Ultimate Prey (Book 3 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series) (38 page)

“Ryan?”

He paused and closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Take your own advice. Stay out of your head.”

“I’m not in my head,” he lied.

“Then that’s a good thing. Because I was thinking that
you
might be thinking that we have bigger problems to deal with other than the need for a shower and a bed.”

“I might’ve been,” he answered honestly, relieved she’d brought up what had been weighing on his mind.

“Don’t. No matter what happens tomorrow, or the next day, or even the day after that, it doesn’t change what just took place in this tent.” She leaned forward and latched onto his wrist. “I might hate why we’re here together, but I like
you
.”

Relief diminished the resentment. “I like you, too.”

“Good.” She took his hand and pulled him back into the tent. “Come to bed. If you’re not lying beside me, I’m not going to be able to sleep.”

He grinned as his own words came back at him. She was right. He needed to stay out of his head and enjoy what they had right now. He crawled back under the sleeping bag, wrapped an arm around her, then spooned her.

Instead of worrying about tomorrow, he’d enjoy holding her tonight.

Somewhere in the Everglades, Florida

Friday, 12:49 p.m. Eastern Standard Time

“What the fuck do we have here?”

Ian jerked awake, then quickly reached for the gun next to him. A booted foot landed on his wrist, as the beam from a flashlight hit him in the eyes. Fear and panic gripped him. He frantically reached for Cami with his other hand. She grabbed onto his arm, her long nails digging into his skin as she buried her head against his shoulder.

“Maybe a couple of Del Rio’s people,” another man said, moving the beam over them.

“Del Rio’s a racist and hates white people.” He used his foot to apply pressure to Ian’s wrist. “Who do you work for, old man?”

“No one. We were hiking and got lost.” He licked his dry lips. “I can pay you if you help us out of here.”

Cami whimpered when light suddenly illuminated the trailer. As Ian’s eyes adjusted to the lantern’s glow, he stared at the two men, who could have been brothers. Both were in their mid to late twenties, tanned, handsome, clean-cut, and were dressed as if they’d just finished a day of fishing.

The man lifted his boot from Ian’s wrist, then kicked the pistol and rifle aside. “I see you were playing with our guns.”

“Shit, Chase, that means they’ve seen—”

“We were scared,” Ian said, and meant it. He toyed with the idea of telling them the truth, but decided against it. These men were here for the cocaine, and based on the blood and decomposing fingers he’d found in the bathroom toilet, he doubted they would have any empathy for their situation. “We don’t care what you two are into, we just want to find a way home. We can leave now and I can compensate you for using your trailer for the night. Just name your price.”

Chase grinned. “You couldn’t afford us.”

“Give him a price,” the other man said, turning off the flashlight and eyeing Cami. “How much is the woman worth?”

“Christ, Zack, we’re not prepared to take her with us. Besides, she’s old.”

“Not
that
old. Del Rio might be a racist, but he’d take a white woman and give her to one of his connections. She could be a little peace offering.”

Tasting a new kind of fear, Ian pulled Cami closer. Damn it. They’d taken a calculated risk, had chosen the trailer over spending the night exposed to the elements of the Everglades—and had lost.

“Screw Del Rio,” Chase said, picking up the two weapons from the floor. “There’s no way of making peace with him. Not after what you did to Sanchez.”

Zack smiled. “True,” he said, then glanced to Cami. “Still, the woman could be worth something.”

Cami’s tears bathed his shoulder. He hugged her tight, but wished he was in a position that would give him better access to the pistol he’d hidden in the waistband of his jeans.

“I told you to name your price,” Ian said. “I can wire the money into an account and—”

With a chuckle, Zack shook his head. “Then we’d definitely have to take the woman. How else could we be sure you’d pay us?”

“Sounds like a pain in the ass.” Chase took a few backward steps toward the short corridor leading to the bedroom. “And we’re already behind schedule. It’s bad enough we fucked up and Del Rio wants us dead, but we don’t need Smitty coming after us, too.”

Zack moved toward Cami, then ripped her from Ian’s arms. The blanket pooled around his waist as he reached for her. She let out a scream, then quickly snapped her mouth shut when Zack ran the barrel of his gun along her throat, down between her breasts. “We’re not
that
behind schedule,” he said, redirecting the gun to Ian. “I suggest you stay down, old man.”

Keeping the blanket around his waist, Ian scooted back, then leaned against the trailer wall.

“Smitty
loves
whores,” Zack continued. “Clean this one up and I can see him getting a good price for—”

“Dude, apparently you can’t see shit. Look at her. She’s got blood all over her clothes. It doesn’t look like she’s showered in days. The old guy isn’t any better. They’re probably a couple of drunks or junkies and have been having a good time with our stash. Kill them. We’ll throw them behind the trailer with Sanchez’s body.”

“You can do the killing this time.”

“Don’t be a pussy about it.”

“Pussy? All you did was cut off his fingers. I’m the one who had to cut his throat.”

“Wasn’t my call. Take it up with Smitty if you want. He’s the one who wanted it done that way.” He let out a hard sigh. “Just take care of them while I move the boxes.”

“I’ll make you a deal, bro. You kill the old dude, and I’ll take care of the cougar,
after
I get a piece of ass,” he finished, and groped Cami’s breast.

Hatred and rage settled deep in Ian’s chest. Steven had tortured Cami out of revenge. This man was, simply put, a depraved piece of shit. Whatever these two boys had involved themselves in would bite them on the ass. He’d make sure of it.

Once he had Cami safe, he’d shoot them, but let them live only so they could spend the rest of their days looking over their shoulder. Between his own dealings with the upper echelon of the drug world, and the amount of coke stored in the bedroom, Smitty didn’t sound like the type who would let one of his minions cost him money or risk his reputation without consequence. Another calculated risk, but at this point he was beyond caring. He’d make it so these two didn’t produce their shipment, and let street justice take care of the rest.

“Deal.” Chase raised his weapon, then aimed it at Ian. “You want me to kill the old man? Not a problem.”

Cami let out a piercing scream. Chase flinched. Ian shifted his gaze from the barrel of Chase’s gun to his fiancée, just as she slipped the filet knife from the pocket of her robe and stabbed it into Zack’s thigh.

Zack shoved her against the wall and stared at the knife protruding from his leg. Taking advantage, Ian reached around, grabbed the pistol from behind his back, then shot Chase in the right shoulder and hand. When Chase’s gun fell to the floor, Ian redirected the pistol onto Zack and fired, hitting the man in his opposite thigh.

Zack’s legs crumpled beneath him. Cami shoved off the wall, picked up the tackle box, then, using both hands and letting out a triumphant yell, whacked it against Zack’s head.

Ian stood, kicked Chase’s gun out of reach, flipped the pistol in his hand, then smashed the butt along the man’s head.

Breathing hard, adrenaline rushing through his veins, he rushed to Cami and held her. “Are you okay?” he asked, then kissed her forehead, cheek and lips.

She gave him a kiss, then pulled back. Her eyes were wild with fear as she stared at the two men on the floor. “Should we…kill them?”

Hell, no. He retrieved fishing line from the rods against the wall. “Leave them,” he said, wrapping the line around Chase’s wrist. “They had to come here by boat. Let’s tie them up and get the hell out of here.”

“What about all of their cocaine?” she asked, pulling the knife from Zack’s thigh.

“What about it?”

“That can’t make it to this Smitty guy.
We
can’t let him put more drugs on the streets.”

“It’ll get there anyway,” he said, and finished binding Chase.

“You’re such a damned cynic. I know that, but we can stop
this
shipment. Do you have any idea how many people I know who’ve ruined their careers because of coke?”

“Damn it, Cami. This isn’t an after-school special. Steven could’ve heard the shots. We need to get out of here and onto their boat.”

She crossed her arms and hiked an eyebrow. Shit. He knew what that brow meant and had seen it multiple times on her daughter. “Fine. Do something with the drugs. I’ll finish tying up Zack.”

Carrying a flashlight, she rushed from the room. Blood poured from Zack’s leg wounds, but the man would unfortunately live only to face Smitty. Ian bound Zack’s wrists and feet together, gathered their weapons, along with the ones he’d discovered earlier, then set them near the door.

“How are you coming along?” he called, and checked Chase’s pockets, looking for the keys to the boat they must have used to make their way here.

“Almost done,” she said, rushing down the hall. She picked up several water jugs, then ran back to the bedrooms.

While Cami did what she’d needed to do, he went through Zack’s pockets. When he found a set of keys in the leg of the man’s pants, excitement and hope rushed through him. Along with fear. They could escape Steven, but he knew the bastard wouldn’t stop. He’d come for them. Based on what Cami had told him, on what Steven had done to his ex and her fiancé, the man had nothing to lose. Steven had also called CORE out, threatened his agents and had made it clear he would do everything in his power to seek retribution.

The keys bit into his palm as he curled his hand into a fist. Steven would not win this. His hunt was over.

“Cami,” he shouted, and, picking up the lantern, rushed to the bedroom.

“Just about done,” she said, then poured the last of the water jug onto the cocaine.

With pride, he eyed what she’d done. At this point, if it were possible, the only thing the coke would be good for was papier-mâché. She’d sliced the black garbage bags and had dumped water on them.

Tossing the empty jug to the mattress, she glanced to the boxes of pink flamingos, which she’d spill onto the floor. “I can’t do much with these, but I’m hoping the water I dumped on them will make the coke useless.”

He reached for her hand. “You did good,” he said, then held up the keys. “Can we leave now?”

Her eyes widened a fraction before she grinned. “I might puke the whole way back to civilization, but it’ll be worth it.”

*

“Watch the light,” Ryan said, holding Lola’s hand and keeping the flashlight steady as they quickly finished navigating their way over the mangrove roots. “There’s a creek up ahead, then more woods. Almost there.”

Fear kept her feet moving. Those gunshots…

They splashed into the water, quickly sloshed through to the other side of the creek, then took off running. Ryan’s flashlight danced along dirt, ferns and trees.

“There’s the clearing,” he panted, killing the flashlight and plunging them into darkness. “Ready your gun and stay behind me.”

She quickly pulled the Glock Ian had given her from the holster, then held it with both hands. “We’re partners. I’ll stay by your side.”

He stopped, pulled her in for a kiss, then said, “A damn fine partner. But stay behind me, anyway. I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Taking her hand, he wrapped it around the edge of his pack. “Once we’re out of the woods, the moon will give us a little light. Watch your step.”

They moved slowly. Ryan stumbled on roots or falling limbs—it was too hard to tell in the blackness suffocating her—and caught himself. After a few minutes, and just a few feet from the edge of the clearing, he stopped, then pulled her down. “To the left,” he whispered.

She looked, then gasped. “What is it?”

“Don’t know. Could be meth heads.”

“What?” she asked, her racing heart picking up even more speed.

“The Glades are a great place to hide. Waterways give easy access to haul drugs in and out, then along the coast. Hopefully we’re dealing with a couple of stoned druggies who decided to shoot each other.”

Not her mom and Ian. He hadn’t said as much, but he’d implied the possibility.

She wished there had been time to follow their tracks. Then they would know for sure if her mom and Ian had stumbled upon this old house. But the moment they’d heard the first gunshot, they’d pulled on their boots and shoulder holsters, grabbed their packs and ran, leaving the tent behind.

“Come on,” he said, tugging her hand. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, should we stick to the tree line?”

“It’s too dark for anyone to see us.” He looked to the moon, which was nothing but a sliver. “But stay low, just in case.”

Moving in a diagonal pattern, they dashed across the clearing. When the light from the house was extinguished, her heart sank and her stomach filled with dread. Without that light, they no longer had a beacon, but they did still have the element of surprise. Only she couldn’t see a damned thing. She couldn’t make out a—