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

by Kristine Mason

  Steven yawned and closed his eyes. “No.”

  “Well, it’s beautiful. White sandy beaches, water so clear you can—”

  “Get on with it. I’m trying to fall asleep.”

  “Right. I’ll be quick. Chase didn’t know this, but I found a contact who smuggles coke into the Dominican, from South America, then out to Puerto Rico and Florida. He’s looking for someone to help him. That could be us.”

  Steven opened his eyes. “Sounds risky.”

  “It always is, but I’ve been doing this for about three years and haven’t gotten caught yet. If we don’t like the terms, we don’t do it. As businessmen, we get to pick and choose jobs and locations.” He sighed, then rested his head against the tree and grinned. “Just a little something for you to think about when you’re not daydreaming about killing the old guy.”

  Smiling, Steven moved the pack closer, then shifted and used it as a pillow. He closed his eyes. “I’ll think about it,” he said, and actually meant it. He had no one and no place to go. Zack offered him the chance to start his life over. Once he killed Ian, he would baptize himself with the little prick’s blood, then wash away the memories and begin anew.

  He imagined the fear and panic he would inflict on Ian and the others, along with the bloodshed. But as he drifted off to sleep, those images changed—to him standing on a boat, the sun beating down on him, the saltwater breeze blowing against his face.

  To a better life.

  To him being the one who would get away with murder.

  Chapter 17

  Ryan Monahan’s Home, Everglade City, Florida

  Friday, 8:16 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

  INSTEAD OF LYING in bed with Lola, Ryan stood by the patio door while Sadie took care of her morning business. He’d expected to end up at Ian’s rental house at some point this morning, but not at this hour. Unfortunately, Jackass had ruined Ryan’s plans of slowly making love to Lola. Barney had taken the CORE agents to the drug dealers’ trailer, hoping to pick up Jackass’s trail from there. Instead, they’d found that one of the dealers was dead, the other missing and tracks—indicative of a canoe—along with two sets of boot prints in the mud leading to the water.

  Ryan, as well as Barney, knew from experience it would take five to six hours to canoe from the trailer to Everglade City, which meant Jackass could already be here. Knowing that Jackass had found a faster way to town—and he had no doubt that was exactly where the man was heading—worried the hell out of him. Men like him, men who had nothing to lose, didn’t give up a fight. The question was, when would he strike and where? Ian assumed Jackass would come to the rental house, which made sense. But Ryan doubted he’d come for Ian during the day. If Jackass canoed thirteen miles throughout the night after hunting all day, he’d need rest. Hell, even a cold-blooded killer needed sleep.

  He let Sadie in when she came to the door. The dog shot inside, then made a beeline for the back bedrooms. He wanted to follow behind, but knew Lola was changing. Since he’d had a taste of her and couldn’t stop thinking about her soft skin and perfect curves, he chose to make coffee to take with them rather than torture himself. He could probably tempt her back into bed, but for what he wanted to do to her, he’d need time. He wouldn’t turn down a quickie, but would rather spread her out on the mattress and—

  Sadie barked up a storm. “Holy crap,” Lola shouted. “Sadie, get away from there.”

  He quickly glanced around the corner and down the hall. Hugging herself, Lola stood by the opened door of the second bedroom, wearing another pair of those tight black pants, along with the black boots and jacket she’d had on when he’d first met her.

  As he approached, Lola looked at him and raised a brow. “You live with a snake.”

  “Is that a deal breaker?” he asked with a grin.

  She dropped her arms. “I—what does that mean?”

  “I’m just giving you a hard time,” he said, then entered the room and motioned for Sadie to move away from the glass terrarium. The dog knew how to use her jaw to turn the door handle, and since she hated the ball python, she’d made heading into the bedroom for a daily barkfest part of her morning routine. “I’m snake-sitting. She’ll be gone in a few months.”

  “Well, whoever you’re snake-sitting for owes you, big time. That thing is huge. Do you feed it mice?” she asked pointing to the small, empty cage near the terrarium.

  “Rats, actually. And it’s not that big. She’s only about four feet.”

  “Is she…dangerous?”

  “She’s a ball python, so she’s a constrictor. I wouldn’t let her babysit a baby or a litter of puppies, but she’s not venomous and doesn’t bite.” He unlocked the terrarium lid. “Want to hold her?”

  “God, no.” Lola took a step back, then stuck her tongue out at him when he began laughing. “So who are you snake-sitting for?”

  “My brother, Shane.”

  He’d considered lying, only to keep from answering painful questions he suspected she might ask. Except he trusted Lola. He’d told her what had happened in Pakistan and she hadn’t judged him. Then again, he’d also never thought his mom would accuse and condemn him, either. Still, at this point, what did it matter what he told Lola? She would leave and they’d never see each other again. If anything, he’d love to tell her what few people knew, unburden the guilt—again—and hear what she thought.

  “I’m assuming he’s the guy standing next to you in the picture on your bookshelf. You two look so much alike.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Sorry, I wasn’t being nosey. I saw it when I got up this morning to get a glass of water.”

  “You’re fine.” He locked the top of the terrarium. “And, yeah, that’s him.”

  “Who’s older? I couldn’t tell.”

  “Shane, by ten months,” he said, leading her from the room.

  “How long have you been watching his snake?” She stopped at his bedroom and picked up her shoulder holster and gun, but left her duffle bag, hiking pack and dirty clothes. Good, she’d have to come back for her things.

  “Come January, it’ll be seven years.”

  When they reached the living room, she turned and frowned. “That’s not snake-sitting, that’s abandonment. Sounds to me like you’re stuck with it.”

  “Shane’s in prison.”

  She slid her gaze to the picture on the bookshelf. “When will he be released?”

  “I’m hoping sometime over the next few months, but I’m not holding my breath. He was sentenced five to seven years, and since I’ve had his snake this long…”

  “He’ll end up doing full time.” She blew out a breath. “I’m assuming you two were close.”

  “Very.” Before he’d joined the Navy, they’d been inseparable.

  She met his gaze, her eyes holding sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

  I’m sorry. Not, why was Shane in prison? When most people learned his brother had been incarcerated, that was the first question out of their mouths. “You didn’t ask why,” he said, now curious.

  “If you wanted me to know, I figured you tell me.” She set her holster and weapon on the couch, then stepped closer. “Do you want to tell me?”

  Looking away, he drew in a deep breath. “Yes and no. I…don’t want to lose your respect.”

  She touched his jaw. “You’re not the one who’s in prison.”

  Guilt balled in his stomach. “Yeah, but it’s my fault he’s there.”

  “Like it’s your fault Cole’s in prison,” she said with heavy sarcasm.

  “Not quite.” He moved backward toward the bookshelf, then turned and looked at the photograph. “But close enough.”

  “If it hurts too much, you don’t have to tell me anything.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “But I’m here and I’m a good listener.”

  He reached up and placed his hand over hers, then turned and pulled her into his arms. “You’re good at a lot of things.”

  She frowned and pushed away. “I was being serious.”r />
  “So was I.”

  “Yeah, but you were talking about sex. I thought…and maybe I’m wrong, that there was more than sex between us.”

  Damn, he was an idiot. “I’m sorry. I was only joking.”

  “And I love your sense of humor, but you know what I’ve noticed? You’re quick with a smile and a joke, but a lot of times, that smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Does that make sense?”

  He looked away and nodded. “Pretending to have fun is easy.” He met her gaze. “For the record, I’ve never pretended anything with you.”

  She moved close again. “I haven’t either,” she said, and held his biceps. “Why is your brother in prison?”

  He looked into her eyes and found trust. Not judgment, but…friendship. “A year after what happened in Pakistan, I left the Navy. Shane met me in Norfolk to pick me up and fly me home. But instead of taking me back to Everglade City, he’d gone and rented a fancy hotel room, made dinner reservations and had the whole night lined up for us. He wanted to celebrate, when all I wanted was to go home and try to forget.”

  He clenched his jaw as memories from that night collided together in a blur of shots, beers, loud music and violence. “After I told Shane about Pakistan and what happened to Cole, I proceeded to get drunk.” He shook his head, still disgusted by his behavior. “Shane did, too. We weren’t driving, weren’t getting into any trouble, just having a good time and catching up. But then this guy starts something. Apparently I stumbled into his girl on the way to the bathroom and somehow offended her or him—who knows? I don’t remember what he said or what I said, all I remember was Shane telling him to eff off. The guy walks away, but…I don’t know…five, maybe ten minutes later, he comes back and coldcocks me.”

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped. “I take it Shane came to your defense.”

  He nodded. “According to Shane and witnesses at the bar, the guy turned on my brother, who hauled off and punched him. He fell back, hit his temple against the corner of a table and that was that.”

  She tightened her grip on his arms. “He died?” she asked, her eyes widening.

  “A few days later. It’s also why I never bothered answering your questions about spending Thanksgiving with my family. My mom blames me for Shane being in prison and refuses to talk to me.”

  She quickly hugged him, then kissed his cheek. “Tell me you don’t hold yourself responsible,” she said, cupping his face. “Never mind, I can see the guilt in your eyes, which is total crap. What happened that night was a freak accident. What happened in Pakistan…was Cole’s decision.” She tensed and narrowed her eyes. “Does Shane blame you?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Then why are you blaming yourself?”

  “Wouldn’t you?” he asked, growing irritated. He should never have said anything. There hadn’t been a reason to tell Lola about Shane, or how his mom no longer spoke to him. But, damn it, other than Barney, and even Melanie, he’d alienated himself from past friendships. Everglade City was a small town, and he’d hated running into people he and Shane knew. He hated having to tell them his brother was in prison for murder—because of him.

  So why the hell had he opened his big mouth? Maybe he’d wanted Lola to feel sorry for him. Or maybe he’d wanted her to give him the freedom to feel sorry for himself.

  “Of course I’d blame myself.” She twined her arms around his neck when he tried to pull away. “Do you remember what you told me in the marsh, that you wanted and craved my innocence? Now I understand what you meant. You’ve been beating yourself up for almost a decade, and taking on everyone else’s guilt.” Her breath hitched. “Is that why you decided to help CORE? Are you that desperate to make amends with yourself that you’d willingly risk your life?”

  He wrapped his hands around her arms and disconnected them. “I did it as a favor to Dante. Nothing more.”

  At least that’s what he’d told himself when Dante had initially called him. But Lola could be right. Maybe he’d taken the mission to save a couple of innocent lives in order to selfishly convince himself that, deep down, he still had it. He’d been a SEAL. He had gone on deadly missions, had saved lives, had been brave and badass. Except everything he’d done during his career with the Navy had been negated the day he’d cowardly let his captain and friend be sentenced to prison, and again when Shane had gone to prison because of circumstances that had involved him, not his brother.

  Yeah, guilt haunted him, and always would. He still had his freedom. Shane and Cole would, too—eventually. Once they were on the outside, he’d still hang onto that guilt, for Shane and Cole’s lost years…for not being the hero.

  “We better head over to the rental house,” he said, moving toward the hallway.

  She grabbed his arm, then rounded him, tears filling her eyes. “I hate what’s happened to Cole and Shane. I understand why you blame yourself, even if I disagree. But none of that changes the respect I have for you.”

  He captured a tear with his thumb. “What’s this for?”

  “You.”

  His chest tightened. Not with guilt, but with anger. Shane, Cole… He’d been the butt of a cruel cosmic joke twice now, and it looked as if he was the butt again. He had finally found a woman he could see himself dating, a woman who might actually care about him, but he couldn’t have her.

  Lola’s phone rang. She blinked a couple of times, then pulled the phone from her jacket pocket. “It’s Harrison,” she said, then answered.

  While she talked to Harrison, he finished gathering what he’d need to take with him to the rental house, then went to the kitchen to make sure Sadie had plenty of food and water. When Lola set the phone down and leaned over the kitchen island, he told himself to say something about their interrupted conversation, but, at this point, he saw no need to dredge up more old memories. If Jackass paid them a visit, he’d need to be ready, not off in some frickin’ la-la land of guilt.

  “I take it they’re looking for you,” he said, setting Sadie’s water dish on the floor.

  She gave him an eye roll, then shoved the phone in her pack. “No. Asian Lola need bring Vlad donut,” she said, mimicking the Russian.

  Chuckling, he reached for a to-go mug. “That guy’s funny. Why does he call you Asian Lola?”

  “I asked him, and got, ‘Is not Lola Asian?’” She grinned and shook her head. “It doesn’t bother me. Vlad’s an okay guy.”

  “Yeah, Barney’s taken a liking to both him and Harrison.” He filled the mug. “There’s a donut shop on the way. There’s also a dollar store not far from it I want to stop at, too.” He held up the coffee pot. “Would you like a coffee?”

  “No. I’d like to go back to our conversation.”

  “I noticed you left your things in my room. I take it you’re planning on coming back.”

  “Was I being presumptuous?” She cocked her head, and raised an accusing brow. “You did promise me turkey.”

  Grinning, he set the pot down and moved around the island. “I make good on my promises,” he said, pulling her into his arms.

  “Good. Then promise me you’ll think about what we talked about.”

  “Only if you promise to make me a pie.”

  Her lips spread into a wide smile. “Do you mind frozen store-bought?”

  Unable to resist, he kissed her. “Not as long as you don’t mind rotisserie chicken in lieu of turkey.”

  She ran her fingers through his hair. “Boxed mashed potatoes and gravy from a jar?”

  “Love the stuff,” he said, then tasted her lips again. Before the kiss became too heated, with reluctance, he pulled away. “We better go.”

  Twenty minutes later he pulled into the driveway of the rental house and parked alongside Barney’s old station wagon.

  “Looks like Barney’s back with the guys,” Lola said, then, carrying the box of donuts, exited the truck.

  He grabbed the bag filled with his recent purchases from the back seat. As he closed the door, he scanned the front yard. Dur
ing the day, the Key West style home looked quaint and a hell of a lot less formidable than when he’d been here two nights ago. The yard was small and well-manicured. Large six-foot firebushes worked as a natural fence along both the right and left side of the lawn. Clusters of saw palmettoes had been planted near the carport, their large spiky fronds blocking the utility box. Ferns hung from the front porch, which had been landscaped with a variety of purple, pink and white annuals and perennials, while several palm trees stood near the edge of the house by the firebushes.

  “Do you think you bought enough?” Lola asked, glancing to the bag he held.

  “I think we’ll be good. Let’s check out the backyard, though.”

  When they reached the back, Lola let out a moan, and not the good kind. “More mangroves.”

  The house had been nestled in front of a mangrove forest. Based on where the rental had been built, that meant beyond the forest was a channel. If Jackass was aware of the channel, he could easily canoe through it, hike across the mangroves, cross the yard and reach the house. But Ryan would make sure they heard him coming.

  “Let’s head inside. I want to make these tripwires and get them set up in the yard.”

  “I can help you,” Lola said, grateful for something to do besides sitting around the house and waiting for Jackass to attack. Being around the others and keeping her hands busy would hopefully help keep her mind off Ryan.

  Last night had been wonderful. The sex—she wished they’d had time to lie in bed this morning. Since Ryan had invited her to stay the weekend, she planned to ask Ian for a few extra days before returning to Chicago. Heaviness settled on her chest as she went through the back door Ryan held open for her. When they had been kissing and loving each other’s bodies, she had told herself not to let her emotions come into play where Ryan was concerned. But damn… After being with him, falling asleep in with arms, waking up to his warm body, she wanted more time. Except, the more time she spent with Ryan, the harder it would be to leave him.

  He was a good man who carried a ridiculous amount of guilt. After growing up around snarky, spoiled rich kids who’d had no problem throwing the token Asian kid under the bus, she didn’t trust easily. That Ryan had trusted her enough to share what he’d been dealing with all these years meant a great deal to her. If she wasn’t careful, he could come to mean a great deal to her.