Diving with a Hammerhead

by Charlie Richards

  World of Aquatica: A single choice to do the right thing sends one ex-soldier’s life spiraling out of control.

  Solomon Lynch figured his decision to help his boss’s son escape from under his dominating thumb would cost him his job. Instead, it nearly costs him his life. He’s jumped and beaten in an alley, but Solomon has no delusions about who sent the men. He only lives because his ropes weren’t tied tight enough, and he manages to escape the cinderblock that was meant to send him swimming with the fishes.

  He doesn’t remember much after that, but rousing in an unfamiliar place is a mixed blessing. Doctor Anthony Keller is hawt! Solomon realizes instantly that the doc returns his attraction, but his instincts tell him that Anthony is hiding something. Besides that, how can he drag the handsome man into his screwed-up life, a life that could be cut short any minute by a vindictive rich guy?

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Diving with a Hammerhead

  Copyright © 2018 Charlie Richards

  ISBN: 978-1-4874-1886-1

  Cover art by Angela Waters

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

  Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

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  www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

  Diving with a Hammerhead

  Beneath Aquatica’s Waves: Book Three

  By

  Charlie Richards

  Dedication

  Life is like the ocean, it can be calm or still, and rough or rigid, but in the end it is always beautiful.

  ~Unknown

  Chapter One

  Solomon Lynch nodded as he took the pink slip. Well, the paper wasn’t actually pink, but it meant the same thing. The sheath of papers folded and tucked into an envelope meant he was out of a job.

  Damn.

  Still, Solomon couldn’t say he was sorry about it or even surprised. He’d been a security guard at Armando Whitney’s estate for just over six months. Having witnessed the man’s overbearing, controlling nature when focused on his business was one thing, but he’d seen that same domination in regards to Armando’s son, Braylon.

  When Solomon had seen that Braylon was tearing away from the estate like a bat out of hell, he’d let him go... against orders. He’d been instructed to secure the gate and had refused. Even knowing it was going to cost him his job, Solomon had opened the gate, instead.

  “Please clear out your locker and leave the estate as soon as possible.”

  Solomon rose from his seat before Stiles Gribble’s desk. The man was Armando’s head of security, bodyguard, and chauffeur all rolled into one. He wondered just how much Armando paid the guy to be at his beck and call.

  Not enough.

  In Solomon’s opinion, it could never be enough. After getting out of the military, no longer under the thumb of Uncle Sam, he’d vowed never again to have to always follow orders without question. Guess he should have thought about that before taking a job for a control freak.

  Hindsight. Just swell.

  With the envelope of papers in hand, Solomon exited Stiles’s office. He strode swiftly through the back halls to an employee lounge. A couple ex-coworkers were sitting at the table—Jim and Thanos. Both men smirked at him, and Jim’s expression held a definite hint of malice.

  It seemed his actions had made the rounds of the place. Most of the men were actually really loyal to Armando. It just went to show that money could buy a man... and Armando had plenty of cash to do just that.

  Solomon wasn’t one of them, nor had he ever tried to be.

  Ignoring the pair, Solomon crossed to his locker. He tucked the envelope under his arm so he could spin the dial on the combination lock. Just as his lock clicked, releasing, Solomon heard both men’s chairs scrape across the floor.

  As Solomon opened his locker, he peered over his shoulder, verifying where Jim and Thanos were headed. He spotted them standing and staring at him... right about the time he felt something spray across his face. Both men burst out laughing.

  Peering into his locker, then down at himself, Solomon took in the blue liquid coating everything. He ground his teeth as he realized it was a paint bomb. It had obviously been rigged to go off when he opened his locker.

  How juvenile. What are we? In high school?

  Without sparing either man a glance, Solomon grabbed his paint-splattered black-leather jacket. He ignored the mess on his shirt and pants, flopping it over his shoulder. After he’d picked up his small duffel bag, he tucked the damp envelope into a side pocket, then headed out of the space.

  Jim opened his mouth to say something, but Solomon leveled a cold glare at the man, shutting him up.

  Solomon rounded the edge of the estate house to the covered employee parking lot where his motorcycle waited. Opening the left saddlebag, he pulled out a plastic bag left over from a trip to the beach. He placed his blue-covered items into it, then tucked them inside and closed the saddlebag.

  Crossing to the opposite side, Solomon opened that bag. From inside he pulled a couple shop towels. He wiped down his face as best he could, then placed a clean towel over his hair, effectively protecting the inside of his half-helmet, which he placed on his head.

  Finally ready, Solomon drove home, looking forward to a scalding shower.

  Hours later, Solomon hung his freshly scrubbed leather jacket on a hanger. He grimaced, uncertain how it would look once dry. Still, he’d given it his best shot.

  Solomon figured he could have complained about the juvenile prank. Somehow, though, he doubted that much would have come of it. Armando’s people had it in for him... probably instigated by the rich man himself.

  Armando had been sitting in on the meeting when Stiles had asked for Solomon’s explanation of how the gate had opened. The look on the rich bastard’s face when Solomon had clearly stated, “I opened it so Braylon could leave,” would be forever etched into his mind.

  It had been a look of absolute rage mixed with hate as Armando coldly stated, “So you defied my orders on purpose.”

  Damn, I’m glad I no longer have to work for that asshole.

  Since Solomon no longer had to work the next day, he decided to get some food for a picnic on the beach. He might even go surfing. Making a promise to check the weather when he returned home from the store, Solomon grabbed his wallet, stuffed it into his back pocket, and headed toward the door.

  Solomon just remembered to grab the envelope off his counter. He’d already filled out his 401k transfer paperwork. For some reason, he would feel so much more comfortable once he’d completely broken away from any company Armando was associated with.

  To that end, Solomon dropped the envelope in his apartment building’s outgoing mail slot before heading outside and walking in the direction of the nea
rby corner market.

  Shoving his hands into the pockets of his zip-up hoodie, Solomon strode swiftly down the street. As he walked past an alleyway, he heard the unmistakable sound of flesh smacking flesh. He paused, peering into the gloom.

  Huh. When did it get so late?

  With the setting sun casting long shadows on the street, Solomon could only see the silhouettes. There were two people bent over a third figure, who appeared hunched on the ground. After a second of hesitation, Solomon started toward them.

  “Hey!” Solomon called. “What’s going on here? What’d that fella ever do to you?”

  The man closest to Solomon straightened and turned, but he still couldn’t make out his features since he had his jacket’s hood up. The second man rounded the guy on the ground, so he stood beside the first. Both men cracked their knuckles.

  “Just walk away, man,” the first guy said, a sneer in his tone. “Stickin’ around is only gonna get you some of this.” He waved his hand negligently toward the downed man.

  Solomon strode forward slowly, glancing between the men, sizing them up. He’d faced plenty of two against one fights in the military. As long as he kept his wits about him, he could send these two hooligans packing.

  He just couldn’t walk away. What if the downed man was injured?

  The second man snorted softly, shaking his head “God, you’re such a sap. You’ve made this so damn easy.”

  Solomon froze, recognizing the voice. “Jim?”

  The sound of feet hitting pavement sounded behind Solomon, causing him to spin. He just made out something swinging toward his head before agony slammed into his temple. As Solomon crashed to the ground, he was pretty sure it was Thanos who’d dropped from the fire escape, taking him by surprise.

  A second smash to his head sent him swimming into darkness.

  Icy water hit Solomon’s senses like a slap to the face, yanking him from the bliss of the darkness he’d been floating in. His head pulsed a throbbing tattoo, and his body ached. The fiery stinging sensation dancing across his arms, chest, and legs registered... right about the time Solomon realized he was underwater and sinking deeper.

  Solomon peered through the dark blue haze as he twisted this way and that. His arms were tied together, but they were in front of him. Bending at the waist, he grabbed the seam of his jeans between his calves and stared.

  Holy shit, I’m tied to a cinderblock.

  He almost gasped but managed to catch himself in time.

  His military training kicking in, Solomon felt a sense of calmness blanket his mind. He bent in half and slid his finger over the ropes around his feet. While they were a bit loose, no matter how he twisted his boots, he couldn’t slip them free.

  Solomon gulped, struggling to maintain his control. I can hold it. Deciding on another tactic, he began untying his boots. He had to slide his fingers under the ropes a little, scraping his fingers, but he managed it.

  By the time he had both boots unlaced, his stomach muscles screamed with holding the awkward pose. Solomon dismissed the pain as he yanked his feet out of his loosened boots.

  Freed of his boots and the weight of the cinderblock, Solomon kicked hard, swimming toward the surface. He had just enough presence of mind to pause before breaking the surface. His lungs burning, his head beginning to fuzz out, he did a three-sixty in the water, searching for the hull of a boat.

  Someone had driven him way out there, after all.

  Not seeing anything, Solomon broke the surface and sucked in a much-needed lungful of air. A wave hit his face, and he swallowed water. Hacking and choking, his eyes watered. The pains all over his body once again registered.

  That was when Solomon finally realized that he had cuts all over him, and he was bleeding into the water from multiple points like a slow-leaking tire.

  Mentally cursing a blue streak, Solomon searched for the closest land. All he saw were cliffs way off in the distance, but that was better than nothing... he hoped. His energy flagging from pain and blood loss, Solomon kept moving on adrenaline alone as he swam slowly toward the rocks.

  * * * *

  Anthony swam swiftly, his lean body cutting easily through the water. He relished the cool winter waves gliding across his smooth skin and the sandy bottom of the ocean floor caressing his underbelly. Silently hunting, he searched for something tasty to snack on.

  As a shifter, Anthony didn’t need to eat while in his great hammerhead shark form, but it sure made his animal happy. Plus, swimming and hunting several evenings a week kept him from having to fight his shark’s nature while doing a few hours’ shift in the sunken ship reef tank. The rest of Anthony’s time was spent working as the head doctor at World of Aquatica, a shifter owned and operated Marine Park.

  If Anthony could have smiled in shark form, he would have. The first hundred and fifty years of his life had been spent half in shark form and half traveling up and down the coasts as a sailor. After that, he’d been consumed by the changes of modern medicine. Ever since meeting the Roush brothers, he’d found stability.

  The shifting sand of a fleeing stingray caught Anthony’s attention. He swam toward it and lifted his broad, flat, hammer-like head, preparing to batter and stun the creature. Except, the change in position caused his senses to pick up something unexpected.

  Blood. Iron-rich, delicious-smelling, life-giving fluid.

  Anthony realized a wounded animal must be nearby. Forgetting the stingray, he changed direction and sped up. He searched the water for the source, his senses tingling in anticipation.

  Just as Anthony spotted a large form bobbing at the surface, he realized his shark wasn’t feeling interested in eating their query. In fact, when he saw a small tiger shark make a pass at the blood source, he felt the most unexpected feeling—protective aggression. Anthony went with it, cutting through the water like a hot knife through butter.

  Growing closer, Anthony realized it was a human bobbing along the wave-heavy surface. On top of that, the blood smelled... mmmm. It hit him like a lightning bolt.

  My mate is floating in the middle of the ocean late at night.

  What the hell?

  Anthony knew he wasn’t near enough to public water for someone to have gotten lost while swimming. He also couldn’t sense any vibrations that would indicate a nearby boat. That left Anthony wondering how the human had gotten so far out.

  The arrival of a second shark made Anthony realize it didn’t actually matter. He needed to save his mate. He could get his answers later.

  Swishing his tail violently, Anthony surged through the water. He slammed into the tiger shark, which was the larger of the offending pair. Then he cut back around and headed toward the smaller shark, a good-sized dogfish shark. Anthony hoped the creature hadn’t yet had the opportunity to scrape its poisonous fins across his human’s flesh.

  Anthony opened his jaws and clamped onto the right fin of the dogfish shark, biting deep. The creature thrashed in his grip, and he immediately let it go. In the next instant, the heavy flow of blood distracted the tiger shark, sending it after the dogfish.

  With the other sharks distracted, Anthony swam close to the human. The man appeared large, over six feet, and his thickly muscled body oozed his life-giving fluid from many cuts. Anthony thought they had the distinctive appearance of coming from a knife.

  What the hell?

  The waves seemed to lap at the edges of his tanned face, sometimes cresting over his mouth and nose. Another pass showed Anthony a spray of water erupting from the human’s mouth, proving that he still breathed. Relief filled him.

  Anthony dipped deeper in the water, remembering the dolphin shows. A shifter in human form would ride the dolphin as if it were a horse, while the shifter in animal form would do tricks. The pair would actually take turns in each position.

  Twisting around, Anthony carefully positioned himself between the human’s spread legs. He gently bumped up and forward until his dorsal fin nudged
his mate’s crotch. Carefully, he began swimming near the surface, suddenly grateful for his broad flat head, which allowed him to balance his human without too much trouble.

  Swimming as swiftly as he dared, Anthony began making his way toward the cliffs. He was halfway there when another tiger shark appeared to his left. This one, however, he recognized as River, a shifter who worked the tiger shark show and aquarium.

  River swam beside him for a few minutes, eyeing him curiously.

  Anthony continued to swim toward home. It wasn’t as if he could share that the human was his mate with the other shifter. River didn’t seem to need an explanation, though. He picked up speed and began streaking toward the tunnel that led to their community’s underground lake.

  By the time Anthony arrived at the opening, the tide had gone out. He felt a surge of relief, seeing as it hadn’t even occurred to him how he would have gotten the human through the tunnel if it had been flooded. Not only was River there, still in animal form, but so were a couple of others, including Pisces, a dolphin shifter. They took up a position on each side of him, helping him keep his human stable on his back in the churning waters of the tunnel.

  Reaching the massive underground chamber, Anthony headed straight for shore. He spotted William Roush standing thigh deep in the shallows, obviously waiting for him. The shifter was the younger of the brothers and known as the more relaxed, friendlier of the two. He was also loosely categorized as the marine shifter pod’s beta, the second-in-command.

  “Shift for me, Anthony,” William encouraged as he gripped the human’s shoulders and began hauling him toward the sandy beach. “And tell me where you found your injured friend.”

  Anthony swiftly obeyed, resuming his human form. As soon as he was able, he rose to his feet and waded after William. “I found him bobbing amidst the waves out beyond the breakwater,” he stated as the other men changed and followed. “I don’t know anything about him, but he’s my mate.”