Page 128 of Stone Coast


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"Your memory is coming back.”

“Bits and pieces, but I have questions. You're the only one I trust," I said. It may have been too much.

"What about Tyson?"

"We don't see eye to eye on some things. Besides, he's out of the picture."

"I heard he was attacked last night on his boat. Were you with him?"

"Yes."

"Do you know who is responsible?”

"I haven't been able to ID the assailant. But I’m hoping you can help me with that.”

"Certainly. I'll do anything I can. Doesn't Tyson have intelligence contacts with Cobra Company?”

Ross was suspicious. I didn't blame him. He knew damn well who the assailant was, and he knew I’d be able to figure it out, if I hadn’t already.

"His contact has been out of touch,” I said.

"That's odd.”

"In the last few days, multiple people have tried to kill me. I need to know who my friends are.”

“Do you think I’m your friend?”

“If you’re not my friend, I’m in big trouble.”

“You can say that again.”

“I’ll be at the Silent Catch for the next half hour,” I said. “Then I’m going dark. For good.”

If I knew Ross, I’d be too tempting of a target to pass up. And this time, he’d want to see me dead with his own eyes.

67

Ablack SUV with tinted windows pulled into the parking lot of the marina. Gavin, Ross’s right-hand man, parked the vehicle, then hopped out and pulled open the rear door. He was a clean cut guy with curly brown hair, blue eyes, and a boyish face. He was the ass-clown that hired Raymond at the behest of Ross. Had to be.

With the rifle against my shoulder, I had the SUV lined up in my sights. I was just waiting for Ross to step out, ready to put a bullet into the scumbag.

My pulse throbbed my ears. I steadied myself and drew a deep breath.

A million thoughts ran through my head. The jumble of memories becoming more and more coherent. Was I really going to kill this man in cold blood?

Damn right I was.

A second shot to take out Gavin would decapitate leadership. The group would be in disarray. And I’d spend the rest of my life on the run, looking over my shoulder. I tried to justify it in my mind—I’d spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder either way. I knew things about Ross and his operation that he didn’t want public.

Things turned upside down when Olivia emerged from the SUV. Ross was close behind her, a discrete pistol in her ribcage.

Olivia handled it well, no doubt with plenty of sassy responses.

Ross gripped onto her arm, still in the SUV.

I didn’t have a clear shot.

My phone buzzed with a call.