by Ella Miles
“There is nothing to forgive,” I say.
She leans on her elbow and sits up. “What do you mean? He fucking shot you! He needs to crawl on his knees and beg for my forgiveness and hope I don’t shoot him for what he did to you.”
I smile, loving how far she would go for me. She just needs someone to blame for the fear she felt in the moments when she didn’t know if the plan had worked or not.
“No, you have no reason to be angry with Zeke, and you know that. Zeke knew we were all wearing the bulletproof armor. He knew they would spurt fake blood, so our enemies thought the bullets were hitting us and not our protective gear.
“He knew that by shooting me himself that I was most likely helping him complete Julian’s task. He knew that pushing me into the ocean was more about saving me than killing me. He knew. He knew that I would survive. He knew.
“He did it to protect me, to protect you, and get you the fuck off the boat and after me. He did it to protect Siren. What Zeke did doesn’t need to be forgiven. What he did needs to be thanked. The only reason we are all here is because Zeke saved us.”
Kai narrows her eyes, her lips jut out a little as she pouts adorably. She kisses me sweetly on the cheek.
“You’re a good friend,” she says before trying to pull away.
I yank her back. “And you’re a better one. Don’t hold this against Zeke. Not after everything you two have been through. Your friendship shouldn’t change because of this.”
She sighs but kisses me again before she tries to climb out of bed, again.
“Why do you keep trying to climb out of my bed, Stingray?”
“Because we need to go get to the box I hid before anyone else finds it.”
I shake my head.
She folds her arms over her chest.
Both of us in a standoff position, ready to fight.
“We need to sleep. We can get the box in the morning.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Julian could have already reached the box by now.”
“Where did you hide it?”
She closes her mouth tighter like that will make it harder for her to spill the truth.
I can’t help it. I laugh a little.
“We need to go, right now.”
“No, we don’t. We need to rest. We need all our strength to fight off Julian and his men. We’ve lost too many times already. I’m tired of losing.”
She gnaws on her bottom lip, and I can see the worry lines forming around her eyes again. There is something she isn’t telling me.
“Spill,” I command.
She takes a deep breath. And I prepare for her to say something stupid.
“I hid the box in Alaska.”
Fuck.
I jump out of bed so fast. In record time, we have both rinsed off, dressed, and are headed upstairs to tell the captain our new coordinates.
I love my wife. I know why she hid the box there. It’s safest there. I just hope to God that Nora and Beckett didn’t choose it as a place to hide our kids.
We are in this together, though. Together, we are going to stop this bastard, destroy the box, and keep our family safe.
5
Zeke
I hear Julian’s helicopter turning around and know I have limited time to get to Siren before he kills me.
I’m a sitting duck here in the ocean. There are no boats around. All the yachts that were here before have left, including the one Siren was on.
I don’t know how well Julian can fly a helicopter, but my time is limited.
I start swimming in the direction I saw Siren’s yacht go. I don’t have a plan. There is nothing I can do but swim and hope it’s enough.
The ocean has not always been my friend. Ultimately, it has never taken my life, and the ocean did bring me Siren. The ocean may be an obstacle, but as much as it has threatened my life, it has blessed it just as much.
I don’t know what the ocean will choose this time. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get to Siren or if the ocean will finally take me.
As the buzz of the helicopter gets closer, I have a sinking feeling that the ocean is not going to be my friend. There is no one to save me. No one knows I’m here and is going to come back for me.
Kai has long ago found Enzo. And Siren is gone.
The helicopter gets closer. All I know is that I won’t follow Julian’s orders. I won’t go back. I have to be free. It’s the only way I have a chance at saving Siren from Langston.
As the helicopter approaches, I make a decision.
Ocean, now is the time to save me.
I take a deep breath.
Then I dive under.
I kick as far down as I can get my body to sink.
I stare up at the sky and watch the helicopter buzz around. I won’t be able to survive down here long. I’ll run out of oxygen soon, and then I’ll have to surface. When I do, Julian will spot me.
As my oxygen evaporates, I scramble, looking for something, anything that can save me. A boat to come by. A floating piece of driftwood to hide under—something.
Instead, my foot tangles in a damn plastic bag. Fucking people acting like the world is their garbage can and not throwing away their recycling properly. I untangle my foot from the plastic and am about to kick for the surface when I spot something in the bag.
I realize the bag is a McDonald’s takeout bag, and inside is a cup and a straw.
A straw!
I have no idea if it will work, but I’m willing to try anything to get Siren back safely. I was stupid to take Julian’s deal. I should have known he would never honor it. He would send Langston to watch over Siren and somehow persuade him to eventually kill her.
I grab the straw and put it between my lips as I head for the surface. I’m careful to keep my body under the water, hoping that even though I’m at the surface, Julian can’t see me. The straw sticks out above the waves, and I take a cautious breath.
It works.
I can breathe.
Albeit, in short, painful breaths—breaths that don’t fully satisfy my lungs. Breaths half-filled with salt water as the waves bump into my straw. But breaths that keep me alive and hidden from view. Breaths that get me one step closer to helping Siren.
So I’ll hover here, at the surface of the water, and wait until Julian has to head for shore to land. Then I’ll surface. Then I’ll swim all night, and the next night and the night after that, until I find land or a boat. I’ll find Siren, and I’ll kill everyone who threatens her life, even my ex-best friend, Langston.
Julian hovers for twenty minutes until he finally heads toward shore to land.
I break the surface, gasping and coughing hard, expelling the water that slowly entered my lungs with each breath. It takes a solid minute of coughing until I can breathe semi-normally again.
The ocean spared me.
But I still have a long way to go to get Siren back.
I start swimming, not thinking about how exhausted and tired I am already, not thinking about it being smarter to conserve energy and float here until a boat comes.
I swim like I’m Michael Phelps in an Olympic race.
I swim as hard and as fast as my arms and legs can move. I’m a big guy, but not in the way Phelps is. My wingspan is big, but more in a giant grizzly bear sort of way. My legs are more like tree trunks than flippers. But right now, if I were racing Phelps, I’d put money on me swimming faster. Phelps never had to chase after the woman he loved to keep her safe before.
I swim all night, and when the sun rises, I have hope when I see a boat in the distance headed straight toward me.
It could be Julian’s, but I don’t have a choice but to get on it. So when the boat approaches and I wave it down, I climb up hesitantly. I don’t have a gun on me. Physically, I’m in no shape to fight, but tell that to my heart.
When I hit the deck, I know the men are dangerous. They don’t have their guns pointed at me, but I see the outlines of them beneath their clothes.
<
br /> “You okay, man?” one man says.
“Yea, I could use a towel, though,” I say.
The man nods and turns like he’s going to go get me a towel. He doesn’t get a step in before I’ve grabbed him by the neck, pulled his gun out, and aimed it at his head.
All the men tense. Some grab their guns and point it at me.
“I’m Zeke Kane. And I have no problem killing this man and every single one of you if I have to. My wife is in danger. I’ve survived an entire night chasing after her in the ocean, and no one is going to stop me. Now, put your guns down.”
All the men immediately drop their guns to my surprise. Either they all love the man I’m pointing my gun at, or they are all pussies.
“Mr. Kane, we are at your service. We didn’t recognize you at first, but we work for Kai Black. We will take you wherever you need and fight by your side,” the man standing in front of me says.
I look around at all the eyes staring back and me. I recognize a few men and even know a few by name.
I found one of the Black organization’s ships. Thank God.
I release the man I’m holding.
“I’ll go get you that towel,” the man says, scampering off.
I chuckle. I don’t give a damn about a towel. I can stay dripping wet and cold. The only thing that will truly warm me is getting Siren back.
“Where to, sir?” Dustin, a man I recognize, says, looking at me for direction.
“I need to get to the security system,” I say now that I recognize this as one of the Black’s boats. We put a tracking system on all the yachts. We can track the one that Langston and Siren are on.
An hour later, we pull up to the shore of San Salvador Island. I spot the yacht parked at the end of the pier, and I don’t wait until our boat is tied up to jump onto the pier and run to their boat.
“Siren!” I scream as I run to the yacht.
I don’t get an answer. I pull my gun out in case I face Langston. I realize now why Siren wanted us all to shoot first as soon as we were faced with Bishop. She knew Bishop was Langston, our supposed friend. She knew but couldn’t break our hearts. She warned us in the only way she knew how.
I failed before. I won’t fail this time. If I come face to face with Langston again, I’ll shoot him and ask questions later. That’s what he deserves after what he did to Siren.
“Siren!” I yell as I run through the top deck.
Nothing.
I move up to the top decks.
Nothing.
I run down to the bottom decks and yell. I open every door slowly, through the painstaking security process that Kai and Enzo installed on their yachts so each room could act like a safe room when danger approached.
Nothing.
They aren’t here.
I emerge and walk back onto the pier, where the men have now disembarked the boat.
“Did you find her?” Dustin asks.
“No, but they couldn’t have gone far,” I say, although my words are more of a hope than a truth.
Dustin nods. “We will canvass the town. We will find her, Mr. Kane.”
“Call me Zeke.”
“Of course.”
“Let’s go.”
I don’t bother putting the gun away. I don’t give a fuck if the police try to arrest me, or if I’m putting fear into people around me. I need the gun to shoot Langston or Julian if I see either of them.
Most people don’t notice the gun, or if they do, they don’t question it. They look at me and feel like it belongs to me. And no one dares take it away.
I search the island, and everywhere I look, I see Siren. Every woman with long brown hair and a thin muscular frame must be her. But she’s not here.
Where are you, baby? Call out to me. Use your voice. Tell me where you are.
If I can’t find them in town, I’m guessing they went to the airport. I’m about to tell the men that’s where I’m headed when I stop dead in my tracks.
Walking casually down the sidewalk like two friends are Siren and Langston. She is talking quickly, and he is shaking his head, which makes her laugh.
She’s laughing.
I don’t know how to process this scene. My brain expected to find her tied up with a knife or gun to her throat. I expected to find her hurt, hanging onto life, not walking downtown like she’s headed to get a coffee or pick up a souvenir at one of the local shops.
What.
The.
Fuck.
I want to run across the street and grab her. I want to shoot Langston and beat him until he answers every question.
Instead, I watch. I try to understand what is happening. Why she is walking with him so calmly?
Maybe I was wrong? Maybe he isn’t Bishop? I did tell her to trust him after all.
No.
Julian confirmed he was Bishop.
Langston is Bishop.
I’m about to shoot Langston when I hear the click of a gun behind me. I don’t have to turn around to know who is standing behind me with a gun pointed at my head.
Julian Reed.
I was too focused on Siren. It gave him the opportunity to sneak up on me.
“Come with me or Siren dies,” Julian says.
He’s threatened our lives before, and every time I’ve fallen for it. I’ve not killed him because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought the best way to protect Siren was to make a deal with Julian. Not anymore. Siren is pregnant. The only way to protect her and my baby is to kill the man behind me.
6
Siren
I take another step and try not to puke. Apparently, my morning sickness decided to kick in now, at the worst possible time. I’m stuck on a yacht with a man I have no idea if I should trust or not, while trying to avoid another madman who might kill me or my baby, while also trying to figure out how to save my husband from dying to protect me.
Perfect timing.
“Do you have what you need yet?” Langston Bishop asks next to me.
“No, I told you I need Sprite and crackers. That always helps when I feel sick.”
He sighs. “You do realize that sugar water is not going to help you. It’s crap.”
I chuckle. “It will help me. It always helps.”
He rolls his eyes. “Let’s try this store. If they don’t have it, though, we are buying what they have and getting the hell out of here.”
He grabs my bicep and guides me into the fifth store we’ve entered on the island. I was surprised when I started puking last night that Langston changed course and directed us to the nearest island. He did it to get me medical help. I said I didn’t need it, just Sprite and crackers.
“Look, they have 7-Up and oyster crackers,” Langston says as he leads me to the back of the store.
I keep waiting for him to pull a gun on me, to lose his patience, and say he’s done with my silly mission, but so far he hasn’t. We just keep going from store to store, him humoring me like my mission is going to actually help me, when actually each store we enter is another chance for me to escape.
He knows that, but still, he allows me to do it.
I scrunch up my nose. “I said Sprite, not 7-Up.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No, it is most definitely not. Sprite is heaven from the gods. 7-Up is like dog piss.”
Langston shakes his head. “I don’t know how Zeke puts up with you. You are the most frustrating woman.”
“If you don’t want to put up with me, you could just let me go. I’ll stay here and keep up my search for Sprite, while you can go look for the box that holds the weapon to take down the world in it.”
“I think I spotted another store on the corner. Maybe they have your precious Sprite and crackers.”
I frown, not understanding why he hasn’t grabbed the supplies and marched my ass back on the boat.
But I can’t think about that for long before my stomach is queasy again and I’m going to be sick in this cute seaside store, if I d
on’t find a bathroom soon.
Langston springs into action. He picks me up honeymoon style and carries me to the bathroom before depositing me on the floor in front of a toilet, seconds before I’m sick.
I don’t know at what point in me throwing up that he leaves, but when my stomach finally settles, I realize I’m alone in the bathroom. I walk to the sink and wash my hands before splashing water on my face and deciding that when I exit, I’ll take the 7-Up.
When I leave the bathroom, I find Langston Bishop standing there.
“How you feeling?”
“Like death. I’ll take the 7-Up.”
It’s then that Langston holds out the items in his hands—Sprite, crackers, and a bag of something else.
“You found Sprite?”
He nods with a smug smile.
I take the items from him and immediately start sipping on the Sprite. It feels like fizzy heaven going down my throat. I tear open the crackers and munch on them as well, instantly knowing that I’ll be able to get through this now that I have the items I’ve been desperate for.
“What’s that?” I ask about the bag.
“More crackers and Sprite. I made sure to stock up.”
“Good thinking.”
“And some ginger.” He pulls the item out and offers it to me. “Munch on this, it will help more than that disgusting carbonated death drink.”
“Hey, the Sprite is helping.”
“Sure, it is. Just try it.” I take the piece of dried ginger from his hand, and I pop it into my mouth, deciding I should be nice.
We walk out of the store with the items in hand.
“Better?” he asks as we walk.
I feel much better, so I nod.
He grins, thinking the ginger is helping. But it’s definitely my Sprite.
Langston Bishop starts guiding me back toward the yacht.
“I’m not getting back on that thing with you. I have my Sprite, but it’s not a miracle cure. It won’t keep me from getting sick again.”
“You’re sick because you have morning sickness, not because of motion sickness from the yacht. Come on.”