Murphy's Wrath (Murphy's Law Book 2)

by Michelle St. James

  He held up two fingers, then a fist to indicate that the guards were working in twenty-minute intervals on deck.

  The guard wasn’t talking to anyone this time, and Ronan held his breath as the footsteps paused at the edge of the bow. The scent of cigarette smoke drifted downward.

  The motherfucker was stopping for a smoke break.

  Ronan looked at Julia, watching her for signs of fatigue, but she seemed okay.

  A cigarette butt landed in the water a few feet from Ronan’s position and the guard’s footsteps moved around to the other side of the bow, disappearing toward the back of the boat.

  Ronan held out the line for Braden, who would climb first to keep the deck clear while everyone else ascended.

  He stripped off his mask and oxygen tank, then kicked off his flippers. He reached for the rope as the gear sank through the water and started climbing, using his bare feet as leverage on the side of the boat.

  He was aboard the boat less than two minutes later.

  Nick followed suit and Ronan handed the rope to Julia.

  “Just drop everything?” she asked.

  He heard the fear in her voice, and he understood it. Once they dropped the scuba gear, there was no way off the Elysium without one of the small motorboats attached the yacht.

  But they’d been over it a hundred times, and there was no other way. It would be too difficult to climb with the gear. More importantly, they had no place to stash it on board the Elysium, and leaving it in plain sight wasn’t an option for obvious reasons.

  “Just drop it,” he said. “It’ll be okay. You’ve got the rope and you’ll be on the boat in no time.”

  She hesitated, water beading on her face, and he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, kiss the salt from her lips, and tell her that she was safe.

  Except he couldn’t tell her that, because it would be a lie. It had been a lie since the moment they’d entered the water.

  She dropped her face masl. Her oxygen tank went next, followed by the flippers.

  “Remember,” Ronan said, “climb as fast as you can before your arms get fatigued.”

  They’d practiced, but only on the smaller boat they’d been using for their dives. The Elysium’s bow was four times as high off the water.

  She grabbed onto the rope and hung for a few seconds before her feet made contact with the bow. Then she started moving, surprisingly fast, pulling herself hand over hand up the rope.

  She was only a few feet from the top of the bow when she seemed to tire.

  Nick’s head appeared over the side. He reached out a hand. “Come on, Julia. Your sister’s waiting.”

  She resumed the climb, hanging when she was within reach of Nick’s hand, then reaching out for it.

  “I’ve got you,” he said, hauling her on board.

  Ronan dumped his dive equipment and grabbed the rope. When he climbed aboard the Elysium, the others had already put on the thin, rubber-soled dive shoes Braden had packed in the waterproof pouch at his side.

  He handed a pair to Ronan.

  He slipped them on. They would be safer than bare feet and provide better grip, but they’d also allow them to move quietly on the ship.

  Braden reached into the bag he’d carried through the water and removed their weapons. He quickly handed them each a gun, keeping the additional equipment for him and Nick, who would be dealing with the guards while Julia and Ronan looked for Elise.

  “Everybody set?” Ronan asked.

  They nodded.

  “See you on the flip side,” Braden said, moving starboard.

  Nick started along the port side of the boat, weapon drawn. Ronan moved with Julia into position behind him.

  32

  Julia stepped behind Ronan into an unlit room at one side of the boat. When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw that the shadows lurking at the edges of the room were exercise equipment — treadmills, ellipticals, stationary bikes — plus a few weight machines.

  They’d left Nick on the stern after he’d dispatched one of the guards with a quick hit of his gun to the man’s head followed by a bullet, muffled by the weapon’s silencer.

  Nick had thrown him over the side of the boat with a surprising lack of fanfare and waved Ronan and Julia belowdeck.

  They’d moved through an empty but luxurious lounge area before ducking into the exercise room. So far the boat was oddly silent — no music, no crowds, and no guards, none but the one Nick had killed at the rear of the boat and whoever Braden had encountered on the other side.

  Ronan waved her forward toward a door at one end of the exercise room. She called up the images of the boat’s interior and thought the door led to a hall that would take them farther belowdeck to the sleeping cabins.

  Ronan kept his weapon in position and pulled open the door. She expected to move in behind him, then heard the muffled thump of his silencer. When she looked around his broad shoulders, a large man in black was slumped on the floor of the hall, a smear of blood almost blending into the wallpaper behind him.

  “Cover me,” Ronan said, bending to grasp the dead man under the armpits.

  Julia stepped in front of him and raised her weapon while Ronan dragged the man into a bathroom as big as Julia’s apartment in Boston.

  He stepped back into the hall and shut the door. “Let’s keep moving.”

  They moved slowly down the hall, Ronan in the lead, weapon drawn. They passed a sauna, a media room, and what looked like a small spa, complete with two massage tables.

  Julia was bothered by the silence. It felt wrong somehow, like they were on an empty boat drifting through an alternate universe where no one existed in the world but them.

  Murmured voices rose at the end of the hall, and Ronan waved her back against the wall, both of them listening.

  The voices were coming from a room up ahead, one they would have to pass to get to the sleeping cabins, and Ronan held up a hand, indicating that she should stay put while he checked it out.

  She watched as Ronan approached the room at the end of the hall, her weapon slick in her hand, sweat coating the grip.

  He stopped at the edge of the doorway, then leaned in to get a look. She held her breath and a moment later he waved her forward.

  She moved quietly down the hall, grateful for the dive shoes. She couldn’t resist a glance as she slipped past the partially open door, but once she’d looked, she wished she hadn’t.

  The room was some kind of computer center, large displays ticking down the time while in one corner dollar values rose next to asset numbers. Three men manned the screens, their backs turned to the door while they tapped at keyboards and touch screens and murmured into their headsets.

  One of the men seemed to be videoconferencing with a suited man onscreen, although Julia couldn’t hear their conversation.

  “Don’t think about it,” Ronan said grimly as they descended a short staircase to the sleeping cabins belowdeck.

  They entered another long hall, this one with closed doors on either side. According to the blueprints, this was where the bedrooms were, the most likely place for Elise to be kept prisoner.

  Ronan tried one of the doors but Julia could see that it was locked.

  She removed the pick set from a zipper in her wet suit and held it up with a question in her eyes.

  Ronan shook his head and mouthed the words, “Not yet.”

  He moved down one side of the hall, trying the doors. Julia moved to the other side, doing the same thing. She was on the last door when a familiar voice spoke behind her.

  She froze, then turned to face the door Ronan was trying to open, the voice an urgent whisper behind it.

  “Hello? Is anyone there? My name is Elise Berenger. I’m an American and I’m being kept here against my will. Please help me."

  33

  Ronan had barely registered the voice of the woman behind the door when something exploded from the back of the boat. The explosion was followed by a series of shouts and
the thud of footsteps making their way toward the explosion.

  “Elise! It’s me.” Julia was flattened against the door as if she might be able to materialize through it through sheer force of will. “It’s Julia. I’m going to get you out of here.”

  Gunfire erupted from the front and back of the boat.

  “Uh… I hate to ask, but we could use some help out here.” Nick’s voice was staticky in Ronan’s ear.

  He looked down the hall and back at Julia.

  “Go!” she said. “I’ll get Elise and meet you at the motorboat.”

  “No fucking way.” He took a step back, preparing to kick in the door. “Stand back, Elise.”

  “Wait!” Julia put a hand on his wrist. “If we make noise, they’ll come.” She held up the pick set. “Go help Nick and Braden. I’ll meet you.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Another round of gunfire blew through the boat and the lights flickered in the hall.

  She looked in his eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  He wanted to say no. He wanted to say he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get her off the Elysium alive.

  But that would be the end of them. And besides, it wasn’t true.

  He did trust her. Whether or not he trusted her wasn’t the right question. The question was, did he love her enough to let her go?

  “I trust you,” he said.

  “Then go. I’m right behind you.” She held up her gun. “And I know how to use this.”

  He hesitated and shook his head. “Fuck me.” He kissed her hard and fast. “You better be there, Julia. I’m not leaving without you.”

  She shoved him and he headed back up the flight of stairs as another explosion rocked the boat.

  “Oh my god…” Elise was sobbing on the other side of the door. “Julia? Is that really you?”

  “It’s me,” Julia said, choosing a pick from the pick set. “But I need you to be quiet while I open this door.”

  The pick was too big. She cursed and chose another one. Still too big.

  Footsteps pounded above her and a moment later a tall man with dark curly hair appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the hall where she stood.

  She raised her weapon and fired without thinking, hitting him square in the chest. She could only assume from the blood that blossomed on his shirt as he stumbled back into the hall that he wasn’t wearing a vest.

  “I thought I was dead, Julia. I thought I would never see you again. I thought — ”

  “Seriously, Elise, I need you to be quiet.”

  She fitted another pick into the lock. This one felt just right, and she turned it slowly, forcing herself not to rush, feeling for the tumblers as they cleared the pick.

  Time seemed to slow, like she was moving through a sea of molasses, gunfire coming from all corners of the boat, the crash of breaking glass making its way through the halls.

  The lock gave way with a soft click. Julia turned the knob. Then she was pulling her sister into her arms, both of them crying and talking at the same time.

  She pulled back to get a better look, hardly daring to believe the woman in front of her was her sister. But yes, it was Elise, thinner and with bruises on her neck and arms, her blond hair stringy and two inches longer.

  But alive.

  Elise’s eyes dropped to Julia’s gun.

  Julia took her hand. “Do exactly what I say.” Elise’s eyes were blank, and Julia wondered if she was in shock. “Do you hear me, Elise? You do everything I say.”

  Elise nodded.

  “Stay behind me.”

  Julia moved in front of her sister and stepped into the hall.

  Ronan had lost track of how many times he’d used his gun, how many guards had taken one of his bullets to the head or chest. He’d seen Nick take a hit to the calf, but his brother kept moving, so Ronan could only assume it was a minor wound.

  Braden was somewhere on the bridge, the only sign of his presence the occasional firing of his silenced gun, barely audible in the chaos of the fighting at the rear of the boat.

  He had no sense of how much time had passed since he’d left Julia in the hall outside the sleeping cabins. He was biding his time, lending a hand to Nick and Braden until the moment when he would be forced to go back in after Julia and Elise.

  He caught sight of Nick using one of his vicious upper cuts on a short, stout guard. Nick kicked the man backward, waiting for him to hit the railing before he fired his weapon into the man’s head.

  The guard tipped over the side of the boat, disappearing into the darkness.

  Ronan turned to find another guard advancing, this one wielding a wicked knife.

  Ronan hated knives — which was why he always brought a gun.

  He pointed his weapon at the man’s head and fired.

  Julia had just passed the computer room when Elise emitted a strangling sound behind her. She turned to find her sister’s head locked in the arms of a massive man with a shaved head, an earring glinting in one ear, his eyes bulging and wild.

  Julia shoved her gun against the man’s throat. “Let her go."

  He loosened his grip and stepped back, and Julia fired into his head.

  Elise’s scream went on and on.

  Julia held her sister’s face in her hands. “If you want to live, you’ll shut up and keep moving.”

  The gunfire was louder now that they were closer to the back of the boat, and Julia could hear crashing overhead that could only mean someone was fighting on the bridge.

  She kept her weapon ready and tried not to think about how easy it had been to kill someone, how eager she was to do it again. All the pain and frustration of the past months was leaking out of her, unleashed on the men trying to keep her from leaving with her sister.

  She kept her weapon raised and moved, expecting another obstacle around every corner, ready to deal with it when it came.

  Ronan tipped the dead man into the water and turned to see Braden racing down the stairs from the bridge, blood leaking from a cut above his left eye.

  “One of the crew got off a radio message before I got rid of him,” he said. “I’m guessing reinforcements are on the way.”

  The sudden quiet was deafening. Either they’d dealt with all the guards on the boat or there were others belowdeck, mobilizing for another attack.

  “How long?” Nick asked.

  “Hard to say.” Braden stepped onto the deck. “But we should get out of here.”

  “Get the boat ready,” Ronan said, heading for the Elysium’s interior. “Don’t leave without us.”

  He was almost to the first set of stairs when Julia emerged from belowdeck. She stepped into the lounge off the stern, dragging a hollow-eyed Elise behind her. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Ronan looked at Braden and Nick. “You heard her. Let’s go.”

  “I’ll get rid of the second boat,” Braden said, heading for the boat’s port side.

  Ronan made his way to the motorboat suspended on the starboard side. He used the button to lower the boat until it was level with the deck of the Elysium.

  He helped Elise and Julia into the boat, then waited while Nick climbed in after them. A splash sounded from the other side of the ship and Braden reappeared alongside Ronan.

  “Get in,” Ronan said.

  “Someone has to stay and lower the boat,” Braden said.

  Ronan held his gaze. “I’m aware.”

  “Get in the boat, Ronan.” It was Julia’s voice, and he forced himself not to look at her.

  “We don’t have time to argue,” Ronan said. “I’ll do exactly what you would do — lower the boat and jump in after you. You can pull me aboard.”

  Braden had barely stepped into the boat when Ronan pushed the button. The last thing he saw was Julia glaring at him, tears leaking down her cheeks.

  He watched over the side until the boat hit the water. Nick started the motor and maneuvered it away from the Elysium.

&nb
sp; Ronan stepped over the railing, wondering how long it had been since the Elysium’s crew had radioed for help, wondering if they’d have time to get away before helicopters shone spotlights over the water around the Elysium.

  There was nothing to do but jump.

  34

  Ronan sat on a rock by the river and watched as Julia and Elise picked their way upstream, Chief sniffing the ground around them. Julia stood close to her sister, assuming a protective posture Ronan had become familiar with in the month since they’d returned from Greece.

  They were in the woods surrounding John Taylor’s house outside the city. The place seemed to be a comfort to Elise, and Julia had taken to walking with her sister in the evenings as the summer wore on, the days getting longer and hotter.

  Sometimes Ronan stayed at the house, pretending to listen to John’s stories about the Army when he was really counting the minutes Julia and Elise had been gone, forcing himself not to trail them through the woods just to make sure they were safe.

  It was an impulse that had gotten even more powerful in the week since Julia received an unmarked envelope on the doorstep of the apartment she shared with Elise.

  Ronan hadn’t wanted them to return to the apartment at all. He’d argued that there was plenty of room at the Murphy house, that Julia and Elise would be safer there.

  But Julia had thought it best for Elise to be in familiar surroundings, alone with her sister while she processed everything that had happened to her. In the end, Ronan had forced himself to let Julia go, to have faith in their love the way he’d asked her to have faith in it the night before they’d rescued Elise.

  He’d buried himself in work during the time they’d been apart, knowing Julia needed the time with her sister, and just as important, that Elise needed the time to recover. Then Julia had received the photographs of her mother and grandfather, along with the one that had stopped Ronan’s heart, a picture of Julia on the street outside her apartment just two days before.

  Her voice had shook when she called to tell him, and he’d brought her and Elise to the house he shared with his brothers that same night. They’d been there ever since, rarely leaving except to go to the beach with Ronan and Chief and to visit their grandfather. Nick and Declan didn’t seem mind, and Ronan had come to enjoy the fact that the house was full.