Hailey's Truth (26 page)

Austin sprinted, ducking down the first alley he saw. He hurtled a metal trashcan, then hooked a left when he came to the next building’s end. Brass Knuckles no longer followed, but Austin kept his pace steady.

He ran three more blocks, stopping to catch his breath in the shadows of an abandoned business. In his haste to get away, he’d run toward the seedy bars he’d left behind not that long ago.

He needed to breathe, needed to think. Austin wiped his brow with his filthy forearm, feeling a singe of pain radiate across his bicep. Frowning, he looked down at his shirt, noticing the hole. “What the hell?” Lifting his sleeve, he swore again. Blood oozed from the gash in his skin. He’d been grazed. At some point, they’d gotten a shot off on him. Austin slid his sleeve back in place, trying to keep his wound as clean as possible until he got himself out of this mess.

Who the hell were these guys? They had to be locals someone paid. He had a feeling he knew who was sending a message, but why?

He would have to figure that out later, after he got back to the resort. If he ran straight, he would eventually come to a better section of the village. The island wasn’t that big. The glow of the busy oceanfront wasn’t far away. He just had to get there.

Feeling steadier and more prepared, Austin turned the corner and took a solid block of brass in the gut. The shock of pain stole his breath. Coughing, Austin fought for air, as the fist came back, catching the edge of his jaw. He saw stars as he staggered to the side of the building, fighting not to pass out.

“Not so tough now, homie. You messed up my boys. We came here to remind you to mind your own business, but now I’m gonna kill you.” Brass Knuckles picked up a filthy two-by-four, ran forward, swinging wildly.

Austin straightened before the board connected with the side of his skull. He took the sharp impact in the shoulder. Brass Knuckles pulled back, came at him again, aiming for his head for the second time. Austin grabbed the thick piece of wood and kicked forward, planting his foot in the man’s gut.

“Maybe I’ll kill you first, fucker.” Austin yanked the plank away and smashed it over Brass Knuckles back. The man collapsed to the ground, unconscious. “But you’re not worth it.”

Austin rolled his stiff shoulder as he struggled to ignore the stabbing pain radiating through his jaw. He kept his back to the wall, listening, making certain there weren’t others. The bawdy laughter of a hooker filled the quiet as she left the bar with her latest john.

Bracing for another blow, Austin stepped from the shadows of the building, leaving Brass Knuckles where he fell. As Austin crossed the street, he spotted a cop car cruising close by. He held his breath and casually ducked his head, concealing his pistol by pulling his button-down together.

Two officers manned the vehicle, one driving, the other talking on a cell phone. Austin picked up his pace when the officer on the phone did a double take and the car slowed. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing break lights glow bright in the dark as the car came to a stop.

Shit.

The officer on the passenger’s side stepped from the vehicle. “Stop,” he yelled in Spanish.

Austin kept walking, inching closer to the next alley. The cop hollered again. Austin turned the corner and ran for his life. He had little doubt that the cops chasing him were on the Zulas’ payroll. If they caught him, he wouldn’t be alive in the morning.

He took the next right, listening as the patrol car accelerated. When the vehicle kept moving down the street, Austin doubled back the way he came. Sirens from another vehicle wailed in the distance, heading in his direction. Damn, this wasn’t good. If the police were smart, they would cordon off the next three blocks and have him surrounded within minutes.

With few options, Austin ran further away from where he wanted to go. He turned the corner, all but colliding with the taxi he’d left not even an hour before. Austin raised his arms, waving for the man to stop, more than happy to see the toothless cabbie behind the wheel. The driver slammed on his breaks, and Austin ducked into the backseat. “Let’s go.”

A cop car rushed by.

Austin ducked, then sat back, closing his eyes as he rested his head on the seat, fisting his hands together to stop them from shaking. “Take me to the water.”

The driver looked back at Austin with uneasy eyes.

Austin looked at his own arm, at the blood trailing from the wound on his bicep. He met the cabbie’s gaze in the mirror, took his gun from his holster, not intending to fire, but to frighten the man into helping him. “Take me to the water,” he said with more force. He pulled two hundred-dollar bills free. The cabbie yanked the cash from Austin’s hand, looked straight ahead, and drove away. Minutes later, the driver stopped at an ocean lookout.

“Wait for me.” Austin stepped from the cab, holding his pistol by the muzzle, using his shirt to wipe the weapon free of his fingerprints. He threw the gun far into the distance, deep into the water. He got back in the car and settled himself. “Back to the resort.”

The cab pulled around the bright circular drive of the Grand Spa. Austin didn’t want to be seen getting out. If worse came to worst, he planned to deny every event that happened over the last hour. “Not here. Further down. In the dark.”

The cabbie met his gaze in the mirror. Austin raised his brow and the man drove forward. As the cab rolled to a stop, Austin pulled another hundred from his wallet. If the man hadn’t come back when he said he would, Austin would be dead. “Thank you.”

Austin handed off the bill and stepped from the vehicle when he was sure the coast was clear.

Chapter 17

A
USTIN HURRIED DOWN THE PATH to the cabanas, staying hidden in the shadows. The lights blazed bright in Hailey’s suite, and he relaxed a bit. She was in her room—safe, waiting for him.

He wanted to storm in and hold her close, but he couldn’t. He smelled like shit, had blood on his clothes, and a wound on his arm. He didn’t want to scare her. More, he didn’t want to explain.

With little choice, Austin made his way to his own room for a quick shower and a phone call. He and Ethan had big problems and less than two days to solve them.

Austin reached for his keys, still revved from his night from hell. Surely Donte knew by now his “warning” had been a waste of time. Austin had no doubt Donte issued the message. He couldn’t put his finger on what he’d done to warrant the attention of the Zula’s leader, but he was going to find out.

Austin unlocked his door, reached for his gun, swore. He’d hated tossing his Glock. Unarmed and on edge, he turned the knob and kicked the door open. He waited, using the exterior wall as protection, unsure if someone waited for him here as well. Pivoting, he went inside; there was no one. Austin shut the door, locked it, and did a thorough sweep of the rest of the suite until he was certain he was alone.

He wandered back to the bathroom, flipped on the light, peeled off his filthy clothes, threw them in the small trashcan. The rotten stench was putrid enough to clear the room. He closed the bag and tied it off, unworried about the likely nosey staff. The smell left little desire for curiosity.

Austin brought the shower to life. While the water warmed, he examined the cut across his upper bicep. A stitch or two probably wouldn’t hurt, but that wasn’t an option. Doctors would recognize a bullet wound, and he wasn’t about to answer any questions. They would be obligated to call the cops, and in the end, he would be turned over to the Zulas anyway.

He studied the deep bruise blooming on his left shoulder, the tender purple welts in the center of his stomach from the blow of brass knuckles. He wiggled his jaw, wincing at the sharp ache. Son of a bitch, that pissed him off.

Bending his arm, he scrutinized his bicep again. As he flexed, blood dribbled down the mound of muscle. Hopefully, if he cleaned the shit out of it, it wouldn’t get infected. The last thing he wanted was an infection in fucking Mexico.

Austin stepped into the spray, turned the heat up with a twist of the nozzle. He held his wound in the water, hissing out a breath from the sharp sting. He eyed the bar of soap wearily before he picked up the small cake and rubbed it over the gash. “Goddamn. Son of a
bitch,
that hurts!”

Certain he’d cleaned his injury as well as he could manage, Austin scrubbed the rest of himself quickly, then dumped a glob of shampoo in his hair, wondering if he would ever get the smell of rotting garbage off his skin.

After a second wash and rinse, Austin shut off the water and toweled himself dry. He hustled to the bedroom, pulling fresh clothes from the drawer, eager to get his call in to Ethan and get back to Hailey. He’d
missed
her.

At some point along the way, the idea of cuddling up with Hailey, of wrapping himself around her and getting lost in what they could bring each other, had become more important, or at least equally as important as his job.

In less than a week, Hailey had changed everything. The lines of what he thought he wanted had become skewed. She had somehow gone from casual friend to
the
woman. How the hell did that happen?

Austin pulled on a gray t-shirt and black mesh shorts, then picked up his phone and dialed Ethan’s number.

“Cooke.”

“If you didn’t want me on your payroll, why didn’t you just say so?”

“It went that well, huh?”

“Oh, even better.”

“What did the landlord say?”

“Not much. He never showed up, but I did get shot at and grazed—“

“
What
?”

“I’m not finished…had to beat the shit out of several assholes, and that was before I ran from the cops. Oh, and let’s not forget the dead body. You don’t pay me enough, man.”

“What the fuck happened?”

“I walked into a trap. The corpse was just a bonus.” Austin rubbed his hand against his jaw, swearing when his fingers connected with the tender welt. “Either the landlord has his hand in organized crime or someone else entirely called the Site Director to set up a ‘meeting’ with me. They’d planned to mess me up, and I can’t figure out why. One guy said they were warning me off, that I needed to mind my own business. I didn’t get the chance to ask him to explain.”

“What’s your initial impression?”

“I haven’t got a clue. Other than asking a few questions about the kidnappings, I’ve been occupied with my vacation.”
And Hailey
—he kept that thought to himself. “My ‘meeting’ was arranged before, so I don’t think that’s the connection.”

“Tell me about the body.”

Austin sighed as he flashed back to his gruesome find. “I don’t think discovering a decomposing corpse was part of the game plan. Some poor sucker’s missing a large majority of his head. I think he was homeless. I don’t know if there’s a Zulas connection or not. I’m not calling it in. I’ll let you handle that from the States. The cops are bought. As far as I’m concerned, I never left my cabana this evening.”

“Do we need to get you and Hailey out of there?”

“No, I think my little adventure was exactly what my attackers said it was—a warning. And besides, where the hell would we go? Even if I took Hailey to the safe house they would find us eventually if they set their mind to it. They’re too well-connected. There’s only one way out of this, Ethan. You and I both know it.”

“Yeah.” Ethan’s sharp exhale carried over the line. “So what do you want to do?”

“Sit tight. They won’t be back again—at least not this group. They fucked up, embarrassed the organization. I would’ve killed them if I had to, but I have little doubt they’ll be taken care of by whoever sent them.” Austin stretched, attempting to loosen the tension coiling his muscles tight. Seconds later, a warm trail of crimson tracked down his arm. He eyed his wound, then walked to the bathroom, grabbed a length of toilet paper. He pressed the wad to his injury.

“If things heat up, say the word. We’ll pull you both. Hunter, Jackson, and I will be on our way.”

“Let’s see what happens. I don’t want to leave unless we run out of options.” He walked to the window, stared at Hailey’s room. This project meant so much to her, both personally and academically. She needed these free credits. “We have other problems. Our accommodations for Project Mexico are a joke.”

“Were you expecting the Hilton?”

“No, but I was expecting more than a heap of rubble. A door that actually locks would be a nice start.”

“The Site Director assured me we were all set. The Dean signed off on it.”

“It’ll be hard to provide protection for a dozen people in a place like that. The university either needs to release more funds for another agent or find us something else.”

“What a goddamn mess,” Ethan grumbled. “We don’t have time to dick with this. Let me call the Dean. I’m threatening to pull you and Jackson. That should get a few results.”

“Keep me informed. Oh, and I’m short a weapon. I had to toss mine—didn’t have time to grab the casing after I fired.”

“Can you hold off until Jackson arrives?”

“I’d like to think so.

“Watch your back.”

“I’m planning to.” The line went dead. Austin shoved his phone in his pocket, opened the door, peering outside, wary of another trap. When he figured the coast was clear, he locked up and jogged over to Hailey’s cabana. He knocked on her door. “Hailey, it’s me.”

He waited.

Austin knocked louder, assuming she’d finally gotten around to enjoying the huge bathtub. A slow smile spread across his face; perhaps he would join her. “Hailey, come on.”

Still nothing.

His smile faded as he pounded against the door again. Unease roiled his belly. “Hailey, open up.” He glanced over his shoulder, toward the docks, down the beach. Had they gotten to her? What if his ”meeting” had been a diversion?

His heart pounding, he backed up, ready to bust down the door, stopping just before his shoulder met the wood. He needed to think, not overreact. Hailey had probably gotten sick of waiting. She was probably up enjoying the hotel’s nightlife.

Even as Austin sprinted back to his cabana for the spare key, he knew he wouldn’t find her among the other guests. She said she would stay in her room. She said she would wait for him there. God, if something had happened to her… A sheen of cold sweat slicked his body, his stomach sinking further as he thought of the things they could’ve done to her—or might be doing now. The Zulas were known for their brutal, if not barbaric retaliatory tactics.

Austin shook his head, unable to stand it. Hailey was fine; she had to be.

He hurried back to Hailey’s cabana, fumbling with the lock, his fingers unsteady. The fear rushing through his system, devouring him whole, was a new sensation. He’d never cared for anyone the way he was coming to realize he cared for Hailey.

Finally, the key gave and he threw the door open. “Hailey!” He checked the bathroom, the closet. “Hailey!” She wasn’t here, but he already knew that.