Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) (17 page)

Harrison held his breath as Mickey stared at the man, willing his brother to keep as cool as ice cream and not cause any problems. Based on what Santiago had said, it looked as if he and Mickey were going to be separated. But if Mickey behaved, maybe they wouldn’t remain in different rooms. If there was any chance of fleeing, he couldn’t leave his brother behind. Mickey might be a loose cannon, he might make bad choices, but deep down, he was a good guy.
 

He was his only family.
 

“This must be your brother,” the man said and offered his hand to Harrison.

“Harrison,” he introduced himself and shook his large hand. The guy wasn’t as tall and bulky as Vlad, but stood a good four inches taller than Harrison’s six foot frame.
 

“Ricco Mancini. Please call me Ric.”

Shit. He didn’t want to know the man’s name, or Honey Badger’s, and looked at each introduction as another nail in his coffin.
 

Ric checked his watch. “Almost show time. We have a long day ahead of us, so let’s get everyone settled,” he said with an easy smile and led them into a huge room. “Come on in and make yourself at home. Coffee?”

“No thanks,” Harrison said, glancing around the open concept floor plan, and imagining it in some rich guy’s giant house. Not an old, dilapidated warehouse. He was no home expert, but knew the hardwood floors, the kitchen cabinetry, granite countertops, along with the kitchen table and leather furnishings, likely cost a small fortune.
 

“How about you, Mickey? Need anything?” Ric asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. When Mickey didn’t say anything, Ric looked to Santiago.
 

As if the Columbian had read Ric’s mind, Santiago turned to Vlad and jerked his head toward an open door off of the great room. Vlad nodded and took Mickey by the elbow, leading him out of the room and closing the door behind them.
 

With Vlad and Mickey no longer in the room, claustrophobia returned with a fury. He didn’t trust Santiago. Even Vlad had made it clear the Columbian’s loyalties lay with Honey Badger. He didn’t know anything about the other man, but sensed that behind the business suit, the bright white friendly smile and perfectly combed dark hair, Ric was a snake poised to strike at any given moment.
 

“Where’s the boss?” Santiago asked and helped himself to coffee.
 

“Right here,” a deep voice called from behind him.

Panic cinched his stomach and made his limbs weak.

Show no fear… Honey Badger loves seeing fear in man’s eyes.
 

Harrison dug deep. Brought back memories of when he’d been in prison. Many inmates had tried to intimidate him, had tried to put the fear of God into him. When he’d first been incarcerated, he realized he had two choices. Man up and make sure no one fucked with him, or end up being another man’s bitch. After he’d given a few of his fellow inmates broken noses, no one had bothered him during the rest of his prison sentence.
 

Unfortunately, right now he was Honey Badger’s bitch. Knowing he couldn’t go toe to toe with Santiago or Ric, he’d play the part until he found a way to escape. Until then, he’d make sure he took Vlad’s advice. Show no fear and stay cool like ice cream.
 

He turned to meet Honey Badger, then froze.
 

Fuck. He was a dead man.
 

“Do you know who I am?” Honey Badger asked as he straightened his tie.
 

Harrison nodded, staring at the man who had graced the covers of numerous financial and political magazines. At twenty-three he’d taken over the family business. By the age of twenty-eight, he’d turned his business into a household name, earning him billions and, at the time, making him one of the youngest and wealthiest men in the United States.
 

“Of course you do,” Honey Badger said and looked around the room. “Where’s Vlad?”

“With the brother,” Santiago answered and motioned toward the closed door.
 

Honey Badger clapped his hands together. “Good. Then let’s get started. Ric, where’s the laptop?”

“In your office.”

“This might be an all-day process.” Honey Badger grimaced. “I’d rather work out here where it’s more comfortable.”

“Of course,” Ric said and left the room. Moments later, he returned with the laptop Harrison had been using over the past week.
 

“Smart brother, what’s your name?” Honey Badger asked him.

“Harrison.”

“Well, Harrison, Santiago assured me that you’ll be able to send signals from the laptop to the devices, and that the result would be almost instantaneous, correct?”

“Yes. I can send the signal to all of them at the same time, or—”

“I want them done separately. Starting with the device in San Francisco.”

“That’s easy enough to do. Actually, you don’t even need me here.” He mustered a grin. “Once I show you the program, all you have to do is—”
 

Honey Badger pierced Harrison with his dark blue eyes. “You’ll do it.”

Scared, his conscience and morals tearing him in two, Harrison rubbed his sweaty palms along his jeans. He didn’t want to send the signal. He didn’t want to be the triggerman responsible for killing innocent people. “Sir, I’d be happy to show—”

“Vlad,” the Billionaire Badger shouted, but kept his cold gaze on Harrison.

The Russian opened the door. “Sir?”

“Bring me the dumb brother.”

Vlad quickly entered the room with Mickey. Honey Badger gave Mickey a quick once over, then rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. He turned to Santiago. “Get a garbage bag and make him stand on it.”

Santiago quickly did as he was told, forcing Mickey to stand on the bag. Harrison’s heart raced with unease. He darted his gaze from the garbage bag, to his brother, then back to Honey Badger, every worst case scenario clicking into place. “I’ll do it,” Harrison blurted. He didn’t want to be Honey Badger’s triggerman, but he couldn’t let his brother die.

As if he hadn’t heard Harrison, Honey Badger turned to Ric. “Give me your gun.” After Ric handed the weapon over to him, Honey Badger smiled and pointed it at Mickey.
 

Harrison made to move, but Santiago gripped his shoulder. “I said I’ll do it,” he shouted, staring at his brother. Mickey’s pale face had grown freakishly white. His body shook and swayed as he gaped, wide eyed, at the gun directed at him.
 

“I never doubted for a second you wouldn’t. But here’s a little incentive anyway,” Honey Badger said and squeezed the trigger.

Harrison’s knees gave out when his brother fell to the floor. Santiago kept him upright, giving him a hard shake. Harrison’s throat tightened, tears threatened to fall, but he quickly tamped down the urge. Mickey lay on the garbage bag, howling in pain and clutching his leg. Relieved his brother had been shot in the leg rather than the head, Harrison let the fear go and replaced it with anger. He was on to Honey Badger. The man planned to kill a lot of people, he planned to make Harrison be the one to do it and, in the process, would use Mickey for motivation.
 

They were so fucked.

“Get him out of here and shut him up,” Honey Badger ordered Vlad.
 

The Russian’s jaw ticked as he hauled Mickey to his feet and helped him from the room. Once they were out of sight, the twisted billionaire handed the gun back to Ric, then took a seat in a chair reminding Harrison of a king’s throne. “Where were we?” he asked, glancing at his watch. “Ah, yes. You were going to get on the laptop and signal the device planted in San Francisco. Correct?”

Other than bugs, Harrison had never killed anything. Right now, he had murder on his mind and could easily picture doing the world a favor and putting a bullet in Honey Badger’s head. He masked his hatred and anger. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He sent him a mocking grin. “I want the device activated at seven, which is in less than ten minutes. I suggest you get to work. I abhor mistakes and won’t tolerate a missed deadline.”

Harrison sat on the sofa in front of the coffee table and opened the laptop. “I understand.”

“Do you? Have you ever played Hangman?”

“Yes,” he said, booting up the laptop.

“Then consider your brother the man in the noose. For every mistake you make, he’ll either be shot or cut. He’s already taken a bullet to his leg, next time you make a mistake, it’ll be his other leg. Then his arm, then the other… You’re a smart man, Harrison. I think you understand where I’m going.”

Loud and clear
. He opened up the system files and found the code he’d written for the device Mickey and Santiago had planted in San Francisco. “The program is up and running. Just say the word and I’ll send the signal to the device.”
 

His stomach twisting with fear and hatred, Harrison waited while Honey Badger kept focused on his wristwatch. Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Despite the room’s comfortable temperature, sweat beaded along his upper lip and brow.
 

Still focused on his watch, Honey Badger raised a finger. “Now.”

Harrison’s chest tightened as his finger hovered over the key that would activate the device.
Please forgive me
, he silently prayed to God and the Universe, then he pressed ENTER. He slid his eyes closed, not sure what exactly he’d just activated, but knowing in his gut it wasn’t good.
 

“It’s done?” Honey Badger asked.

Harrison opened his eyes, kept his gaze on the laptop and nodded.

“Good. Santiago, turn on the TV,” Honey Badger said with a smile and rubbed his hands together. “I’m in the mood to be entertained.”

*

 
Holding Naomi tight, Jake rolled onto his back and pulled her against his chest. Making love to Naomi, being with her this weekend, had been surreal. He’d spent so many years thinking about what it would be like to hold her again. Now that he had, now that she was in his arms, he didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to stay locked in her bedroom, in her bed, and forget about everything else. Unfortunately, he had to leave. He might still be in love with her, he might still harbor fantasies about the kind of future they could have, but reality had a funny way of creeping in and stealing those fantasies. If Rachel was right, Naomi was still lying to him.
 

As he stroked Naomi’s bare back and his heart rate and breathing returned to normal, he pushed those thoughts aside. He’d be heading for Jacksonville in an hour and didn’t want to leave on a bad note. Regardless of whether Naomi had lied to him or not, she was a good person. If she’d lied, she had good reason. At least that’s what he’d been telling himself since ending his conversation with Rachel. Otherwise, what kind of man did that make him if he’d knowingly stayed and made love to a woman who was lying to him?

Fucking Pathetic
.

She ran her hand along his chest, her warm breath caressing him as she sighed. “I wish you could stay another day,” she said and kissed his shoulder.

“Me too.” He moved them so they were face to face. “I meant what I said. I…” Damn, she was beautiful. He could look into those eyes of hers forever. He’d never seen judgment in them, only love and pride. She was the one person who knew him best, even over his family. There were things he’d told her that he had never told another soul. No matter how dark those secrets had been, she’d accepted him. Hell, she got him. Understood him like no one else. “I’ll call you tonight,” he said.
 

“And the next day?” she asked, the uncertainty in her voice bringing out the primal side of him. How could she show any insecurities after what they’d just done in her bed?

“And the day after that,” he assured her. “Before I leave, let’s look at our calendars. I think I need to come back for Woodbine’s Crawfish Festival.”

She grinned. “It’s a good time.”

“It’s always good with you.”

Her grin turned into a full smile. “I have my moments.”

“And if I didn’t have to catch a plane, we’d have more moments,” he said, and grazed his hand along her breasts.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” She gave his chest hair a gentle yank. “Go get ready. I’ll make some breakfast.”

On cue, his stomach grumbled. They both laughed, and he rolled on top of her for one more kiss. Just when that kiss started to turn carnal, she tore her mouth away.
 

“Seriously, if you don’t stop you’ll miss your flight.” After giving him another quick kiss, she climbed out of bed. “How do you want your eggs?”

He stared at her breasts, wondering how she could go into chef mode when his mind was still on sex. Again. “Whatever’s easiest.”

“Scrambled it is,” she said and, to his disappointment, put on a tank top and shorts.
 

After she left the room, he climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. Once finished, he repacked his suitcase, then stowed it into the back of the rental. As he made his way into the house and toward the kitchen, the rancid odor of burnt eggs hit him hard and fast. He entered the kitchen, grabbed the pan filled with dark brown, overcooked eggs and removed it from the burner. The toaster had already popped up the charred toast Naomi had made. The butter dish sat on the counter, along with plates, silverware and glasses, as if she’d started breakfast and had to make a sudden break for it.