Coming to Colorado (7 page)

The waitress came over and took Ryan’s order after taking the strangers. He didn’t hear what the guy ordered, but he was fairly certain the man was staying here to eat. Ryan had been toying with the idea of going back to his place, especially after running into the gun-toting, intense man outside, but this sexy man would be fun to flirt with.

The stranger glanced away quickly, but his gaze found Ryan’s again, this time lingering. They were going to play this cat and mouse game all evening long, and Ryan didn’t have time for it. This guy was his type, and he’d love having him in his bed. His whole body twitched as the man glanced to the exits one more time. The guy’s dark eyes and tanned skin set him apart from everyone else in the bar and left Ryan wanting. The dude had to know he was gorgeous.

Ryan decided not to waste time playing around and stood, grabbing his drink before moving closer to the guy, sitting one seat over on the corner so he wasn’t right beside him. Being beside the man wouldn’t allow him to stare openly and take in the beauty of his face. The stranger was even more attractive now that Ryan was close to him. When Ryan sat down, the guy flinched. Ryan did a double take, swearing that the guy was carrying. After seeing the stranger outside, warnings went up in his mind, but they were overridden by the lust this man inspired.

“Hey, you just drinking or are you staying and eating here?” Ryan knew the answer, but he asked anyway, needing something to open the conversation with. He inspected the stranger, watching as his lips turned down in a frown. The guy’s gaze shot to the door then back over to Ryan, his frown deepening.

“Who sent you?”

Ryan froze, a chill swept through him. He recognized the look the guy gave him and the tone of his voice. After Ibrahim had turned, he felt that way about everyone.
Who’d sent the guys to question him?
Who’d sent the men to watch him? Who’d sent the person who’d installed a camera in his room, watching his every move, trying to catch him doing something wrong?

“No one sent me.” Ryan stared at the guy, trying to determine if he should walk away. He didn’t need the trouble or the headache. Then the guy’s gaze flicked to the door, his face took on a haunted look, and Ryan’s curiosity won out. “My name is Ryan Pruitt. Why did you think someone sent me?”

The guy started to stand, and Ryan reached out, touching his arm. It was a mistake, one that he would remember for a long time. Not even a second passed before the stranger was behind him, the cool press of a muzzle against Ryan’s side. No one else in the bar paid them any attention, because to the casual observer it must have looked like nothing was wrong. The guy was that good.

“Who are you with?” the stranger asked again.

Ryan forced a calm he didn’t feel. “No one.”

“Bullshit, you’re military. I see it and smell it on you.”

“Marine, but I’m out now. I’m in the real world and don’t take orders from anyone, only myself.”

The guy chuckled, and the cold steel pressed harder against Ryan’s flesh. “You expect me to believe that?”

“No, but you can keep your weapon and I won’t say anything. Sit down before we attract any attention. This is a fairly safe neighborhood, well, unless you consider common thugs to be dangerous. The suits and other spooks stay away from here...usually.”

“Usually?” The tone of the man’s voice changed.

Ryan shook his head, shivering at the memory of the gun-toting man outside. “It’s nothing.”

The guy shot another glance to the door. “You live close by?”

“Around the block,” Ryan said. “What’s your name?”

The guy lifted a brow and shook his head. “Really?”

“Give me something I can call you. I can’t just call you Hey Man all night long.”

The dude smirked and lifted one brow. “All night? That’s rather ambitious.”

Ryan smiled, his eyes narrowing. He wanted this dark stranger with the fiery eyes and sexy beard longer than all night, which was troubling. It had been a long time since he’d wanted anyone for more than just a quick fuck. The virgin was an anomaly, and he’d only stayed until dawn because he wouldn’t be
that
jerk with a virgin.

“I think you and I could have fun, lots of fun, if we wanted.” Heat built between them, and Ryan could see the second the stranger agreed in his mind that coming home with him would be a good idea.

“You can call me D.”

“D, as in D-E-E or just D?”

“Let’s go with just D until I feel I can trust you.” D lifted his brow and angled his head toward the door. “Care to get our food to go and take off?”

“Sure, let me tell Barry, the cook, that we’re leaving. I’m going to stop by the bathroom. Then we can head out.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Chapter Eight

Duff’s text noise sounded, and he reached for his cell, but the phone rang before he could see who had texted him. Roger was on the line, and he had to answer.

“Hey, Roger, you two in Boston?”

“Yes, sir. We just landed. Tell us what you have.”

“It’s not much. We spent the last few hours looking, but he’s not walked into the police station or news station and declared what he was going to do.”

“Bastard, he really should keep our needs in mind.”

“Yeah,” Duff said, his voice flat. Roger had a way with joking through tough situations, and he appreciated it. Roger always kept him on his toes. “We know he was at a mall, that’s where they discovered the car. I’ll have Grant send you the address.”

“Sounds good.”

“Roger?”

“Yes, sir?”

“If you find him, don’t let him live.”

“Don’t worry, Duff, he won’t survive.”

Duff spent another five minutes on the phone with Roger, talking about their options as Roger and Mike made their way outside to the front of the flight support building where Duff had arranged to have a rental car waiting for them. The background noises quieted when they closed the doors on the car. Really, they didn’t have much to go on. If they had a big break, something that would give them a huge boost, it would be wonderful. But they’d found nothing other than the car at the mall, and that wasn’t much. Thousands of people went to the mall, and it would be easy to get lost in the twisting back corridors and shops full of people. Craig knew how to evade detection, and would easily slip out unseen in a location like that. The man must have wanted them to know he was going to Boston, otherwise, he would have covered his tracks better. Or maybe they’d just had some dumb luck. Once Roger and Mike arrived at the mall and viewed the security footage, they’d have a better idea of where Craig was and what he was doing.

Duff hung up and stared out the windows, looking to the mountain. This place was beautiful in the summer or winter. The bluff always inspired him and it was the place he looked to when he needed to think. It made Duff a little sad that the mountain still held the scars from Craig setting part of the forest on fire. The trees were starting to grow, showing promise that the future could be better, but he didn’t hold out much hope for their future if Craig survived.

The man had caused so many problems at Wild Bluff. Duff had made a mistake picking Craig. They’d changed how they brought men to the ranch and who they picked since he’d found Craig. It was much more difficult to become a member of the Wild Bluff team now, as it should be. Duff trusted these men. Without a doubt, he knew that the guys on the ranch now would never turn bad. He’d gotten lucky with Roger. The man had a good head on his shoulders and probably saved Grant when Craig came back to torture them. Maybe he should chuck it, give up his post and leave, find a place to sit in the sun and be done with this tough shit, but he couldn’t, not yet. It wouldn’t be possible with Craig out there, but once they had the Craig thing solved, he’d think about it again.

Duff pocketed his phone, and focused on the computer in front of him. Zander had returned from Colorado Springs with the helicopter and was at a computer next to Duff. He wished something amazing would pop out at them, but so far, anything they found on Craig seemed to melt away, disappearing into nothing. If they picked up a trail that pointed anywhere other than Boston, it disappeared.

After about an hour, Duff was totally disgusted. He pushed away from the table and paced to the kitchen, grabbing a cup of coffee. They weren’t any closer to finding Craig.

“Hey guys,” Zander said.

“Yeah, Zander?” Marshal stood and moved beside Zander, his hands resting on Zander’s shoulders. They exchanged a look that made Duff’s heart squeeze. Those two men were perfect for each other. Grant may be the man he’d thought would take over the operation if he left, but Marshal had a certain leadership quality that would bring them all together and inspire them to do great things. Maybe both Marshal and Grant could lead this group of extraordinary men.

“I think I found something.”

“What?” Duff asked.

Zander pointed at his computer, his gaze staying on the screen. “So, one of his less used aliases had a place in Boston for years.”

“Are you kidding me?” Grant said.

“No, but it was sold,” Zander answered.

“To who? Could it have been sold to one of his aliases? Like maybe he still owns it?” Grant asked.

“I don’t know. We need to look deeper. The property was sold to a woman, Betsy Chaplin.”

Grant shook his head, “Never heard of her.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s in Boston, he knows the area,” Marshal said.

“But what does he hope to accomplish there?” Duff asked. The more they got on Craig, the more twisted everything became. It had been so long since he’d walked out, but with him coming back almost two years ago and setting fire to the mountain, it seemed like just yesterday.

Duff went back to his computer, settling in for a long night. They needed to get rid of Craig so they could start taking jobs again. He feared that if they accepted an assignment, Craig would show up. They’d taken time off, relaxing and getting their minds right, but this could throw them for a loop, making it difficult to recover.
Damn that bastard, Craig
.

*~*~*

Davis watched Ryan walk to the end of the bar then disappear around the corner. He stood then sat back down. If Ryan’s story was true, staying at his place would give Davis some protection. No question, he knew he couldn’t trust the guy—hell, he couldn’t trust anyone—but hiding with a stranger would be better than having to look over his shoulder to see if he was being followed every second of every day until he could get out of Boston and find a place to lay low while the shit settled. The people looking for him would expect him to stay at a hotel. If he spent the night at a private residence of someone he didn’t know, they’d never anticipate that, and maybe he could find an escape.

He stood up again then sat back down, trying to make up his mind. This was either the dumbest thing he’d ever done or the best decision he’d ever make. What if this Ryan Pruitt dude was a plant? He didn’t have time to do any searching. Fuck, he was screwed no matter what he decided.

The movement on the street out front didn’t bother him, but when one guy stopped, acting like he was checking his phone, Davis panicked. He was trapped in the bar and would have to dash out the back to flee. Shit, he was hungry and making mistakes. Exhaustion was about to hit, and he needed to resolve the situation. When he’d taken this job, he’d thought it would be easy. He’d been lazy not planning better, but he hadn’t believed this mission was going to be that big of a deal.

Ryan stepped back into the room, his phone in hand. He pulled it up to his ear and took a seat at the other end of the bar. Davis immediately hyper-focused. The air crackled and his spine tingled. Everything slowed as he waited for the strike he knew was coming.

“Hey, there’s a guy outside,” Ryan said. It was obvious he was talking to Davis instead of anyone on his phone. “I saw him earlier. He has a Glock under his jacket. He’s acting weird, and I don’t trust him. Meet me at Community Boating in two hours. Go to the restroom and head out the back door. You’ll be safe. The guy isn’t paying enough attention to know if you run out the back.”

“Fuck.” Davis glanced to the door, then back to Ryan, trying to look like he wasn’t talking to Ryan.

“I swear, I’m not a part of what’s going on out there. Really, I have no clue what their game is but you’re jumpy as an ostrich in the middle of a pack of lions. I can at least get you out of here and off the streets for one night.” Ryan nodded and reached for a pen on the bar. The guy watching probably didn’t think he and Ryan were talking. It was doubtful that they had a surveillance team in place with ears on the room, but they would soon, at least he would if he were running this operation.

Davis ducked his head and pulled out his phone to glance at a map so he could find the place Ryan was talking about.

“Stop.” Ryan had raised his voice, the panic resonating through the bar. “Your phone. That’s how they are finding you.”

“Fuck. No way. I had it checked before I—not that long ago.”

“When?”

“Last week, before...well before this.”

“They’ve got it or cloned it. Don’t look up anything else.”

“How the hell am I going to find this place you want me to go?”

“Mass General exit off the red line then south, away from the hospital. It’s by the water. There are boats, kayaks. You have two hours to lose this guy.”

“Fuck, I’m starving.”

“The food is being boxed. Grab one of them on your way out. But first, ditch that phone, and leave your computer here. I’ll run a scan on it to see if it’s being traced.” Ryan acted like he was hanging up his phone, signaling Davis that their conversation was over.

The day had gone from bad to worse. It was shitty what had happened earlier, and now he wasn’t catching any breaks. There was no one he could trust and nowhere to turn. If someone had gotten hold of his phone, he was screwed because that would mean it was an inside job. If they had his computer bugged, then there was no question about someone he knew fucking him over.

“You can’t access my computer without a password, and I can’t give you that password.”