodyguard to date did the driving, his huge hand on the steering wheel, his thin lips tight as he watched all around them even as he watched the road.
Bennie Mancuso was his name, and his biceps were as big as Selestino’s chest. “It’s pretty here.”
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“Please, stop calling me sir. My last bodyguard called me Sel.”
“And he’s no longer with you, sir.”
Sel spun his head away from the goon and stared out the window, thinking of his former bodyguard. It was Sel’s fault he was gone, of course, when he’d sneaked off into a bar with a guy and the bodyguard lost him for a night. It was lucky the guy was still alive. Antonio had been furious.
After the SUV sailed past a tall stand of spruce, the view opened to show a valley far below them and the rise of yet another mountain behind it. Breathtaking, how that mountain rose to a few silken-looking clouds, the subtle blue sky a canvas for the geese flying in a V over the peak of it.
