by Jen Talty
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Kick glared. “You’ve not for one second believed your brother killed himself. You’ve always thought something hinky was going on, so are you really going to tell me you didn’t for one second think your brother’s phone—”
She poked him in the chest. Heat coiled through her veins. “Until we got to Monty’s, I totally believed it was possible that my brother had lost his shit. I didn’t know why, and I certainly believed whatever had pushed him over the edge had been something caused by someone else. I didn’t want to think that, but I hadn’t gone all conspiracy theory until Monty wound up dead and people were shooting at us.”
“You should have given it to me then.” His seething stare didn’t let up. He folded his arms across his chest. Nothing worse than having the man you just slept with look at you with disgust and disappointment.
“I’m giving it to you now.”
“You called for me?” Clayton asked as he appeared in the hallway with a smile that quickly faded.
“Get Shamus and meet me in the Arny’s office.” He handed the phone to his buddy. “I’ll be there in a minute. And don’t turn that sucker on, got it?”
“Sure thing.” Clayton nodded. “Anything else?”
“That’s it,” Kick said with snarl as he leaned against the wall.
She waited until his friend had disappeared around the corner. “You’re being an asshole.”
“You’re a smart woman. I can’t believe you turned that on at the cabin.”
“My mind was elsewhere.” Poor excuse, but it was the truth. For more than just the phone. “There is one other thing I need to tell you.”
“Fucking wonderful,” he mumbled. “I can’t stand lying, and it seems that’s all you’ve done since the second we met.”
“An asshole and a dick.” She narrowed her eyes. Now she just wanted to be mean and find a way to hurt him. “You didn’t use a condom, and I’m not on the pill.”
Kick’s brows shot up. His arms dropped to his sides. “I…I…I…shit.”
“Just thought being honest would be a good plan,” she said with venom.
He opened his mouth two or three times but said nothing.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“You should have stopped me.”
“You should have used a condom,” she spat back.
He tapped his finger against his chest. “If you are pregnant, I hope that you’d tell me.” All the color drained from his face.
“I would. Will.” Guilt plagued her brain. She could have handled this a little bit better. Just because he was being a jerk didn’t mean she had to be a bitch. “But I think the timing is off.” She went to pat his shoulder but thought better of the physical contact. She’d dumped two things on him at once, and the latter seemed to hit him harder than she thought it would.
“Any more lies I need to know about?”
“You don’t forgive easy, do you?”
“Women have proven they don’t generally deserve it.”
Chapter 8
If his mother were still alive, she would have washed his mouth out with soap for being such a big idiot when it came to Cassandra. He totally understood why she hadn’t said anything about the phone. Maybe not after they slept together, but they hadn’t been alone for her to inform him of the gadget or the fact she’d turned it on.
He continued to pace in the large office while Shamus and Clayton each took a seat on the sofa on the other side of the big desk in the center of the room.
“What do you want to do?” Swede’s voice echoed over the speaker.
“I want to turn the damn thing on,” Kick muttered.
“Not with my daughter anywhere near it.” Arny swiveled in his big, brown leather office chair.
Kick hadn’t wanted Arny in on this meeting, but he wasn’t given a choice. Kick scratched his cheek. The stubble tickled his fingertips. “Cassandra told me there’s farm housing near the playhouse. What if we turned the phone on when we’re out there? Draw the bad guys to the house. We can set up a sting, while I keep Cassandra safe.” This was Kick’s operation, and he called the shots. Only, he wished he trusted his instincts were on target, otherwise, he would be putting an innocent woman in danger.
Again.
“I don’t like that,” Arny said, pressing his palms against the wooden desk. “It’s too risky.”
“It’s a risk we have to take if we’re going to find out the truth,” Kick said. “Swede, is Trisha all tapped into the system?”
“She sure is, why?” Swede asked. “What are you thinking?”
“There are cameras all over this place, so we should be able to see them coming from any side. They are going to want to keep the collateral damage minimal, so as not to draw any more unnecessary attention to themselves.”
“Yeah, but we don’t even know who they are,” Arny butted in.
He had a point, but all roads seemed to lead back to Asia’s father.
“Karl said in his letter two things I believe we need to focus on. First one being, nothing is as it appears to be.” Kick moved toward the door and leaned out in the hallway. Knowing Cassandra, she’d been hovering around the corner, listening. He couldn’t have her knowing the plan. Had that young girl on his last op for the military not known what Kick’s mission had been, he might have been able to save her.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
“I would think that’s in reference to the murder/suicide, but how would he know that before it happened?” Shamus asked what Kick had been thinking.
He hated relying on assumptions, but they had nothing else. “I have to think he didn’t know, but suspected he’d be killed if he didn’t comply with whatever.”
“I’d feel better about all of this if we’d gotten a verifiable yes from those thugs at the cabin,” Swede said. “Bear and Trisha are still working on them, but they ain’t saying much, and the names on the identification cards are bogus.”
Clayton waved a hand. “I’ve met Maxwell.”
“What? When?” Kick asked. Clayton had always been a quiet, reserved man. Of all the guys Kick worked with, Clayton remained a bit of a mystery. They never served together, and even those who had served with Clayton, all said he was a bit of an enigma.
“My mom used to work the strip when I was a little boy,” Clayton said in a monotone voice. “This was long before Maxwell bought his casino, but he was a staple in many clubs, and he had a taste for hookers, my mother being one of them.”
Kick coughed, staring at Clayton, who just shrugged. Shamus’s mouth hung wide open, and Arny’s eyes were as wide as the prairie.
“Well, that’s brand-new information,” Swede said. “What else do you know about this guy?”
“He’s a charmer but has an evil side. I met Asia, his daughter. She was maybe fifteen, and I was home from boot camp. He tried to sell her to me.”
“Fuck,” Arny whispered. “That poor girl.”
“Imagine my surprise when she married your son.” Clayton stood, running a hand through his hair. “I was thrilled she’d been able to get out from under her father’s claw. My mother, on the other hand, ended up at the bottom of Lake Mead when she stole from Maxwell.”
“What the hell did she steal?” Kick shouldn’t have asked the question, but he was sure everyone else was thinking it.
“About two million dollars.” Clayton’s lips drew into a wide smile. “My mother took all the money and gave it to homeless people, other prostitutes, women’s shelters, anyone who was willing to take a hand out. When Maxwell found out, he killed her.” Clayton’s face hardened. “Only, I’ve never been able to prove it.”
“Jesus Christ,” Swede said over the phone. “Does Hank know all this?”
“Of course he does. It’s why he assigned me to help with this gig.” Clayton slapped Kick on the shoulder. “The only things that matter to Maxwell are money and being in control. He lost control of Asia, and that never settled well with him. I�
��m sure he’d do anything to either get her back or make her pay for betraying him.”
“So, what do you think of me then turning on Karl’s phone from the house after Cassandra and I are on our way to the playhouse?” Kick would take whatever input he could so he could make a decision that wouldn’t get anyone killed.
“I think it’s a great idea. If something is hidden in that place, then we’ll have some leverage when he gets here. If we’ve got nothing, we still have Maxwell in our sights.” Clayton lowered his chin. “I might not be able to prove Maxwell killed my mother, but he certainly liked showing up at her funeral, offering his condolences. He all but admitted it to me. I’m sure he’ll enjoy letting Cassandra know what he did to her brother, and this time, we’ll be ready to gather the proof.”
Kick rubbed his chin. If that were the case, then he’d be putting Cassandra in front of a killer, something he didn’t want to do. He couldn’t risk her life. “We need to keep her out of it.”
“I agree,” Arny said, bolting from his chair. “Use me, not her.”
“No.” Clayton held up his hand. “Maxwell is after her, not you, and for a reason. Removing her will just make this harder.”
Kick’s pulse kicked up. As much as he wanted to send Cassandra to Hank’s place, he knew Clayton was right. “Hey, Swede. Do we still have a safe house near here?”
“We do. What are you thinking?”
“It’s settled.” Kick shook out his hands. If this worked, Cassandra might live long enough to never forgive him. “Shamus, take Arny to the safe house. Once Cassandra and I are on horseback, turn on the phone. Draw that fucking asshole to the house. Have the locals on the ready.”
“An old-fashioned sting operation,” Arny said, waving his finger. “But you’re going to have to do it without my daughter.”
“Arny,” Swede interjected. “I trust these men with my life, and frankly, I’d be doing the exact same thing. The only way we are going to gain control of this situation is if we bring them to us. Deal with them on our territory.”
“We’ll be in touch.” Kick ended the call before Arny could argue anymore. “Shamus, take Arny now. For all we know, Maxwell is already on the way.”
Kick stood in front of the barn and stared off into the vast hilly land that made up Country Sweet Ranch. About two hundred yards away, on the top of the third hill, stood a tall mast. A pirate flag was flapping in the breeze. Just beyond the ship, there was a grouping of small homes along with a long building with fifteen doors across the front. It reminded him of his favorite motel nestled in the mountains in South Carolina on Lake Keowee. The hotel was a far cry from a five-star establishment, but it had a big pool in front of the lake and a huge playground with a kick-ass paintball field.
“Wait until you see it up close.” Cassandra guided two Mustangs from the barn. Both had shiny black coats, but one seemed to have a wild streak as he pranced, kicking his hind legs up in the air and snorting as if he were a bull.
“It does look spectacular.” He reached for the reins of the taller, more high-strung horse.
“Oh no. This one is mine.” Cassandra handed off the other animal. “His name is Chanel.”
“You named a male beast of this magnitude, Chanel?”
The horse snorted as if in agreement.
“I didn’t name him. One of my dad’s farmhands has a daughter with Down syndrome. She didn’t know Chanel was a boy, and my dad couldn’t tell her no. We all think it’s why he’s so temperamental.”
“I would be too with a name like that.” Kick rested his nose on the snout of the other horse, scratching his neck. “And what’s your name?”
“We call him Bradley. But his full name is Vera Bradley.”
“I sense a purse theme going on.” He put his foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up.
“Could be worse. She went through a stage where she named all the horses after television shows.”
“Not sure how MacGyver, or Blue Bloods, or even Better Call Saul would be worse.”
“At the time, she was only five, so her favorite shows were Barney, Zoom, Sesame Street, My Pretty Pony—”
“Yeah, that would be worse.”
She laughed as she dug her heels into the side of the horse.
He followed her out of the corral and into the open field. Being on the back of a horse always felt like home. When he’d been a kid, riding had been his happy place. It’s where he went when he needed to clear his head.
He’d spent the last few months riding and thinking about how he could have been so stupid when it came to Eliza Jane. All she’d done was lie and manipulate. She wanted a rich man to lavish her in expensive gifts. He was the former but refused the latter. Not that he didn’t buy her nice things, because he did. However, nothing was good enough for Eliza Jane. It wasn’t about having the best or finest things, just the most expensive. She wanted people to stop and stare at her when she entered a room.
He could have tolerated the need for flashy things. Hell, he liked his trucks and owned two. He also had a Harley and his own helicopter. But he couldn’t live with her lies. It had started with her age. Okay, a lot of women lied about that. Easily forgivable that she was two years older than him, and not two years younger.
But when she lied about being pregnant, that had been the last straw. He often wondered if he hadn’t found out when he had, how she was going to tell him she’d never been with child. Probably would have said she had a miscarriage.
And he would have believed her, even though he would have known deep down it was a lie.
What really killed him, though, had been the fact she’d been stealing from him since their very first date. She’d never loved him and never would. Their entire relationship had been a scam from the get-go. Just one horrible lie after the other.
He heeled Bradley and brought the horse up to a trot and fell in line with Cassandra.
She had also lied to him. And more than once. But he gave her a pass considering all that she’d been dealing with. Besides, she wasn’t his girlfriend. She didn’t owe him anything.
But she could be carrying his child.
He coughed on the thought. Having children hadn’t been a priority in his life and being married in the military was a hard road, especially in special forces. When he’d gotten out, he thought a little more about it, especially after spending time with his brothers and their kids.
Then Eliza Jane gave him a gift he hadn’t known he had wanted so badly, and when he found out it had been a bold-faced lie, it destroyed a piece of his heart in a way he didn’t think could be mended.
“Do you want to have children?” He closed his eyes for a brief moment, swallowing the lump in this throat. This was not a topic of conversation they should be having right now.
Cassandra snapped her gaze in his direction, pulling up on the reins. “Are you asking because I could be pregnant? Or just making idle conversation?”
“Both.”
“Fair enough.” She nodded. “I honestly haven’t given it that much thought. I didn’t date for years after Monty and I broke up and when I did, well, let’s just say I have bad taste in men.”
“How so?”
“Well, Monty had so many issues, it’s amazing he functioned in the real world as long as he did. I loved him with all my heart and soul, but I would have ended up resenting him, and he would have hated me trying to push him to be different. It took me years to get over him and when I finally did, I ended up in a long-term relationship with a con artist. Imagine my surprise when he called asking for bail money. Once again, I gave up on men until I met my last boyfriend. I didn’t know he was married until his wife showed up at my doorstep one day. She was six months pregnant. Since then, I’ve stayed clear of men.”
“Wow. You’ve got worse taste in men than I do women.”
She lifted her hat. “And yet, we slept with each other, so what does that say about us?”
“Hey. I’ll have you know that my sister will tell yo
u I’m husband material, simply because I know how to put the toilet seat down, I keep a spotless kitchen, and I make a mean chili.”
When she smiled, her rich eyes sparkled. “I stand corrected. You’re the catch of the county.” She waggled her finger. “But would you make for a good father?”
He took his hat off and wiped the perspiration beading across his forehead. “I’d like to believe I would, but I’m starting to think that ship has sailed. I’m not getting any younger.”
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Almost forty. You?” He’d taken a huge risk for someone he barely knew. When he’d been with Eliza Jane, they always used protection. She insisted, saying she just wasn’t ready to even think about starting a family, and he was on board with that. She wanted to wait until they’d been married for a year or two. Six months into the relationship, he started to see what a manipulator she’d been and that’s when she told him she was pregnant.
She wasn’t ready to let her money train go.
Nor was her mother.
He felt sorry for anyone and their bank account who tangled up with that mother/daughter tag team.
“Thirty-three.”
The sound of children laughing filled the fresh air. Eliza Jane had made him want more out of life, then she ripped it from him, turning his heart cold.
Until Cassandra.
Now all he could think about was spending time getting to know this woman. But soon, she’d be headed back to Florida, and he’d be staying here.
“Do you want to have kids?” she asked. “Since we’re on the subject.”
In the distance, he could see a group of children rolling down a hill. His heart skipped a beat. He looked around in search of grown-ups. Clayton was supposed to get word to the ranch hands that they needed to take cover. Of course, he needed to do that without causing alarm.
Once the kids got to the bottom of the hill, they’d jump up and run back to the playground right next to a massive playhouse. It stood maybe ten feet tall, so it wasn’t made for adults. But it spanned a good fifty feet in length and maybe twenty-five feet in depth. The dark-stained wood made it look more like a cabin than a house. The pirate ship, which he guessed to be fifty feet long and twenty-five feet wide, was situated on the far side of the playground, farther from the family homes and apartments. A mesh of rope filled the space between the mast and where a jib sheet would be. A group of boys, maybe ten or eleven, climbed up it.
