Wild Heart

by Tripp Ellis

  I gave her a suspicious gaze. "If you promise to behave yourself."

  She scoffed. "Me? You're the one who is a bad influence."

  My brow lifted incredulously. "Okay. Whatever."

  "I can't help it if you're hopelessly attracted to me. It's not my fault."

  I rolled my eyes.

  "And believe me. I'm not going anywhere near you after you’ve been with that psycho chick." She paused. "Have you heard any more from her?"

  "Not since she was waiting at JD's car for us on Oyster Avenue.”

  Teagan's brow lifted, and her jaw dropped. "She really is stalking you. You must have some good stuff if she got hooked after two days."

  "I have my redeeming qualities," I said with a grin. "Why don't you get together some things, and we’ll head back to the marina?”

  She smiled. "Yay! I really appreciate you looking after me."

  "That's what friends are for."

  I waited while Teagan gathered a change of clothes and put together an overnight kit. When she was ready, we pushed down the foyer, and I unlatched the door. I kept a wary hand on the grip of my pistol, ready to draw it from its holster at a moment’s notice. I pulled open the door and looked in either direction down the hallway.

  It was clear.

  I ushered Teagan out of the apartment, and she locked the door behind us. We rushed down the hallway to the elevator and pressed the call button. Teagan fidgeted as we waited for the lift to arrive.

  I kept a watchful eye on the stairwells at either end of the hallway.

  The doors slid open, and we stepped inside. I think Teagan got even more freaked out in the claustrophobic space. We plummeted down to the first floor. The doors opened, and I poked my head out and scanned in all directions.

  The lobby was clear.

  I shuffled Teagan out of the elevator, and we waited in the lobby until the ride-share arrived. Then we rushed down the sidewalk to the curb and hopped into the car.

  Teagan breathed a sigh of relief once we were on our way back to the marina.

  41

  The drama for the night wasn't over. As we walked along the dock to the Avventura, it became clear I had a visitor. Phoebe waited on the aft deck. Rage filled her eyes when she saw Teagan. Her anger was compounded by the fact that Teagan had baggage and was clearly spending the night.

  Phoebe went into a tirade. "I knew it. How long have you been fucking her behind my back?"

  I was stunned at her inability to grasp reality. “Whoa! Hang on a minute. There is no behind your back. Phoebe, you’re out of line. You need to leave. Now.”

  “You’re the one who’s out of line!” she screeched.

  Teagan took shelter behind me.

  “You’re trespassing. You need to leave.”

  “I’m trespassing? That’s rich. She’s the one who’s trespassing. She needs to get her own man.”

  There was no reasoning with her.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t stay here tonight,” Teagan whispered.

  “No. It’s fine. I’ll handle this,” I said to Teagan, then addressed Phoebe. “I understand you’re upset, and I’m sorry if you feel I led you on in any way. But it’s over. And it’s beyond repair. Now, please leave.”

  She snarled like a demon. “You think I’m going to let you use me like a cheap whore and get away with it?”

  I had enough of the nonsense, and the situation had the potential to go terribly wrong. I pulled out my phone and called the Sheriff’s Department. “This is Deputy Wild. Could you send a patrol unit to the marina at Diver Down? There’s a trespasser on my property.”

  Phoebe’s eyes bulged with anger, and she looked like she was about to explode. “You just made a big mistake.”

  “Oh, really? How so?”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she seethed with anger. "Oh, just wait. You can't fuck me over like this and get away with it."

  "Nobody is screwing anybody over, Phoebe. I'm sorry if there was a misunderstanding between us.”

  She clenched her jaw and fumed.

  The patrol car pulled into the parking lot and spun up the red and blue lights, cascading a wash of color over the marina.

  "Looks like your ride is here," I said.

  Phoebe glared at me. She did not like my one-liner one bit. She stormed across the passerelle to the dock, and we gave her a wide berth. "You're seriously going to have me arrested?"

  "I asked you politely to leave."

  “You’re going to regret this." Her face twisted, and she snarled again. She charged at me, fists flailing, pounding my chest.

  Erickson and Faulkner rushed down the dock, having seen the attack.

  I grabbed Phoebe's arms and kept her from punching me. The deputies pulled her away and cuffed her.

  She screeched a slew of obscenities, practically frothing at the mouth.

  The deputies dragged her down the dock and stuffed her in the back of the patrol car, kicking and screaming.

  Phoebe was unhinged.

  I escorted Teagan aboard the Avventura and unlocked the salon door. She was already frazzled, and this didn’t help. I told her I'd be back momentarily and to make herself at home.

  I jogged down the dock to the parking lot and caught up with the deputies. It was all they could do to keep from laughing their asses off.

  "What's the matter, Wild? She too much for you to handle?" Erickson said with a snicker.

  "I thought it best to have other officers present, given the situation.”

  I was never going to live this down. They would tease me incessantly.

  "What the hell did you do to her?" Faulkner asked.

  “Nothing. I swear!”

  "You sure can pick ‘em, Wild," Erickson said.

  Faulkner said, “All joking aside, I witnessed her assault you. She already has two trespassing charges on file."

  I paused. I didn’t want to do it, but this was out of control. "Book her on trespassing and assault. Let her spend the night in jail. Maybe that will calm her down. If the harassment stops, I’ll drop the charges.”

  Faulkner shrugged. "Whatever you say."

  They climbed into the patrol car and pulled away.

  Phoebe glared at me through the window, her scornful eyes throwing daggers.

  I hustled back down the dock to the Avventura. Teagan waited for me in the salon.

  “Geez, Tyson. That was freaky. That girl is dangerous.”

  “A night in jail ought to put things in perspective.”

  “She has a history of this type of behavior. I don’t think a night in jail is going to do anything to deter her. You need to get a restraining order.”

  “That’s not going to do much good either,” I said.

  “Yeah, but it’s something.”

  I didn’t want to admit it, but it was becoming a problem.

  “Where do you want me?” Teagan asked.

  That would normally have been a loaded question, but we were both in a different state of mind.

  “There are plenty of guest rooms. Take your pick—except the VIP on the main deck. That’s Jack’s.”

  I escorted Teagan below deck and showed her the offerings. She selected a queen berth with a private en suite. I left her to get settled and told her I was going to the galley to fix a sandwich. I asked her if she wanted any midnight rations. She said she'd be up in a minute.

  I had some lunch meat in the fridge and made a couple of chicken sandwiches on whole wheat. We talked about the crazy events of the evening. We shared a few nervous laughs once the tension had dissipated.

  "I'm still a little wound up,” Teagan said. “I don't think I can sleep. You want to watch a movie or something?"

  "Sure."

  We moved up to the theater room on the bridge deck and reclined in comfy leather chairs that leaned all the way back. Buddy joined us as we streamed a movie.

  Teagan fell asleep halfway through. I found a blanket and covered her up. I debated whether I should let her sleep in the chair or wake her u
p.

  "Hey, sleepyhead. Do you want to go to your room, or do you want to stay here all night?"

  She groaned and kept her eyes closed. She mumbled, "I'm not asleep."

  I laughed.

  "Yes, you are."

  "I'll get up in a minute."

  I left her in the theater room and kept the aisle lighting on so she could get around if she got up in the middle of the night. I moved aft down the passageway to my stateroom, brushed my teeth, and climbed in bed.

  It was a crazy evening, and I had never experienced anything quite like it. Phoebe’s view of reality was so warped, it made you question your own sanity.

  When I peeled open my eyes in the morning, I found something I didn’t expect. Teagan had stumbled into my stateroom at some point during the night and curled up next to me.

  She was a pleasant sight.

  Teagan had peeled out of her clothes, and they were in a jumble on the deck. She still wore her bra and panties, the sheets half covering her luscious form. She was like a dessert tray at a fancy restaurant—the kind where you want to sample every delight.

  I resisted the urge to snuggle up and see what developed.

  Isabella called as the morning sun slipped through the windows. I grabbed the phone from the nightstand and held it to my ear. "It seems like your friend resurfaced."

  “Armando? Where?" I asked in a scratchy voice.

  42

  I climbed out of bed and finished the call in another compartment so as not to disturb Teagan.

  "Looks like Armando is in Playa,” Isabella said. "His phone popped up on the grid long enough to call his girlfriend. I suppose he'll ditch that phone soon and acquire another one, but I'll keep tabs on Shiloh’s line and monitor the incoming calls."

  "I appreciate that."

  "I know you do.”

  “Also, I got info on Juan Valverde. He’s a mid-level cartel guy. Runs a club in Mexico. He’s a frequent visitor to the States. So far, the DEA can’t get anything on him, but it’s clear he handles stateside operations in Coconut Key. The guy is clever. Looks like he’s moving money around with a series of shell corporations. Also, I did some research on the tail number of the plane that Armando flew out on. It’s registered out of Aruba, and I can’t determine actual ownership. But I’d bet you it belongs to the cartel, and they facilitated Armando’s exit.”

  “Shiloh says they’re old friends.”

  “Friends or not, something tells me they don’t want Armando in custody, and they certainly don’t want him talking about the operation. I’m sure you already know this, but Shiloh is going to be a high-priority target for them. So, stay frosty.”

  “Always.”

  "I'll keep you posted,” she said before ending the call.

  I called Shiloh.

  "I was just about to call you," she said.

  "I know you spoke with Armando. What did he say?"

  "The usual. He swore up and down he was going to kill me. That he was going to come back when I least expected it. He said he would make my death slow and painful. I told him that summed up my entire time with him. Just to rattle his cage, I told him I was going to fuck all his friends and everyone he knew."

  I laughed. “How did he take that?"

  "It was kind of comical, actually. He just went off screaming. So, I hung up on him." She paused. "Do you really think he’s stupid enough to come back here and try something?"

  "I don't know. Some people just can't control themselves. They let anger cloud their judgment. Have you talked to anybody else since you’ve been at the Seven Seas? Friends, family?”

  “I called Cassidy. Why?”

  “Did you tell her where you were staying?”

  “Yeah.”

  I groaned.

  “What’s the big deal. She’s not going to tell Armando.”

  “Is the deputy still outside your room?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Do you want me to check?”

  “Call through the door and see if he’s still there, but do not open the door for anyone.”

  “Okay, hang on…”

  Shiloh put the phone down and moved to the door. I heard her shout to the Deputy outside. "Are you still there?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  She returned to the phone a moment later. "He’s still there. Everything's fine. Relax.”

  “I need Cassidy's number."

  "Okay. I’ll text it to you.”

  "Stay put. Don't leave the room.”

  “Yes, Boss," she mocked.

  The contact info buzzed my phone a moment later, and I called Cassidy. The phone rang a few times, then went to voicemail. I left a message and asked her to return my call as soon as possible.

  I called Sheriff Daniels. “Operational security has been compromised. I think we should move Shiloh over to the Hyton.”

  He groaned. “What part of don’t contact anyone do these people not understand?” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Deputy Pierce is standing watch at the Seven Seas. Go over there and escort the girl to another location. This time make sure she doesn’t tell anyone where she is. Take away her damn cell phone.”

  "You got it."

  "Oh, by the way, your girlfriend was arraigned this morning. She bonded out. Just thought you might like to know."

  "She's not my girlfriend."

  "Seems like she doesn't know that."

  I left a note for Teagan that I had to leave, then grabbed my helmet and gloves. I jogged to the parking lot, hopped on my bike, and cruised to the Seven Seas.

  Shiloh was staying in Suite #317. I'd specifically instructed the deputies not to put her in a bungalow for security reasons.

  Deputy Pierce stood outside the door, looking bored out of his mind. He was excited to see a familiar face. We greeted each other with a handshake.

  "Daniels called, said we’re moving the girl,” Pierce said.

  I nodded and banged on the door. "Shiloh? It's Deputy Wild."

  There was no answer.

  I knocked again, starting to grow concerned. "Shiloh. Open the door."

  43

  Shiloh finally pulled open the door with an agitated look on her face. “Geez. Chill out. I was in the bathroom.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Pack your things. Change of venue.”

  I had barely gotten the words out when the snap of a suppressed bullet echoed down the hallway.

  The copper round tore through the air and smacked into Deputy Pierce’s head with a wet slap. It drilled through one side of his skull and blasted out the other, painting the walls, and myself, with everything that made Deputy Pierce who he was.

  His lifeless body collapsed to the carpet as two gunmen closed in—one on either end of the hallway. They wore ski masks, and their stealthy barrels spit fury in my direction. Bullets crisscrossed the passageway, zipping past my ears, smacking into the wall. Plumes of gypsum erupted from the impacts.

  I pushed into the hotel room and slammed the door behind me, latching the deadbolt. I ushered Shiloh to the far end of the room and had her take cover on the floor behind the bed near the balcony.

  I took a position behind the solid wood desk and aimed my weapon at the doorway. I called Sheriff Daniels and apprised him of the situation. "I need backup, now!"

  The goons were at the doorway and unleashed a torrent of bullets into the locking mechanism. The door rattled and quaked as they kicked it, shaking the walls, vibrating the mirrors on the sliding doors to the closet. It didn't take long before the door gave way and swung open, shards of wood splintering in all directions.

  With a goon lined up in my sights, I squeezed the trigger multiple times, the weapon hammering against my palm. Muzzle flash flickered from the barrel. The sharp smell of gunpowder filled my nose as the deafening report echoed throughout the small room. If anybody was sleeping in on this floor, they weren’t now.

  A volley of gunfire erupted. Bullets whizzed across the room, smacking walls, paintings, and the flatscreen display. Glass popped and c
rackled as bullets pelted the sliding glass doors to the balcony. Glimmering shards rained down.

  My bullets took out the first goon, punching cavernous holes into his chest. Blood spewed as he tumbled back. He writhed on the floor in agony as his partner took cover around the doorframe.

  We exchanged a few more volleys, and I drilled several rounds into the drywall, hoping to penetrate the other side.

  A moment later, I heard his footsteps stomp against the carpet as he retreated down the hall.

  The desk that I had crouched behind had multiple bullets embedded into the wood.

  My ears rang.

  I looked at Shiloh, trembling on the carpet, half underneath the bed. "Are you okay?"

  "I think so." Her face was pale, and her eyes wide.

  I glanced over her body, looking for any signs of trauma. She seemed okay.

  I advanced to the door and kicked the pistol out of reach of the fallen goon. It spiraled across the carpet into the hallway. I peered down the corridor to see his comrade hobble away.

  I knelt down and pulled off the ski mask from the fallen goon.

  It was Kendrick.

  The goon running down the hallway must have been Remy.

  I clipped him pretty good because there was a steady stream of blood staining the carpet. He aimed over his shoulder and fired two more shots at me.

  I ducked back into the hotel room as the bullets exploded near the door frame.

  The thug pushed into the stairwell. The metal door clinked, then slammed shut behind him.

  Erickson and Faulkner stepped off the elevator and raced toward me.

  “Look after Shiloh,” I shouted, then I took off down the hall, chasing after the perp.

  Curious guests began to crack open their doors and peer into the corridor. I shouted for everyone to stay inside their rooms as I ran down the hallway.

  I reached the steel fire door to the stairwell and cautiously pushed inside. The echo of the thug’s footsteps filled the stairway as he plummeted below. I leaned over the railing and saw him spiral down the switchback staircase.

  I plunged down the steps, chasing after him as fast as I could. My heart pounded, and I skipped down the steps, trying not to bust my ass or turn an ankle.