His hand slid over his shaved head in frustration. With a defeated growl, Remy stalked to the table and grabbed his car keys. With a quick glance at the surveillance monitors, he escaped to his Cadillac.
He needed a different car. Everyone knew he had a fondness for Cadillacs. His car would be a beacon for anyone looking for him. Right now it was just Ava, but she might not be working alone.
Remy stilled.
Not working alone . . .
Ava couldn’t have been working alone in Iraq. He had always blamed her solely for the raid. After the deaths and prison, he was so enraged and bitter that his mind had begun to fray. He hadn’t been thinking clearly. But the truth of the matter was that there was no way she’d be able to coordinate a raid on her own. Her skill was in search and rescue, not in massacre. Ava was the insider, not the mastermind. Who was she helping?
Remy had to look at the evidence again. When he had seen it all those years ago with David, he was blinded by sorrow and fury. The photos of soldiers, scattered like debris in their blood-soaked hideout, nearly pushed him over the edge.
David had saved him again, taking him away from it all.
Remy was going to have to ask for his help. David still had clearance. Remy had given up everything when he’d changed his identity. To the world, Brock Remington had died in an enemy prison.
And that’s the way it would stay.
Brock Remington was dead.
But Remy Bourne was alive . . . and furious.
* * *
Ava drove up the long drive to Greyson Miller’s mansion. She rolled to a stop at the gate and pressed the call button. She only had to wait moments before a woman’s pleasant voice greeted her.
“Hello,” Ava returned the greeting. “I heard this was a bed and breakfast, and I’m interested in staying.”
“Our grand opening will be in two weeks,” the woman replied. “We aren’t open yet. But, if you’d like, you can come up and see the place and I can give you a brochure for later.”
“Yes, I would like that.”
The gate rolled open.
“I’ll meet you at the front door,” the woman said.
“Thank you,” Ava replied. She pressed the accelerator and drove through the gate, giving a low whistle as the three-story mansion came into view. It was wide and stately, sprawled over acre after acre of prettily groomed land.
Parking at the entrance, Ava stepped out of the car. She was about to grab her gun when the large wooden front door opened and a petite woman in her twenties appeared. Ava closed her car door, leaving her weapon behind. She wouldn’t need it.
“Welcome to Dreamscape Inn,” the woman said. “I’m Jenna Newman.”
Ava shook Jenna’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Ava. I must say, I’m already impressed with the place.”
“Just wait until you see the inside,” Jenna said. She tucked a stray lock of hair into her auburn ponytail. “Do you have time for a tour?”
“Yes, that would be wonderful.”
“Excellent. I’m so excited to show you. I’ve been waiting anxiously for the grand opening. I think I’m driving everyone here crazy.”
Ava smiled and followed Jenna into the marbled entryway. She scanned the grand staircase and vaulted ceilings, taking in the enormity of the place.
“I have brochures in the kitchen,” Jenna said. “We can stop there last.”
“You keep them in the kitchen?”
“I’ve been using that as my temporary office. But I have a feeling the chef will kick me out as soon as we open. How long are you in town for?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a week or two.”
“Do you come to Las Vegas often, or is this a special trip?”
“A special trip.”
Jenna bit her lower lip. Ava could tell she was mulling over a thought. But before Ava could inquire, a man appeared from a rear entrance. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but not nearly as broad as Brock had been . . . or still was. His beard and dirt-covered jeans did nothing to camouflage who he was. This was Greyson Miller, powerful CEO turned B and B owner, and, from the look of it, the gardener. She recognized his gray eyes right away. A Miller family trait.
Those gray eyes curiously swept across her before resting on Jenna.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was wondering if it was lunchtime yet?” Greyson asked Jenna, swooping down to give her a quick kiss.
“Should be soon. You can ask Jean-Paul.”
Greyson frowned. “I’d rather not. Just give a shout when there’s food.” He gave a courteous nod to Ava before turning to leave.
“Wait,” Jenna said. “You need to meet our first guest.”
Ava blinked. First guest?
Greyson’s confused gaze flicked from Jenna to Ava and then back. “I thought we were opening in two weeks.”
Jenna smiled brightly. “I know. And I was just thinking how wonderful it would be to have a guest stay and let us know what we need to work on before the opening. Ava is only in town for a couple of weeks. She’d be perfect.” Jenna turned to Ava. “If you don’t mind being our guinea pig, I’ll comp your stay with us.”
Ava smiled. She’d been toying with an idea when she decided to come here. This would fall into her plan perfectly. If Brock was going to continue to evade her, then she’d make sure he knew where she was—smack dab in his territory. It would only be a matter of time before he’d find out.
Why trudge all over Vegas when he would come to her?
It was perfect.
“I’d love to be your guinea pig,” Ava said. “But only if you don’t mind, Mr. Miller.”
Ava hid her smile at Jenna and Greyson’s wide expression.
“Have we met?” Greyson asked. “And, please, call me Greyson.”
“No, we haven’t met, but I know David and spotted you as his brother right away.”
“Wow, you’re good,” Jenna said before turning sheepish and pointing to Greyson. “It took me a bit longer to figure out who he was.”
“How do you know David?” Greyson asked.
“We were in the same platoon in Iraq.”
Greyson’s eyes darkened.
Had he heard the story? Ava wasn’t sure, but she knew enough to stay silent until he spoke first.
“You were there with him?” he finally asked. “Were you okay? I had heard . . .”
“Yes, I was there,” Ava said easily. She now understood his dark gaze. “It turns out more people survived than originally thought.”
“Does David know?” Greyson asked.
“I’m sure he does since Bro . . . Remy was one of the survivors.”
“Remy? I had no idea. Does David know you’re in town?” Greyson asked. “I can call him and let him know. I’m sure he’d like to come over and visit.”
Ava shook her head. “Don’t concern yourself. He knows I’m in town.” She knew it was only a matter of time before Greyson spoke with David. The seeds of her plan were planted. Now she just had to sit back and wait. She was in Brock’s territory, and she knew he wouldn’t allow that.
And what a beautiful territory it was.
* * *
“Did you get it?” Remy asked as soon as David locked the warehouse door behind him.
“Yeah. It’s all here,” David said, holding out his phone. “I had to take pictures. I don’t have clearance like I used to.”
“You don’t?”
David shook his head, making himself comfortable in the weathered chair.
“But you used to have access to files,” Remy said. “What changed?”
“I don’t know, but I was able to get it anyway.”
“How?”
David smirked and wiggled his fingers. “Sticky fingers.”
Remy frowned. He knew David had taken a risk to get file access. Sticky fingers had nothing to do with it. But, he wasn’t going to argue with his friend. David had the information he needed.
Remy took the phone and flipped through do
zens of photos of Mya before . . . Christ! Remy quickly shoved the phone back at David. “Find the pictures I need,” he ordered gruffly.
David looked at the phone quizzically before cracking a smile. “Oh.”
“Oh,” Remy repeated dryly.
David laughed. “I have a beautiful wife and a camera. Tell me you wouldn’t do the same.”
“I don’t mind the pictures of her. It’s the other ones I have a problem with.” Not that he wanted to see photos of her naked either. Mya was like a sister to him. Now he doubted he’d be able to look her in the eye without blushing. Not that Remy would blush. Not only did his olive skin resist blushing, but not many things embarrassed him. Mainly because he didn’t give a damn what other people thought. But Mya . . . well, Mya was different. He cared because she made him care. She made everyone care. However, he doubted that even she could work that miracle with Ava.
“Are you saying you don’t like my pictures?” David feigned hurt. “I’m still in shape.”
“I barely tolerate you. I sure the hell don’t want to see the rest of you.”
David grinned while he scrolled. “Here. Start with these.” David handed over the phone only to have it thrust back into his face.
“Don’t make me shoot you,” Remy threatened, reaching for his gun.
David snorted. “You didn’t like that photo either?”
Remy flexed his hand. “If I see another picture of you, I will kill you. Why the hell do you have so many naked pictures of yourself?”
David’s mouth tugged at the corners. “You’d have to ask Mya. I’m not the one who takes them.”
Remy groaned, sliding his hand over his head. “I don’t want to know. Just find the information I need. I don’t want to hear Mya’s complaints if I send you home with bullet holes.”
“It’s not my fault if the woman has good taste.”
“Find the damn information!” Remy could feel his neck vein throb as blood coursed quickly through. How he had managed not to kill David in all the years he had known him was beyond him. “Ava is breathing down my neck, and I have no idea why.”
“You used to like that about her,” David said flippantly as he returned the phone.
Remy grabbed the phone, glaring at David. “I don’t like anything about her.”
David nodded absently. “Good. Remember that when we confront her.”
“We are not confronting her. I am.”
Remy had no doubt seeing Ava would jar him. But there was nothing that she could do or say that would make him hate her less. He would not show her mercy.
A traitor didn’t deserve mercy.
* * *
Ava stretched in a comfortable patio lounge chair. She gazed out at the backyard, content for the first time in ages. She knew it wouldn’t last long. But how could she feel otherwise when the sun warmed her skin and the cushions cuddled her? It had been way too long since she’d had any comfort. She’d savor it no matter how long it lasted.
“Ava,” Jenna called from the door. “It’s time for lunch.”
“Coming,” Ava said, swinging her legs off the chair. “It’s been two days of excellent meals. You’re spoiling me.”
Ava thought Greyson would’ve called David by now. But it seemed the brothers didn’t keep steady contact as she had suspected. She should’ve been diligent and kept watch of David herself, but relaxing on the patio was a dose of heaven. She only moved from her spot for food and necessities. And massages.
Jenna surprised her yesterday with a complimentary massage in the new day spa. Cocooned in a fluffy robe, Ava was led to a massage therapist who worked at her knots so intensely that Ava was a quivering lump and nearly had to call for help to rise from the massage table. It was wonderful.
Ava followed Jenna into the kitchen, where Greyson was already filling his plate. By the way he was heaping it, he’d need an additional plate or two.
“I see you’re hungry again,” Jenna said.
“You work me too hard,” he replied. He then leaned down to whisper into her ear, a wicked grin splayed across on his lips.
Jenna’s blush made Ava smile. She had pegged them as a couple right away, but after seeing them interact over the past two days, she felt the sharp pang of loneliness. Ava knew it was a road she’d walked down with open eyes, but it wasn’t of her own choosing.
Well, maybe it was. Men had expressed interest, but she had no interest in them. Her life wasn’t her own. But that was about to change. Many things were about to change.
“Ava?”
Ava blinked to find both Jenna and Greyson watching her with a worried expression.
“I’m sorry,” Ava said. “Did you say something?”
Greyson handed her a plate. “Just wondering if you’re hungry.”
“Yes,” Ava said, forcing a smile. “Sitting all day makes me very hungry.”
Jenna laughed, but Greyson’s gaze was steady. He saw things. Things that were better left alone.
Chapter 3
David watched Remy as he paced the warehouse, pondering the data-cluttered wall. They had spent days going over it again and again. It was all the same. Just as it had been six years ago.
The only change was Remy.
He didn’t even think of Remy as Brock anymore. They were two different men. Sure, they looked exactly the same—a tank on legs—but Brock had been snuffed out just as surely as if he had been killed in the raid.
David never blamed Remy for the change. He was just glad Remy had survived at all. But gone was Remy’s humor. Gone was his smile. Gone was his purpose.
Security director in a casino.
And before that, his brother’s chauffer and bodyguard.
David scoffed. It wasn’t as if those were bad jobs, but they weren’t Remy. Just watching him stalk the warehouse like a lion confirmed David’s thoughts. Remy’s plan had always been to climb the Army ranks.
And it wasn’t his past torments that had killed Brock. It was Ava.
A woman killed his best friend.
A woman who returned to kill him all over again.
But not if David found her first.
“I smell a rat,” David drawled, glancing over at the warehouse door.
“How did you know I was here? I didn’t make a sound,” Rat said, slowly maneuvering around the perimeter.
“How could I not? You smell like the sewer.”
“I haven’t been home to shower. Your girl is putting heat on me.”
“Ava?” Remy questioned. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean? Haven’t you been tracking her?”
Rat narrowed his small, watery eyes. “I was until she disappeared.”
“She disappeared?” Remy questioned, irritation lacing his voice. “Where was she seen last?”
Rat aimed his yellow smile at David. “At his house.”
“My house?” David demanded.
Rat nodded. “Sitting in broad daylight, watching your house.”
“You’re lying! I would’ve noticed her.”
Rat’s smile grew. “You were too busy with your wife to notice, but I saw. Everything.”
David pounced on Rat, slamming him against the wall. Rat’s thin hands grappled with David’s arm.
“Leave him alone, David,” Remy said. “You know damn well you don’t notice anything when Mya is around.”
David let go, snarling a curse. Ava had been outside his home. He had to get Mya out of Vegas today. She wasn’t safe while Ava Hunt was prowling.
“After Ava left David’s house, where did she go?” Remy asked.
“I lost her,” Rat admitted, rubbing his chest from David’s assault. Rat nearly flinched at Remy’s hard stare, but then he shrugged. “I took my eyes off her for a moment and she was gone.” Rat’s grin was back, aimed again at David. “A very short moment.”
David clenched his fists. He wanted to punch that smug smile off Rat’s face. He felt sick knowing Rat had looked i
n his windows, at his wife.
And it certainly wasn’t a short moment!
Remy rubbed his forehead. “You said she was putting heat on you. How?”
“You’re not the only one tracking her. Someone must have spotted me and put a tail on me.”
“That’s funny,” David said dryly. “Because you’re a rat.”
Rat’s lips curled. “Yeah. You know what else is funny? The little birthmark on your wife’s—”
David swung, his fist plowing into Rat’s jaw, sending him hard against the wall. As he fell, his head cracked against the surface. Rat, cross-eyed from the blow, scrambled to his feet, teetering as he regained his balance.
David lunged at him but was held back by Remy’s titan grip.
“Leave him alone,” Remy repeated.
David shrugged off Remy’s hand, backing away from Rat. Even though he wanted to do more damage to the vermin, he’d listen to Remy just this once.
“Don’t make me regret this,” David warned Rat.
“Come back when you have information,” Remy said, leading Rat to the door and locking it behind him.
“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Remy said to David.
“I don’t like him. I don’t trust him.”
“And you hate that he saw Mya naked. I, unfortunately, saw her photos. Are you going to beat the crap out of me too?”
“Like I could. And that was an accident,” David said. “I didn’t mean to show you her pictures. Just mine,” he added with a smirk, then he grew serious again. “I have to get her out of town.”
“If you’re worried about Rat, I wouldn’t bother.”
“Not just him. You heard what he said. If someone is tailing him, then they might wonder why he was outside my house. I don’t want Mya or the baby to get hurt. She’s been through enough.”
Remy nodded. “Go and do what you have to. You know where I’ll be.”
“I might be gone a day or two. Promise me you won’t make a move until I return.”
“I don’t make promises.”
“Promise me!”
My Traitor Page 2
