Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) (3 page)

The boy nodded and handed her the ice pack. “Better.”

“Good. I hope this means you won’t be running through the library anymore.”

“And have to flip my star? Uh-uh. If I flip my star, I don’t get to pick anything from the candy box.”
 

She took his hand and led him out of her office. “Oh, my. That would be bad.”
 

“Yeah, and if my mom found out I flipped my star, she might make me stay home instead of going to Disney World.”

“You’re going to Disney World for spring break? Wow, you’re a lucky guy. But I can’t imagine your mom leaving you behind.”

“I dunno. My dad is always calling her a tease. So maybe she was just teasing me when she said if I’m not good at school I can’t go on vacation.”

“A tease,” she echoed and hid a smile. “Yes, I bet that’s exactly what she was doing. Teasing you.” She gave his little shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Have fun and tell Mickey Mouse and Goofy I said hi.”

Joey grew serious. “You know those are just people in costumes, right?”

“Yes, I’m fully aware. Thank you. Now scoot. The principal is going to be calling for buses soon.”

As Joey dashed down the hall, Claire Brundle, one of the school’s special ed teachers and her close friend, came around the corner. “Geez, Nurse Naomi, don’t you know anything? Mickey Mouse and Goofy aren’t real.”

She laughed. “Thank God Joey clued me in, huh? That kid is a riot. You should have heard what he said his dad calls his mom.”

“I don’t even want to know. Olivia’s preschool teacher told me that she’ll believe half of what my daughter says happens at home, if I believe half of what happens at school.”

“Good advice. So, are you ready for your vacation?”

“Yep. It’s scary how ahead of the game I am. Everything is packed, and all my darling husband has to do is load the car and we’re outta here. You know we still have room for one more.”

Over the past few months, Claire had asked her a dozen times to join her and her family to spend spring break with them at the house they’d rented in Siesta Key, Florida. While she’d appreciated the offer, spending the week with Claire, her husband and daughter, her mother and father in-law, not to mention her brother and sister in-law and their three kids sounded not only like a recipe for disaster but a vacation from hell. Besides, she had her garden to tend to and some serious spring cleaning to do.

She wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulder. “Thank you. But I’ll let you have all the fun.”

“Please?” Claire batted her lashes. “I promise you won’t have to pay for a thing.”

“I am so on to you. You just want me there as a buffer from a houseful of in-laws.”

“No. I need a drinking partner. If you’re there, my mother-in-law won’t give me the ‘Claire, do you really think you need that glass of wine’ crap.”

She laughed. “Okay, so you want me there as an excuse to get drunk. For shame.”

“That’s me. The town drunk.”
 

Their principal chose that very moment to round the corner. Claire’s cheeks grew beet red when he raised his eyebrows. After he went into the office, Naomi nudged Claire with her shoulder. “Smooth.”

“No kidding. On that note, I’m leaving.” Claire started down the hall, then glanced over her shoulder. “If you change your mind, the minivan leaves at thirteen hundred this evening.”

“You realize that’s one o’clock, right?”

Claire gave her a wave. “Whatever. I’ll send you a postcard.”

Shaking her head and grinning, Naomi went into her office. As she shut off her computer and locked down her supplies, she thought about the next ten days. No bloody noses, no bumps on the head, no pink eye or chances of lice. While she loved working with kids, being a school nurse wasn’t exactly dull but it also wasn’t the most exciting job, either. Back in the day, she’d worked in busy ERs and had dealt with all sorts of crazy cases.
 

Those days were long gone.
 

Rather than dwell on the past she looked to the week ahead. To the gardening, the spring cleaning. Maybe she’d even paint her spare bedroom or catch up on some reading or the shows clogging her DVR.
 

Alone.

“Have a great week,” Donna, one of the school’s secretaries called from the main office.

“You too,” she said and couldn’t help envying Donna. She and her husband were leaving for an all-inclusive resort in the Dominican Republic for the next five days. They had no kids, but were trying. And Donna was hoping they’d come back from the resort with
extra
baggage.

She finished closing up her office, then locked the door. As she left the school, she waved to a group of kids waiting to climb into the idling bus and headed toward the main parking lot. While she walked, she dug into her purse for her keys. Once they were in her hand she looked at her Toyota 4Runner, which was probably about forty feet away, and clicked the button on her key chain to unlock the car doors.

A large, dark grey SUV drove down one of the parking lot aisles, then turned and slowly moved in her direction. Although she assumed the driver was a parent coming to pick up their kid, and she refused to allow old insecurities to fester, she still quickened her pace. While she hadn’t heard a word from the murdering bastard in eight years, and the chances that he was still even looking for her were—damn it.
 

Don’t think about him. He’s not worth the time or energy.
 

She reached the Toyota, opened the driver’s side door and tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. The dark grey vehicle slowed, then pulled into a parking spot two away from hers. With no other cars between the SUV and her Toyota she could see the dark silhouette of a man. And it looked as if he was staring. At her.

Those insecurities took root anyway. Always aware of her surroundings, always on alert, she quickly slipped into the driver’s seat, closed then locked the door. Sliding the key into the ignition, she glanced out the window, then froze.

Her heart raced. Her mouth went dry. An uncontrollable shiver ran through her body.
 

The past five years suddenly disintegrated. As if she’d just woken from a disjointed nightmare, the months of running, of searching for the perfect place to hide in plain sight, the lonely days and even lonelier nights faded into a blur.
 

Jake
.

Tears welled in her eyes. For the lost years, the lost love, for the future they could never have. She quickly blinked them away and opened the car door. Her legs weak, her stomach somersaulting with embarrassment, excitement and regret, she placed a shaky hand on the door for support. A small part of her wanted to climb back into the car, drive off and pretend Jake had never come to Woodbine. But a large part of her, the part that had never stopped loving him, that had never allowed the memories of what they’d had together die, wanted to run to him. Throw her arms around his neck and kiss him.

“Jake,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. He looked so damned good. Tan, lean, muscular, his big toned arms showing from beneath his short sleeve golf shirt, his dark hair no longer in his trademark military crew cut.
 

Chin trembling, hand still clinging to the opened car door, she took a small, tentative step forward. “Jake,” she said louder, firmer.

He pushed off the SUV and slowly approached, his gaze never wavering from hers. Lightheaded, she stayed put, kept her hand on the door for fear she might crumble to the asphalt. She’d dreamed of seeing him again, had imagined what she might say, the excuses she could give him. But anything she’d ever come up with had sounded terrible, selfish and ridiculous. Even if what she’d tell him was the truth.

Now that he was less than five feet away from her, she had no idea what to say or do. A million questions buzzed through her mind. Was he married? Did he have children? Fresh tears filled her eyes. God, she really was a selfish bitch. She wanted him happy, had always prayed he’d find someone to love, but deep down she’d hated the thought of him loving someone else. Making love to another woman. Creating a child. A future that hadn’t included her.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice rough, raw. He blinked, looked to the ground and took a couple of more steps until he stood within arm’s reach. When he met her gaze, she expected anger and resentment, instead she found anguish, longing and heat in his dark eyes.
 

She pressed her lips together to stop her chin from trembling and swiped at an errant tear. She’d hurt him. Because she’d loved him so much, she had no choice but to leave. With too many deaths on her conscience, she’d refused to add Jake to that ugly list.
 

Her mom, dad and brother’s dead bodies chased through her mind.

“School nurse?” he asked and tilted his head toward the building.

Unable to speak, afraid she’d burst into tears in the parking lot where buses, kids and faculty were only a short distance away, she nodded.

“That’s probably a nice change for you. Better hours, less stress.”

She gave him another nod, while her mind and heart continued to race. Why now? Why was he here? She broke eye contact and glanced at his left hand. No ring.
 

A surge of relief swept through her, but when she met his gaze again, it quickly dissipated. While the heat remained, his eyes no longer held a trace of hurt, but definitely anger.

“Are you happy here?”

I’ve never been truly happy since I left you.
The words were there, but she couldn’t say them. Still too stunned to speak, too afraid she’d turn into a puddle of mush in the school parking lot, and worried people might be watching them, she gave him another lame nod.
 

“I know this is a shock,” he said, his voice holding resentment. “Coming here was a mistake. I’m sorry.” He turned his broad shoulders and moved toward the SUV.
 

Don’t go. Don’t go.
“Don’t,” she said and choked back a sob.

He stopped and turned his head slightly. Not enough to face her, but enough where she could see the hardening of his strong jaw.
 

“Don’t what?” he asked, his tone bitter.

“Don’t leave. Nothing with you was ever a mistake.”
Except when I was forced to leave you.

He looked over his shoulder. The doubt in his eyes had her letting go of the car door and moving a few steps. Although not prepared to cope with the past, to cope with everything she’d given up, she wasn’t ready to let him go. Again.

“You came here for a reason,” she said. “I’d like to…catch up and see how you’ve been. Just not in the school parking lot.”

Nodding, he faced her. “I saw a diner on the way in. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“No.” She refused to deal with their reunion in a diner. There were too many issues left unsaid. “I—”

Andy Webber, the school’s gym teacher, strolled by and waved. After he walked past them, Jake took a step back.
 

“You don’t want me to leave, but you don’t want to—”

“That’s not it.” She looked to see if anyone else was coming by and turned to him. “Follow me back to my house. It’ll be more comfortable than the diner.”

His handsome face relaxed, but his eyes probed and questioned. She suspected his being here wasn’t a ‘just passing through the area’ visit but something more calculated. Jake had always been a balls-to-the-wall type of guy. Now that the initial shock of seeing him had abated slightly, she went into self-preservation mode. Next to the loss of her family, leaving Jake had been the lowest point in her life. Whatever his reasons for being here, she’d need to keep her shields up and her heart guarded.

Lately, years of running, of looking over her shoulder, the lonely days and nights and not having someone to share them with, had been catching up with her. Although it had been years since they’d been together, she could easily see herself falling into his strong arms. Picture them making love, imagine them going back to the way things used to be between them.
 

But they couldn’t. She’d run from him for a reason. Until the bastard who’d murdered her family and forced her into this self-imposed exile was rotting in Hell, she’d keep running. Otherwise, Jake would end up like everyone else she’d loved.

Dead.

*

Harrison Fairclough’s eyes burned and watered as he stared at the laptop screen. Thanks to the damned Russian’s chain smoking, a hazy fog hung in the small, shitty motel room and made the place smell like a dirty ashtray.
 

He rubbed his eyes and drew in a breath. Damn, even his mouth tasted like an ashtray and he didn’t smoke. “Vlad,” he said to the Russian. “Do you mind?”

Vlad leveled his ice blue eyes on him, his dark blond brows forming a V as he took a long drag of his cigarette and blew smoke rings. “Do I mind what?” he asked, his thick accent reminding Harrison of Boris Badenov from the old
Rocky and Bullwinkle
cartoons.
 

The Russian could probably rearrange Harrison’s face and cause his internal organs to bleed with one blow of his meaty fists. Growing up in the one of Norfolk’s most undesirable areas, he’d spent his entire life surrounded by men like Vlad. Between his mom’s numerous, abusive live-in boyfriends, the notorious cutthroat neighborhood street gangs, and his short stints in juvie and then later in prison, he knew Vlad’s type. Brawn with no brain. While Harrison would prefer to keep his nose, jaw and internal organs intact, he refused to allow Vlad to intimidate and bully him. Besides, the way he saw it, Vlad and his counterpart, Santiago, needed him.