Ruthless (Crescent Cove: Viper Force Book 2)

by Marlie May

  “Glad the book incident wasn’t directed my way,” Flint said, rubbing his shoulder. “I’d be the last one to creep up on you on your birthday.”

  “Yeah, sure.” If Christmas hadn’t stopped him from tossing water balloons off the loft while I sat on the sofa underneath, why would my twenty-ninth birthday be any different? From the slick look Flint sent Eli’s way, I had a feeling I’d been pranked after all, even if Eli was unaware of the role he’d played in my brother’s latest trick.

  “Let’s go inside, shall we?” I said, waving at the door. “How about a cease-fire from teasing on my birthday?”

  Flint held the door open for me to enter first. “Don’t see no white flag.”

  “As if. I’d never surrender.”

  We were soon relaxing on the restaurant’s deck overlooking the ocean. Eli and I sat on one side of the wooden table, opposite Jax and Flint. Cooper took a seat on the end. We chowed through numerous plates of burritos and nachos, washing the crispy-cheesy goodness down with tall glasses of cerveza.

  “What happened to your leg?” I asked Eli quietly.

  His hand flew to his right thigh and he rubbed. “Just a little encounter with an IED.”

  “Femur?”

  He nodded. “Put me out of commission for a while.”

  A painful injury, then. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Not much I can do about it now.”

  I could tell the topic made him uncomfortable, the last thing I wanted to do. A quick subject change was in order, stat. “So, tell me about those romance novels you love. Are the Highlander ones really your favorites?”

  “Shit, bro. Romances?” Flint reeled backward with pretend horror plastered across his face. “Don’t tell me you’re into that stuff, too?”

  Color landed squarely in Eli’s chiseled cheeks. Blushing only made him look hotter because it hinted at his vulnerable side. He straightened and yanked on the neck of his t-shirt. “I’ve read a few.”

  “That’s a complete betrayal of mankind.” Jax’s words came out serious but the sparkle in his deep blue eyes indicated he was only poking fun.

  Flint sipped his beer and then cocked one eyebrow Jax’s way. “Maybe if you read a few romances, you’d learn how to talk to women. Then you wouldn’t find yourself blanking at inopportune times.”

  “Burn,” Eli said with a grin. His glance between the men made it clear he was enjoying the show.

  “Women like to go out with me. Talk to me,” Jax said with a huff. “I…” His gaze met mine, and my mind shot again to my cousin, Haylee. “Yeah, sometimes.”

  Haylee’s eyes followed Jax whenever he was around. Didn’t he see that? Maybe I should share my favorite cookie recipes with her.

  Eli turned to me. “As I was saying earlier, I really like Dag Ross’s books. There’s something awesome about a spunky woman who can put a beefy Highlander in his place in two seconds flat.”

  Repeat performance: my jaw dropped. I leaned toward him, eager to share my favorite books, but Flint abruptly pulled his phone and answered an incoming call.

  He listened for a moment, then said, “Okay. Hold tight. We’ll be there right away.” As he put his phone away, he directed an intent gaze to me. “I’m sorry but something’s come up on the job. We have to take care of this now.”

  “Showtime.” Cooper tossed his napkin on his empty plate and stood.

  So much for Flint’s “cushy” security assignment here in Puerto Morelos. Fluffy security jobs never called four ex-Navy guys out on a Friday night.

  I tried not to pout, because I hadn’t seen my brother in over a month and I was enjoying getting to know Eli again. “I thought you were off until tomorrow.”

  “In my business,” Flint said. “I’m never off-duty.”

  Kiddie drones, right?

  “Trouble?” Eli asked quietly, his forearms braced on the table.

  Flint’s gaze slid away from mine. “Someone’s…gone missing.” Standing, he dropped a bunch of cash onto the table. “We’ve gotta go.”

  Rising, Jax’s hand darted around to his back as if he needed to make sure he was still packing.

  Stop. He wasn’t armed, was he?

  My gut clenched. What was going on here?

  Eli joined them on the other side of the table, saying so softly, I barely heard his words, “I’m in if you need me.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cooper nudged his chin toward Eli. “Talk about new employee orientation, huh? Nothing like jumping into action your first week on the job.”

  “Action?” I glanced back and forth between the men but their expressions might as well be carved from granite because they gave nothing away. These military guys sure held their secrets close.

  “Well, no, not really action.” Cooper coughed. “It’s—”

  “You’ll go to the hotel immediately, right?” Flint said to me.

  Getting up, I grabbed my clutch off the table. “Crack of dawn flight, so I guess so?” Since the celebration was over, I might as well spend the rest of my evening with a good book. After all, I had a twelve-pack of them waiting in my room.

  Flint came around the table and hugged me. “I promise I’ll be back in time to take you to the airport in the morning.”

  “Wait.” Stepping back, I frowned. “You think you’ll be gone all night?”

  “’Course not,” he said. “This is nothing.” He rubbed my arms and stared down at me. “I’m sorry this job’s ruining your birthday, though.”

  “It’s okay.” I pressed for a smile because it wasn’t like he could help it. “It was still great to see you. We can catch up once you’re home.”

  “Definitely.”

  Cooper nodded. “See you back in Maine.”

  Jax came around the table and bowled me over with a hug, saying by my ear, “Stop by the office soon, will ya? I’ve missed you.”

  I chuckled. “Chocolate chip?” Definitely needed to enlist Haylee for cookie duty.

  He grinned. “Double batch, if it’s not a problem.”

  “Deal.”

  We walked out front, and Jax, Cooper, and Flint strode toward my brother’s rental parked in the lot and climbed inside.

  Eli remained with me.

  “Well,” he said, his attention focused on the pavement. “It was nice meeting up with you again despite the unexpected dip in the sea.” He reached into his pocket and held out a small white box. “Happy Birthday.”

  “Oh, wow.” A thrill ran through me. He’d bought me a gift? “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “Eli?” Flint called, standing inside the open driver’s door. Brows lifted, he nudged his chin toward the black SUV. “Any time, bro.”

  Eli ignored him. “It’s just a little something I thought you’d like.”

  My smile got bigger, because…nothing. This couldn’t mean anything, could it?

  “Eli,” Flint said again, firmer this time.

  Eli watched me, his lips teasing upward.

  “As I said, I’m back in Maine for good, now.” His intent gaze remained on my face. “I imagine we’ll run into each other sometime?”

  Excitement rushed through me at the thought of seeing him on a regular basis. Maybe…Was it possible things could be different this time? After all, I’d moved hundreds of miles away from Russell and the two men were nothing alike. “Sure, I’d like that.”

  He nodded and strode toward the SUV.

  My pulse racing too fast from such a simple conversation, I watched him—couldn’t help watching him, actually—until he’d climbed into the vehicle and Flint squealed out of the parking lot.

  Dropping onto a bench nearby, I opened the box.

  My breath caught when I saw what he’d given me. The delicate silver chain winked beneath the streetlights when I dangled it. Tossing aside the box, I smiled at the pendant—a small sterling silver daisy.

  Did he remember that time I’d picked a daisy and spontaneously given it to him when I’d stayed on the base t
o help Flint? He’d turned redder than the horizon the night before a storm.

  With a soft smile, I fastened it around my neck, then rose and crossed the road to my hotel. But once I’d reached my room and sat on the bed with my book open on my lap, I sighed. It seemed a shame to spend my last night in Puerto Morelos cooped up in a stuffy hotel room. The ocean would be gorgeous now that the moon had risen, and the sultry-salty air would give me one final taste of Mexico.

  As I left the hotel, I looked around to make sure no one followed. The creepy guy in town must’ve been an isolated incident. Someone looking for an easy tourist mark.

  Arriving at the entrance to the public beach a short time later, I kicked off my sandals. I fingered my necklace as I strolled beside the water, my mind skipping with thoughts of meeting up again with Eli once we were both back in Maine.

  My smile fled and my pulse kicked into overdrive when I tripped over a man lying motionless on the sand.

  The metallic tang of blood hit my sinuses.

  2

  Mia

  Heart jarring, I dropped down beside him and turned on my phone light.

  Mid-fifties. Slender build. Dressed in a suit, which was a weird clothing choice for a beach. He lay curled on his side as if he'd fallen.

  Much like the woman I’d found down in the park back home.

  Determined to give this man a different outcome, I rubbed his shoulder. “Hey. You okay?” His body slumped toward me, and my gasp cut through the air. A dark, glossy pool expanded on the ground well beyond his belly. What was going on here?

  My training kicked in, and I leaned over him, listening. Great, he was breathing. But his pulse was thready which was never a good sign. I shoved aside his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Gulping, I stared down at his belly wound that seeped blood. Crap. A slice. Not a scrape or a puncture from a fall on rocks. A deep slice, too. As if he’d been gutted by a knife.

  He coughed, spewing pink foam, and I jerked back. A lacerated liver? His lungs could be injured, too.

  His eyes opened, and he blinked before narrowing his gaze on my face. His flash of confusion was replaced by tight lines of urgency. “Take it.” His hand rose before dropping back onto the sand. Bloody fluid trickled down the side of his face, tracing a long, white scar on his right cheek. “Take it.”

  “I don’t understand.” My words were snatched up and carried away on the wind.

  He exposed a small notebook taped down snugly beneath his arm.

  My breath caught. “This?” I peeled the tape back until the book came free. Flipping it over, I frowned. A normal notebook, the kind you’d pick up at a dollar store. Why…

  As if he was determined to spend the last of his energy, he lifted his chest off the ground. Fear burst through in his words. “Give it to…to…” Air wheezed from his lungs. He collapsed back onto the sand and his eyes remained open, fixed and unfocused.

  No pulse. Gone. Like the woman I’d been unable to save back home.

  A gust of wind pelted me with sand and slashed my hair across my face. Goosebumps erupted on my arms. As I stuffed the notebook into my pocket, clouds that had engulfed the moon parted. Light stabbed down, exposing the beach. The dead man. Me, kneeling beside him.

  And a bearded man. He rushed toward me, a knife in his hand.

  Fear gripped my heart like a fist. I leaped up and bolted. Heavy thuds pursued me. Belly lurching into my throat, I raced along the beach, aiming for the town lights blazing ahead like a beacon of hope.

  His hand slammed down on my shoulder, and I stumbled forward. My cry erupted from my throat. I twisted, trying to get away.

  When he yanked me toward him, I spun. My palm connected with his nose, and the bones gave with a sickening crunch. He grunted and released me, reaching for his face. Even wounded, he shoved the knife toward me. The blade connected with the soft flesh of my arm.

  My yelp broke through my clenched teeth. Fingers clamped over the wound, I fled, staggering out onto a walkway well-lit with street lights. A parking lot half-full of vehicles lay ahead, plus a cop car sitting on the road just beyond the lot. Dressed in dark blue combat fatigues, a policeman leaned against the driver’s door, talking on a cell phone. Thank heaven. Mexican Federales might be known for questionable tactics regarding tourists and the random drug deal on the side but they were also known for the weapon they carried: an assault rifle.

  I’d never been happier to see a gun-toting man in my life.

  I rushed toward him. A quick glance behind told me the killer had melted into the shadows. Slowing my pace with relief thrumming through me, I limped over to the cop. Blood dripped down my arm, leaving a wavering trail on the pavement. My blood, and I was losing it fast. My teeth chattered as reaction set in.

  “Señora?” Kudos to the cop for only blinking once at my appearance. He stuffed his phone into his pocket while another policeman leaned across the vehicle’s interior, squinting up at me.

  “A man,” I gasped out, waving toward the beach. “Killed someone. Chased me. A knife.”

  The cop grunted. “Español?”

  “Lo siento, no comprendo.” The apology I’d mastered within moments of my arrival in Mexico. “Do you speak English?” The medical mission had supplied translators for my interactions with patients, but my Spanish was limited. I latched onto his arm. “Someone’s dead.” I mimicked a person stabbing someone and flapped my hands to show blood flowing from my stomach. “Muerto.”

  “Muerto?” The policeman peered around. A string of Spanish ensued, rapid-fire and growing louder.

  “Come to the beach.” I tried to tug him in that direction but he didn’t move.

  After opening the rear door of the car, he took my arm and steered me in that direction.

  If we went to the police station, someone would understand me and they’d investigate the situation. I climbed inside the vehicle.

  Hours later, I’d been quizzed by a series of Federales, repeating who I was and what had happened. Losing more of my voice with each repetition. My brain spun, making it hard to think. Skepticism grew on their faces, and if my appearance hadn’t suggested I’d committed a murder, they probably would’ve hustled me out the front door.

  They’d taken my cell phone or I would’ve called Flint and begged him and the guys to swoop in and save me, because I’d become useless at saving myself.

  They took me to a trope interrogation room with a solitary high window covered with bars and a bare lightbulb suspended from the ceiling. A scarred table with equally scarred wooden chairs sat in the middle. And a big mirror hung on one wall, reflecting my snarled hair, my sallow face, my blood-spattered sundress.

  I held back hysterical tears. Cold had sunk into my bones, and I couldn’t stop trembling.

  Shadows lurked behind the mirrored glass. Not a simple looking glass, then, but a way to observe me. Or wait me out, hoping I’d turn into a weak, sniveling mass who’d spill whatever information they demanded. My quaking knees told me I wasn’t far from cracking.

  I collapsed in a chair and tucked up my legs, wrapping my arms around them. With my chin propped on my knees, I stared forward blankly. If only this nightmare would end.

  The door opened and a dark-suited man entered. He studied my face for a long moment before taking the chair opposite mine. His arms rested on the table with his hands clasped together. The relaxed expression on his face was negated by the sharp look in his eyes. He flicked his hand my way. “Please, explain what happened, Señorita.”

  Taking a deep breath, I repeated what I’d told the other cops. When I finished, he said nothing, just rose and left the room.

  Silence kept pace with the second hand on the clock.

  When he returned, he sat and studied me while I shifted in the chair. Finally, he said, “We went to the beach. There was no dead body. No blood. No imprint in the sand.”

  I sputtered. “A man was murdered. He’d died right in front of me. Really.” I tugged my dress away from my chest, flapping the red
-splotched material. “This isn’t my blood. Well, some of it is, from my arm.” I showed him the bandage. Three inches long, my wound probably needed stitches. They’d given me a first aid kit, and I’d applied a pressure dressing, the best I could do for now.

  “Dead bodies do not rise and walk away on their own.”

  Hold on. I pulled the notebook from my pocket and laid it on the table between us. “He told me to give this to…” I shook my head. The details were murky. “He died before he could tell me.”

  Lifting it, the cop flipped through the pages before tossing it back on the table with a smack. “I believe you spent too much time in the sun today, Señorita. You found someone sleeping in the sand. Not a wounded man, let alone one who was dying.” He chuckled, but his grim expression sent fear rippling through me. “As for the man chasing you with a knife, you imagined the entire incident. The cut and the blood on your dress came from a fall. This book proves nothing.”

  “That’s not true. It’s…” I snatched the notebook up and opened it. My vision swam.

  The pages were blank.

  Shoving back his chair, the cop stood. Taking the notebook from my limp fingers, he threw it into a trash bucket. He dropped my phone onto the table with a clatter. “Call Flint to come for you.”

  I blinked up at him. “How do you know my brother’s name?”

  “Your flight leaves early tomorrow morning,” he said pleasantly. His eyes bored into mine, his stare alone ensuring I’d understand what he said next. “Tell your brother you were robbed. You came to the station to report the incident.” He leaned forward with his palms braced on the scarred surface. “Forget what you saw on the beach.”

  “But—”

  “Speak of this matter, and we will find you.” He smirked. “But first, we will find Flint.”

  At my frantic nod, he left the room.

  Half sobbing, I called my brother and stuttered out the fake story of a robbery. After, I set the phone on the table. Unable to resist, I retrieved the notebook and put it back inside my pocket. The man had wanted me to have it, and I’d take it. After, I dropped my head onto my folded arms.