Billionaire at Sea 2

Home > Romance > Billionaire at Sea 2 > Page 8
Billionaire at Sea 2 Page 8

by K. L. Middleton


  “The woman is a greedy, sick individual,” Ransom said.

  “Marissa might be a cold-hearted bitch but she loves Jake in her own way,” I replied. “I have a feeling that once they get the money, Jake will be released to her.”

  “Probably,” said Marshall.

  Ridley cleared her throat. “And I thought my ex was an ass. I can’t believe how vile Marissa is.”

  “I’m still trying to swallow it myself,” I replied.

  “Something tells me that no matter what happens, Marissa is going to want you dead, Damian. Then she’ll regain custody of Jake and obviously, you’ll be out of the picture for good,” said Marshall.

  “Exactly. And nobody would suspect that she was involved,” I replied, my blood boiling. “She’ll have everything she wants.”

  “That’s why we have to act,” said Marshall.

  “So, what now?” I asked, feeling a little relieved. As horrible as it sounded, the news was actually good for us. Jake was still in danger, but it wasn’t life-threatening. Not like I’d thought. And now, knowing this, we could finally do something about the situation on the ship.

  “We take back the ship and send out someone to rescue Jake,” said Marshall, as if reading my mind.

  “Sounds easy enough,” I replied dryly.

  “It won’t be easy, but I have a friend who’s a Navy SEAL and on temporary leave at the moment. If we can find the location where Jake is being held, I know he’ll get him back for us,” said Marshall.

  “Okay. How are we going to find out where Jake is being held?” asked Ransom.

  “We send someone to find Marissa,” I replied, staring ahead. “And have them do whatever it takes to make her talk.”

  19

  Mia

  We drove in silence. I could tell that he was having some serious doubts about me and so after a while, I began a light conversation. As frightened and sick of him as I was, I knew that the only way I’d make it out of this alive was to make him warm up to me again.

  “So, how has your back been doing?” I asked.

  John had a history of back problems. One of his legs was slightly shorter than the other, although you’d never know by looking at him. When we’d been together, he’d visited the chiropractor at least once a month to have what he called “adjustments.”

  He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. “It’s been okay, actually. I’ve been doing a lot of stretches.”

  “That’s good. I went to see a chiropractor last month,” I told him. “I know you were always telling me to go in and have an alignment.”

  John smiled. “You did? How did that work for you?”

  “Pretty good, actually,” I replied.

  The truth was that it had felt good, but I didn’t really know for certain if the woman had necessarily made my back any better than what it had been before.

  “I told you, didn’t I?” he said. “Everyone should go in and have it done. I bet your spine is straighter than it’s ever been.”

  “Uh, maybe.”

  “I thought you looked like you were taller than I last remembered,” he said, with an amused expression.

  I smirked. “So, you think the chiropractor made me taller?”

  He shrugged. “No, but I’m sure you’re standing up much straighter than before.” Still smiling, John turned on the radio. “What would you like to listen to?”

  “Whatever you’d like to,” I said.

  “Are you still taking photos?” he asked.

  John hadn’t ever taken an interest in my hobby so I knew that it was a sign that he was trying to make me feel more comfortable.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still have that old camera your dad gave you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t use it, do you?”

  “No. I’ve kept it for sentimental reasons though,” I replied.

  “I’ll have to send someone to your place to retrieve it,” John said. “Once we get out of the country.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, feeling ill. The thought of fleeing the country with him was frightening.

  “You’re going to have to leave most things behind,” he said. “But, the good news is, we’ll have a lot of money to buy you anything you want.”

  Suddenly, there was a loud thumping noise from the trunk.

  John swore.

  “Oh, my God, is she still alive?” I asked, feeling both relieved and frightened for her at the same time.

  Another loud thumping noise, as if Tracy was kicking the trunk, made me gasp.

  “I don’t know how she can be,” he mumbled.

  “Shouldn’t you check?” I whispered.

  “I can’t. Someone might see her.”

  We were on a busy road and there were a lot of drivers. I pictured John opening up the trunk and Tracy leaping out.

  “How far away is this place that we’re going to?” I asked as Tracy began kicking again.

  “About an hour away.”

  “What if someone hears her?” I asked as we approached a set of stoplights.

  Sighing, he opened the windows and turned up the radio, blocking out the noises from the trunk. He switched the station to something heavy metal and it blared through the speakers. As we slowed for the red light, a young couple in the car next to us gave us the thumbs up.

  John smiled at them.

  The light turned green and we began moving again. He turned down the music.

  “By the way,” he said. “You’re dead.”

  I stared at him in horror. “What?”

  He laughed. “I told my associates on Damian’s yacht that you died.”

  “Why?”

  “To keep you alive. I told them that you tried getting away by jumping into the ocean. You drowned in the process. You didn’t learn how to swim in the last few months did you? It would make the story more believable if you haven’t.”

  “I haven’t learned how to swim yet,” I replied, staring down at my hands.

  “I’m sure that they told your boyfriend, Damian.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said irritably.

  John laughed. “My, you’re sensitive. Is the Red River flowing this week?”

  I gave him a dirty look.

  He laughed. “Seriously, though. My men think you’re dead and that’s a good thing.”

  “What about Travis? He saw me leave the house with you.”

  “Travis knows nothing about the kidnapping and isn’t part of the group on the ship.”

  I frowned. “Who is he then?”

  “He works for Thomas Gambini,” replied John.

  “Why does that name sound familiar?” I asked and then it hit me. John had mentioned Gambini when he’d tried talking me out of getting on Damian’s boat. He was mafia.

  “Thomas’s nephew was a client of mine. I defended him when he was charged with robbery and arson. The evidence all pointed to him and he should have gone to prison.” John smiled proudly. “But, he had me for a lawyer.”

  “So, you got him off and now you have a friend for life,” I said dryly.

  “I don’t know about ‘for life’ but I called in a favor and they sent me Travis. I’m sure in their eyes, the debt has now been paid. Which is fine.”

  “What about the guys on the ship? How did you meet them?”

  “I suppose you’re going to find out soon enough. I met them through Marissa Stryker.”

  My jaw dropped. “Damian’s ex-wife?”

  He nodded.

  “Are you saying that she’s involved with kidnapping her own child?”

  “Marissa has a lot of hatred toward Damian. She blames him for making her life hell and taking away her son.”

  “Making her life hell?” I repeated. “If I remember correctly, Marissa was the one who caused the divorce with her partying and neglect of Jake.”

  “Oh, she was. But, Marissa doesn’t see it that way. She thinks of herself as a victim and believes that Damian is the one responsible for a
ll of her misfortune.”

  “She sounds like a selfish bitch.”

  “She is. A ruthless one who isn’t afraid to do whatever it takes to get her way.”

  “So, she’s doing all of this for money?”

  “Among other things,” he replied. “Marissa wants her son all to herself.”

  “Is she planning on disappearing with Jake?”

  “Actually, they’re not the ones who will disappear.”

  “She wants Damian dead,” I said, feeling sick to my stomach again. The woman was a monster.

  “Yes.”

  “So, he’s going to pay the money and then die?”

  “Not just him,” he said. “There won’t be any witnesses. The kind of cash involved in this, there can’t be. But, rest assured… now that my associates believe you’re dead, we can disappear. Once I get my share of the money, we’ll fly to Europe. What do you think of Monaco?”

  “Monaco?” I asked.

  “Yes, Mia. It’s always been a dream of mine to visit there.”

  I licked my lips. “I remember.”

  He’d always talked about going to Western Europe and the French Riviera.

  “With my cut, we can buy an amazing house and live there. Just you and me,” he said, grabbing my hand.

  Another thud from the trunk.

  “What do you say?” he asked, ignoring it. “We can start over and live the kind of life we both deserve.”

  I felt like I was in some kind of a crazy Quentin Tarantino movie. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  I forced a smile to my face. “It sounds lovely.”

  20

  Damian

  After removing Franz’s coveralls, I went into the bathroom and quickly put them on. Afterward, we carried him back into the bathroom, took his mask and cell phone, then placed him into the tub.

  “You recognize him?” asked Ransom.

  “No,” I replied, staring down at the man, who was in pretty good shape for a man in his fifties.

  “Neither do I,” said Marshall.

  It didn’t mean that we hadn’t met him before. Franz wasn’t anyone who would stand out in a crowd. He was ordinary looking with a shaved head and goatee.

  “How long do you think he’ll be out?” asked Ridley.

  “Not for long,” I replied.

  “Let’s barricade him in here so he can’t get out if he does wake up,” said Marshall.

  “Good plan,” I answered.

  We walked out of the bathroom and then jammed a chair under the door handle.

  “What about the other gunmen?” I asked, slipping the clown mask over my face.

  “One of them is with the captain, on the bridge. I’m pretty sure the others are still in the parlor, watching the group,” he replied.

  “You must have taken one out already,” said Ransom, motioning toward the coveralls he wore.

  “I was supposed to show one of them where your office was so he really could relieve Franz,” he said. “Needless to say, he’s one less problem for us.”

  I patted my cousin on the back. “Good job. You could have been killed, though.”

  “I figured we all had better odds of surviving by going this route,” he replied.

  I nodded. “Well, we appreciate it.”

  “So, what do you want me to do?” asked Ransom as Marshall pulled the mask back over his face.

  “Stay here,” I told him.

  “Are you sure? I could grab one of the other guns we’ve hidden. You know they’re going to think twice about firing at me. I haven’t paid them their money yet.”

  “That’s true,” said Marshall. “In fact, we could probably use him as a distraction.”

  I sighed. I didn’t want to place Ransom’s life in any more danger than it already was, but something told me that when the time came, we were going to need another armed person.

  “Take me with you as an excuse. You can explain that I’ve paid the money,” said Ransom.

  “Good plan,” said Marshall. “We’ll head up to the bridge first and take down the guy guarding the captain. Then, you’ll have a costume, too. From there, we’ll disarm the others.”

  The plan sounded crazy enough to work. I just hoped that we’d be able to disarm them without anyone getting hurt.

  “If we’re going to go, we’d better do it now,” said Ransom. “Before someone else decides to check in on us.”

  “Okay. Hold on.” I walked over to one of the pictures on my wall. Behind it was a safe. I opened it up and pulled out a Glock 42. I quickly loaded it and handed it to Ransom. “I kept this one here just in case the other guns were found.”

  “Good idea,” said Marshall. He reached into his coveralls and pulled out a pistol. “By the way, I grabbed this one on the way over, too.”

  “Nice,” I said. “We’re going to need it.”

  “Speaking of which… what about me?” asked Ridley.

  Marshall turned to her. “Have you ever fired a gun before?”

  “No,” she replied, looking anxious.

  He stepped over to her. “Listen carefully, Ridley. This is the safety. You can’t fire it unless it’s off.” Marshall then explained how to use the gun if she had to.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, taking it from him. I noticed that her hands were shaking and I wondered if it was a good idea for her to even be handling a weapon.

  “Keep it pointed down,” he said, frowning. “The safety is off but it’s still loaded and you never want to take any chances with one of these.”

  “Sorry,” she said, pointing it toward the floor.

  “Don’t be,” he said. “I just gave you a crash course and you’re scared. I don’t expect you to know everything. Just don’t forget to take the safety off if he gets out of the bathroom.”

  “I’m staying here?” she squeaked.

  “Yes. You’ll be safer here than with us. We’ll come back for you once we handle the situation. If Franz somehow gets out of the bathroom, don’t be afraid to shoot the bastard,” said Marshall.

  She shuddered. “What if I can’t?”

  “Then he’ll more than likely get the gun from you and believe me, he won’t have a problem with pulling the trigger. Don’t give him the opportunity,” I said.

  “Okay,” Ridley replied.

  “Lock the door when we leave, Ridley,” I told her.

  She nodded.

  I looked at Marshall and Ransom. “You ready?”

  They nodded.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the cabin door.

  21

  Reed

  There were four of them in the parlor, each wearing garish clown masks and threatening us with AK-47s.

  “What a fucking nightmare, huh?” murmured Thane, who sat next to me.

  “No shit,” I said, thinking back to when the clowns had first boarded the ship.

  “Excuse me!” called out Simon, raising his hand in the air. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “He probably needs another hit of coke,” I murmured.

  Thane snorted. “No shit.”

  “You just went an hour ago,” said one of the gunman, Chuckles.

  Simon smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, sorry. I have a small bladder.”

  “That’s not my problem. That’s yours. You can wait,” said Chuckles.

  “No, I really can’t.” He stood up. “Tell you what, I’ll just piss over there, in that vase.”

  “Sit down!” ordered Chuckles.

  “What’s your problem, asshole? Do you not know who I am?” asked Simon, glaring at him.

  “No. Why don’t you enlighten me, oh great and powerful ‘Oz’,” Chuckles said dryly.

  “Very funny, Chuckles. The name is Simon Catterall,” he answered.

  The clown stared at him. “Why didn’t you say so? Simon Catterall. Is it really the Simon Catterall?

  “Yes. In the flesh,” replied Simon, rubbing his nose.

  “Did you hear that?” Chuckles said loudly, turning toward
his friends. “We have Simon Catterall on board. I had no idea this day was going to turn out to be such extraordinary day. Silly me… and I almost decided not to show up to work today.”

  Simon’s eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t know who you are and I don’t particularly care,” said Chuckles, turning back to face him. “But, you’re getting on my nerves so sit down and keep your mouth shut before you have a permanent hole there.”

  “He’s Ransom’s drummer,” said one of the other clowns.

  “Ransom’s drummer,” repeated Chuckles, sounding amused. “Tell me if I’m wrong, Teddy, but isn’t the name of Ransom’s band called ‘Ransom’?”

  “Yes,” said the other clown. “I believe so.”

  “I mean, it’s definitely not called Ransom and Simon. It’s not even called Ransom and Company. It’s just plain… Ransom. I’m pretty sure it’s that way because the rest of you cock-suckers can be replaced,” he said, waving his gun around. “But, not Ransom. He’s the voice and the face that people expect to see when they pay all of that money for a ticket. So you, Simon Catterall, should get over yourself. Hell, you’re not even worth collecting a ransom on.”

  “Look who’s talking,” said Simon, losing his temper. “You sit there and criticize me and yet, here you are… standing around wearing a clown mask with your thumb up your ass, waiting for direction from somebody with authority. You’re just a bloody wanker with an itchy index finger, whereas I’m something you’ll never be. A celebrity.”

  “You know, you’re right. And, like most musicians, you’ll probably be even more popular after you’re gone. By the way, you’re welcome.”

  “For what?” asked Simon.

  Chuckles pointed the rifle at him. “For immortalizing you.”

  Before I knew what was happening, Simon was riddled with bullets and people were screaming.

  22

  Damian

  “What in the hell was that?” I said, hearing the gunshots.

  “Nothing good,” said Marshall as we made our way to the bridge.

 

‹ Prev