by Sybil Bartel
“I know who you are,” he said carefully with a Spanish accent.
“Then why the fuck are you aiming at me?”
He slowly lowered his weapon. “There was something in the water.”
Motherfucking shit. If it was Preston, he wouldn’t have gotten close enough to leave me my dry bag with this fuck standing right here. I scanned the waters looking for a boat, but didn’t see shit. Looking back at the guard, I barked out a question. “Then why didn’t you shoot?”
“I—”
“I didn’t hear any shots fired,” I interrupted, moving toward him. Fucker was tall, but skinny like a goddamn junkie. “I asked you a question. Why the fuck didn’t you shoot?”
Averting his gaze, he waved toward the water. “I did not see what it was. I heard—”
“You heard what?” Purposely cutting him off in a dick dominant move, I tipped my chin toward the water. “You hear shit, your first reaction should be to fire. This isn’t fucking playtime. You have a job to do. Did you, or didn’t you see something?”
“I told you I heard something,” he bit out before making a crucial mistake. Turning his back on me, he pointed at the pilings. “There was—”
He never had a chance.
One hand to his chin, the other to the back of his head, I twisted up and sideways.
His neck snapped, and he dropped to the ground.
One down.
Stepping over his body, the fucking cell vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out and answered. “What?”
“Is Santos behaving?” Dante asked.
“You shouldn’t let him use your leverage as a fuck toy.”
Pause. Then he laughed.
“What do you want? I’m busy.”
His laugh died. “Doing what?” he asked suspiciously.
“Introducing myself to your shit staff.” I spotted two more fucks behind an outbuilding passing a joint. “I’m worth five of these assholes.”
Dante let out a derisive sound. “Doubtful.”
“Yeah? I’m watching two of your junkie motherfuckers getting high as we speak.”
“Who?” he barked.
“Does it matter?” I glanced at the time. Seven minutes. I’d told her ten.
“Put the phone on speaker,” Dante ordered.
I hit the speaker and stepped out of the shadows. “Hey,” I yelled.
One of the fucks jumped, and the other dropped the joint, stepping on it and rattling off an excuse in Spanish.
Glaring at them, I held up the phone. “Dante wants to talk to both of you.”
“Who am I speaking with?” Dante demanded.
“Fernando,” one muttered.
“Carlos,” the other added.
“What are you two doing?” Dante asked.
“Just taking a break, boss,” Carlos answered. “We’re good. Everything’s quiet. We’re back on watch.” He palmed the rifle hanging from the strap on his shoulder. “We got it.” The fuck didn’t even put his finger on the trigger guard.
“How many did you say, Asher?” Dante asked me casually.
“Five.” I knew what the fuck he was getting at.
“Prove it,” Dante demanded.
Quick, precise, I fired two shots.
Fernando and Carlos dropped.
I took the phone off speaker as a third guy came running around the back of the building yelling for his dead buddies.
Aiming, I fired off a third shot.
His yelling died with him.
“You’re fucking welcome,” I told Dante.
“I expect you to prove you’re worth four of my men now,” he stated, all business. “If not, I’ll extract four people from your life.”
He could fucking go ahead and try.
Someone in the background on his end called his name, saving me from telling him to count his days.
Dante ignored whoever it was. “Protect my paycheck, Mr. Asher.”
“Pay me and I will,” I clipped, keeping the lie going. “I have to go. I’m on patrol now.” I hung up.
Grabbing two extra pieces off the dead fucks, I jogged back to the main house.
A DOUBLE KNOCK SOUNDED ON the bathroom door. “It’s me. Open up.”
My heart stopped then started twice as fast as I pushed up off the floor from where I was huddled in the corner. I couldn’t open the door fast enough.
So tall he almost hit the top doorframe, his shoulders filling the width of the opening, he took in my borrowed shirt. “You ready?”
Afraid to leave the sanctity of the bathroom, terrified not to, I hesitated.
His shrewd gaze measured my hesitation, and he took my chin. “Okay, sweetheart, listen carefully.”
Unblinking, I stared back.
“We’re going to walk through the living room. Then you’re gonna wait inside while I disable the guy on the deck. Once he’s down, we’re gonna stick to the shadows and double-time it to the dock. When we get there, no matter what I tell you to do, you do it. No hesitation. You understand?”
I nodded, because for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to speak.
“You know how to shoot?”
I shook my head.
Seemingly unfazed by my lack of verbal communication, he pulled a gun from his waistband and flipped it, handing it to me handle first.
Hands shaking, I took it.
He pointed. “Safety on and off.” He moved a small clip-like thing down then up again before positioning my hand on the trigger. “Trigger and trigger guard.” He moved my finger off the trigger. “When you’re not shooting, rest your finger there. If you need to shoot, both hands, arms out, aim and fire. Questions?”
Now completely terrified, I shook my head.
He repositioned another gun in his waistband and took the rifle hanging on his shoulder in his right hand. “When we get to the docks, wait for me to clear the three guards there, then we’re going to the yellow speedboat. If anything happens to me, or if I tell you to, you get on that boat and go. No hesitation. Keys are in the ignition. Do you know how to drive a boat?”
I nodded.
“Okay, good. Any other questions?”
I had to ask. I held up three fingers.
“Don’t worry about it. I can handle three guards. You ready?”
No, but I nodded.
“Let’s go.” His left hand fell to my back, and he led us out of the bedroom.
With the gun weighing heavily in my hand, I didn’t know if I wanted to drop it or fire at every single person who wasn’t Ty.
Lowering his voice, Ty pushed me into a corner. “Wait here.”
Before I could nod, he was stepping through the slider. “Hey, kid.”
The younger man glanced at Ty with a smile on his face. “Boss?”
“Turn around,” Ty ordered.
“Oh-kay,” the younger man said hesitantly, but he turned.
“Sorry, kid,” Ty muttered, putting him in a choke hold faster than I could inhale.
The younger man went limp in Ty’s arms, and Ty laid him down. Stepping over him, Ty held his hand out to me, and I saw the first indication of any kind of strain on his face. His eyebrows drawn together, he made a come here gesture. “Come on, come on, let’s go,” he clipped in a hushed whisper.
I stepped on to the deck.
Taking my good arm, Ty led me to the steps. “Stay one step behind me. Keep to the shadows. Gun in front of you, but not aimed at me. Got it?” He spared me a quick glance.
I nodded.
“Double-time, you ready?”
I nodded again.
He didn’t waste any more words.
We were moving.
Shockingly quiet, he flew down the steps and waited for me at the bottom. When I was one step behind him, he took off across the sand, half crouched with his rifle in front of him. My heartbeat pounding so hard it was deafening, I followed suit.
Ignoring the small shells and hard pieces underfoot, desperate to stay close to him, I ran t
hrough the sand. Too quick, we were at the foot of the dock. At the other end, under the one light, three armed men stood.
Fear soaked me in a blanket of panic, and I grabbed the back of Ty’s shirt.
Grasping my wrist, Ty pulled me to his left and down into a crouch. “You’re not going to make a sound, not matter what, understood?” he whispered.
I nodded.
“When the last body drops, you run like hell down that dock and get on the yellow boat. I’ll be right behind you, okay?”
Body. Not man, not person, not living, breathing thing, body.
“Hey,” he whisper-snapped. “You got this?”
Biting my lip, still not able to force any words out, I nodded.
He stared at me in warning. “Do not hesitate.”
I nodded again.
“Deep breath,” he commanded. “Count to three.”
Inhaling, I sucked in salt air and fear and started to count, but I didn’t even get to the first number.
His rifle aimed, Ty stood and fired off three shots.
One, two, three.
A deafening punch of three blasts rang in my ears, and my mouth opened on a silent scream as three bodies dropped.
One, two, three.
Blood, brain matter, limbs twisted, one body falling off the dock with a splash. So much blood.
“Move, move, move!” Ty whisper-yelled.
Onetwothree, onetwothree, onetwothree, I moved.
I didn’t run down the dock.
I sprinted.
My legs pumping, my arms swinging, I kept my eyes on the yellow boat.
Until I couldn’t.
Two bodies and a bloodbath in the way of my freedom, I had to look or risk falling.
Dreading it, fearing it, welcoming it, I looked.
Then my running step fell in a pool of fresh blood, and I leapt, once, twice, and cleared the bodies. And in that moment, I realized he was right.
They were bodies, not men.
Bodies that would have kept me from my freedom. Kept him.
And that was my only thought as I cut left at the end of the dock and ran toward the yellow boat.
Escape.
Escape, escape, escape.
I jumped on to the boat, but my blood-wet foot slipped, and I fell to my knees on the deck. My hands went out in front of me to brace my fall, and I dropped the gun.
The weapon scattered across the deck, and I scrambled for it as two heavy-booted feet landed next to me a split second after a thick rope thunked onto the deck.
My fingers curled around the heavy metal as Ty twisted the key and the loud twin engines came to life.
I sat up and the boat lurched forward.
One hand steadily holding his rifle, his other moving from throttle to wheel, Ty pulled away from the dock, and the speed boat shot off toward open waters.
The engines roared.
The wind blew.
My bare foot smeared a dead man’s blood on the deck.
I smiled.
WE WERE FUCKED.
I pushed toward full throttle but already there were more men running down the dock as we pulled out.
I glanced at her on the deck. Legs splayed, hand on her heart, she was smiling like she’d lost her shit.
I looked over my shoulder again.
Two men jumped on the remaining cruiser as a third untied it. At least the kid wasn’t one of them. Checking the fuel tank on the speedboat, I angled back toward the shore and headed south to the spoil island.
My borrowed cell vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out and answered as I cut inland between the first spoil island and mainland.
“You’re dead,” Dante clipped.
“You first.” I hung up and tossed the cell over the side of the boat so we couldn’t be tracked.
The gesture wiped the smile from her face, and her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but nothing came out.
Before we hit the northern tip of the next spoil island, I knew we were doubly fucked.
No Christensen.
I was too early. Or he was too late. Whichever, we were on our own.
I glanced behind us again.
The other boat rounded the eastern side of the first spoil island, and I only had one advantage now.
Speed.
I glanced at Ludeviene.
She looked behind us then up at me with fear.
“Hang on,” I barked over the roar of the engines.
She moved back and gripped the side of a seat.
I pushed it to full throttle and aimed at open waters, but it wasn’t a long-term solution. I needed to get back on land, preferably somewhere populated. Turning on the boat’s GPS, I programmed it to Key West, then glanced over my shoulder again.
I could still see the cruiser, but I’d put enough distance between us that they wouldn’t get a clean shot off.
I was checking the GPS when she tugged on my leg.
Adjusting course, I spared her a glance. “We’re good. We’re putting distance between us and them.”
She held her hands up, palms open.
I knew what she was asking, but I gave her shit on purpose. “You’re gonna have to use words, babe. I can’t mind read.”
Then she surprised the fuck out of me.
Frowning in frustration, she signed.
She fucking signed.
Rusty and slow, her hands still moved through the words with grace. Where are we going?
I signed back.
Key West.
Her eyes went wide, then her hands moved. You know sign language.
“Yeah.”
She signed again. Why?
“Long story,” I lied, tipping my chin at the gun I gave her that was resting in her lap. “Don’t lose that.”
Determination filtered across her face as she spelled out words. I will not lose it. Why are we going to Key West?
I glanced over my shoulder then checked the GPS as I answered. “We need to get back on land, and I need somewhere as crowded as possible.”
She raised an eyebrow at me.
“Because I’ll have a better chance of getting us transportation, and it’ll be a less likely chance of a fucking shootout.” I hoped.
Alarm spread across her face.
“Don’t worry. Dante isn’t known for public bloodbaths like some of his colleagues.” Or like my last boss, thank fuck.
Crossing her arms, she looked away.
The night dark as hell, I scanned the horizon and the faint outline of the coast. The GPS showed another grouping of small islands coming up, and I made a calculated decision. Cutting back east toward land, I headed for the groupings, but I had to slow our speed.
Ludeviene eased herself up and took the seat next me as the boat slowed.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Not being a dick, sweetheart, but I want you back on deck. You’re out of sniper range that way.”
She stiffened under my touch, but she got back down.
I pulled out my cigarettes and lit up.
She didn’t say anything, but she made a face.
I almost smiled. “Don’t like smokers?”
She shrugged.
“Come on, sweetheart. Use those hands and talk to me, or better yet, give me your sweet voice. We’ve got—” I glanced at the GPS. “—forty-seven minutes before we hit Key West.”
She was still a moment, then her hands started to move.
I can’t speak. I don’t know why. I smelled the smoke on you before. At the club. You smell nice.
“You’re upset. You’ll talk when you’re ready. And thanks for the compliment.” I took a drag and winked at her before cutting between two small islands. “Right back at you.”
She dropped her head, but she signed again. You wear cologne. It is nice.
I laughed. “I only wear cologne if I’m on a job.”
She held her hands up again.
“Masks the cigarette smell.” Taking another drag, I glanced behi
nd us.
No it doesn’t, she signed.
No visual anymore of the other boat, I stayed the new course and drove deeper into the cluster of islands. My attention on the depth meter, I missed something she signed. “I didn’t catch that.”
She turned her head and her hands went to her lap.
I tossed the cigarette overboard and cut into a channel that didn’t look big enough for the boat but the GPS was showing I could clear it. Slowing to an idle, I checked my clearance, then glanced at her. “Tell me again.”
Her hands moved, but she didn’t look at me.
I wish he was dead.
I didn’t ask who. I didn’t have to. “Working on it, sweetheart.”
Crossing her arms, she barely nodded.
I maneuvered the boat toward the end of the channel. “We’re almost out of here. Then we’ll cut south.” I glanced behind us. “We lost the other boat. I’ll get back out to open waters, and we should be in Key West soon.” I pulled out of the channel.
She started to sign.
But as I pulled past the mangroves, lights hit the front of the boat, temporarily blinding me.
Ludeviene gasped, and I knew.
I fucking knew.
Dante.
TY PULLED OUT OF THE small channel and a bright spotlight hit us so unexpectedly, I gasped.
My hand went to my forehead to block the blinding light, and Ty swore a second before my eyesight adjusted.
Dante stood on the deck of the huge yacht.
“Hold on,” Ty clipped.
It was all the warning I got.
Cutting the wheel hard as he threw the throttle forward, Ty spun the long speedboat like a race car, and we shot around the yacht.
Yelling erupted on the yacht, then wind whipped past my head.
“Fuck!” Grabbing my arm, Ty dragged me in front of him. “Hold the wheel straight and stay down.” Turning, he swung the rifle hanging from a strap over his shoulder to his front and began firing.
Three shots rang out, and my hands jerked.
The boat jumped, and Ty cursed, grabbing my hand. “Steady, steady.” He fired off two more shots. “Hold it steady!”
I gripped the steering wheel as bullets plinked into the boat.
Ty fired two more times, then pulled the trigger a third time but no shot rang out.
“Motherfucker.” Yanking the strap off his head, he threw the rifle overboard, then took the wheel. “Stay down!” Cutting left, he grabbed the gun from his back waistband and fired round after round behind us.