by Cynthia Eden
So many puzzle pieces clicked into place for her. Cameron had gotten the Circe from Florida...had he been motivated to go down the Florida coast because of her case in Hope? Had that given him the idea? He’d gone down the coast, heading to the tip of the Keys, then finding the perfect transportation to make himself invisible.
All because she’d told him about the perp in Hope. How that guy had gotten past the radar of the local authorities for so long.
“In that case,” Samantha murmured, “FBI Agent Jillian West was lured out to the killer’s boat. He wanted her to trade herself for the victim he had.” She eased out a slow breath. “When I came home from that case, Cameron couldn’t understand why Jillian had taken such a risk.” She held Blake’s gaze. “I told him... I told him it was because no agent could stand helplessly by while a victim was threatened.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “I even told him...I would have done the same thing.” And now she was...courtesy of Cameron. “As long as he has his victim, he has power, and Cameron knows that.”
A muscle jerked in Lewis’s jaw. “When he has you and Gamble, he’ll have even more power.”
Tucker nodded. “He’ll use you both.” His sharp gaze flew to Blake. “An FBI agent is a much better bargaining tool than a civilian. He’ll think you have more pull, that by threatening the two of you, he’ll be able to guarantee his ass safe passage out of this mess.”
“No.” Blake gave a grim smile as he disagreed with the other agent. “He just wants to attack me. He’s tired of playing, and he wants to stare right into my eyes when he kills me.”
“Fucking hell,” Tucker muttered.
Samantha pulled away from Lewis. She put her hand on Blake’s shoulder. “We need to talk, right now. Alone.”
His head tilted toward her. “You know I’m right. He took that woman because he knew I’d have to go and try to save her. That’s what the FBI does. It’s what I do.” His lips twisted as he shrugged. “Isn’t that what you tried to do with Tammy White?”
Yes. But...
“The victims come first for us. They always do.”
Her heart thundered in her chest. But this was different. This was different because she knew Cameron intended to kill Blake at the first chance—
“And if I swim out to him, my gun will be fucking useless. I imagine Cameron will be waiting on his stolen boat, a gun pointed right at my head as I board the vessel. He’ll kill me, probably not a straight shot to the heart, because he does like to play a bit with his prey.”
Her lips felt numb. “Never realized you were so good at profiling, too.”
His gaze drifted over her. “I was taught by the best.”
“Blake...”
“He wants you there,” Blake continued, his voice holding no emotion, “because he wants you to watch me die, right? For you to see what happens, for you to realize that he was the one in control. That shit fits with his issues, doesn’t it? Then I’ll be gone, and he’ll be left with you...maybe with the poor woman he abducted, too. And at that point, yeah, he’ll use you to bargain his way to freedom.”
Samantha shook her head. “I’m not letting that happen.”
He stepped toward her. His voice lowered. “I’m not, either, because I fucking swear I will not let him hurt you. Not ever.”
And I won’t let him kill you.
“He thinks he knows me.” Blake smiled. Then he glanced at the others, who were watching him in silence. “But he doesn’t know us.” He pointed to Josh. “Get your USERT group. Get Fiona, get Sean. Get your asses in the water, go in at a point he cannot see. You take your tanks, and you come up to surround his boat. Samantha and I will keep his attention. You make absolutely sure you get out there, and you get ready to be our backup.”
A wide smile split Josh’s face. “Hell, yes.”
“He said no choppers, he said no boats.” Blake nodded. “He said nothing he could see...so you make sure your team is invisible. Got it?”
“He’ll never see us coming,” Josh promised.
“And we’ll be ready onshore,” Tucker said. He inclined his head toward Lewis. “The captain, Alex and I will be at the ready. We’ll have the Coast Guard out a safe distance, and we’ll make sure that Latham has no chance to slip away.”
Their group would be like a net, closing in on Cameron.
“This is the end for him,” Blake vowed. “No more blood. No more games. The end.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BLAKE STOOD ON the beach, the waves coming up to brush over his feet. Bare feet because it would make swimming easier. He’d stripped off his T-shirt but kept on his jeans, and he had two knives holstered on his right ankle. He also had a gun secured to his left ankle, one he hoped would still fire after this trip through the bay. Taking it, just in case.
Samantha was at his side, her head tipped back. It was so dark out there, and the only light came from the glistening stars. Like Blake, she’d armed herself. Her shoes were gone and her shoulders hunched forward a bit as she stared out at the dark bay. “I think I can see the light from his boat.”
Because Latham was waiting.
“The first day that you found me on the pier, I saw a yacht out in the water. That was the day that photo of me was snapped. He was here even then, watching me.” She looked over at Blake. “This isn’t going to end well.”
“You can stay here. He’ll have to deal with me, he’ll—”
She stepped toward him. Leaned up on her tiptoes. He bent and took her lips. Needing her taste, needing her before hell came.
I won’t let him hurt her. I won’t let him get away.
“I love you, Blake.” She stared up at him, her eyes gleaming in the dark. “You need to understand that before we go out there. I will do anything to keep you safe. Know that. Trust me.”
For a moment, he could only shake his head.
She stiffened and started to back away, but he grabbed her and held tight. “Say that fucking again.” Because he needed to hear it—
“I will do anything to keep you safe. I will—”
“No,” he snarled. “You said... You said you loved me.”
She swallowed. “I’ve got shit for timing, don’t I?”
He wasn’t going to complain. “Say it again.” He needed those words.
Her body brushed against his. “I love you, Blake Gamble. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love anyone.”
His mouth crushed down on hers. About fucking time. The kiss was as desperate as he felt. He had the woman of his damn dreams in his arms, a killer waiting, but he also had hope. Because he had her. “Something you need to know, too...” he muttered against her mouth. “You fucking own my heart.”
He felt the surprise rock through her.
Blake forced his head to lift as he stared down at her. This moment mattered. It mattered because he might not ever have another chance to tell her what he’d held back for so long. “I’ve loved you when I thought I could never have you. When crossing the lines was an offense that would have cost me my job and I didn’t give a damn because I wanted you more than a job, more than breath, more than anything else in this world.”
“Blake?” Shock was in her voice. Happiness. Yes, they could still be happy. They would be happy. Latham wasn’t going to win.
“When this mess is over, you and I are going away together. We’re going to fuck for days, and I’m going to prove to you just how much I love you.”
Silence. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
He kissed her once more and knew that their time on the beach had ended. But before he could back away, Samantha’s hand fisted in his shirt. “Whatever he says, whatever he does, don’t believe him. He’s a master at manipulation. Don’t fall for his tricks. And if I...” Her breath slipped out as she eased away from him. “
If I play his game, know that I am just playing. Trust me, completely, just as I’ll trust you.”
“I’d do anything for you, Samantha. You should know that by now.” Trust would be the easy part.
She let him go and began to wade into the water. But then she stilled.
* * *
“THERE’S ONE THING you have to promise not to do.”
His eyes narrowed.
Samantha looked back over her shoulder. “Don’t die for me.”
He stalked into the tide. “I wasn’t planning on dying.” She needed to understand this. “But I would kill for you.” And that was exactly the way he saw this scene ending.
They went into the water, and he barely felt the cold. He swam forward, strong, determined strokes, and Samantha was right at his side.
The SOB had anchored the boat far from shore, several miles out. He’d wanted them to swim so they’d be tired when they got to the vessel. Tired, weaker. Latham thought he had every advantage on his side, but he was wrong.
Blake knew Josh wouldn’t let him down. Josh and his dive team would take their positions. They’d be ready for him.
And Blake would be ready to handle Latham. His arms cut through the water, and he focused on the boat that waited for him.
* * *
SAMANTHA REACHED THE boat first. It was a big vessel, rising out of the darkness. Forty feet, with Circe written in flowing script near the bow. The waves were rougher now, and the boat bobbed from its anchor.
Blake was right by her side. His hand settled near her waist.
And then a bright light shone down on them, blinding Samantha.
“Finally, Samantha. I was starting to lose Hope.” Cameron’s mocking voice drifted to her.
Hope. She knew his word choice was deliberate, a reference to her case in Florida. He’d just confirmed what she’d suspected—the bastard had gotten the idea of using his boat from her investigation down there.
“Though I have to say, you two are both phenomenal swimmers,” Cameron praised. “Great form. Made it look so easy.” That light didn’t waver. “But I bet you’re feeling a little winded, hmm? You must be. The waves are getting rougher. A storm is coming.”
“Where is the woman, Cameron?” Samantha shouted up at him.
“We’ll get to her.” The light kept shining on them. Blinding them. Another deliberate tactic to put them at a disadvantage. “I want you to both throw your weapons into the water. And don’t think of bullshitting me by saying you didn’t bring knives and guns with you. I hate it when people insult my intelligence.”
She locked her jaw. Didn’t move. Blake’s hand was still at her back.
“Fine,” Cameron called out. “If that’s the way you want to play it—”
A woman’s pain-filled scream cut through the night.
Samantha grabbed for the ladder, ready to rush up the side of the boat.
“Stop, Samantha!” Cameron snarled.
She stilled.
The woman wasn’t screaming now, but she was crying. Desperate, heaving sobs.
“I just turned the blade in her side. She’s still quite alive. But if you don’t follow my instructions, then I will keep hurting her.”
Samantha looked back at Blake.
“Lift the weapons up in the light so that I can see them,” Cameron ordered, sounding impatient now. “Then throw them into the waves.”
Samantha lifted her gun and the knife she’d strapped to her ankle. “Satisfied?” She threw them. They hit the water with a plop and sank beneath the surface.
“It’s the hero’s turn,” Cameron said.
Blake’s hand slid away from Samantha’s back. He lifted up a gun and a knife—and he tossed them.
“Now strip, Samantha.”
Shock rocked through her.
Cameron laughed. “Love, really, stop taking me for a fool. You could have other weapons hidden beneath those wet clothes. So if you’re coming on my boat, you’re stripping down. Ditch the shirt and the pants and then climb that sweet ass up here. And, Gamble, you stay down there until she’s with me. Understand?”
“I understand that you’re a fucking dead man,” Blake yelled.
“Really? How odd. I feel quite alive.”
She yanked at her shirt, fighting to get the wet material over her head. Then her hands went to the snap of her jeans. She shoved the material down, and her pants drifted away in the water. Samantha was clad in only her panties and her bra, and Blake pulled her close.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s fucking not.” And he...he pushed a blade into her right hand. Based on the weight and the size, she knew he’d given her a folding knife. Probably the one she’d seen him with dozens of times before, a paramilitary folding knife with one wickedly sharp blade. Her fingers curled tightly around the weapon as he promised, “I’ll be right behind you.”
Samantha nodded. She turned from him, being sure to keep the knife out of sight. She reached for the ladder and slowly began climbing up to the deck. Water poured down her body.
The spotlight stayed on Blake.
She reached the top of the ladder and hauled her body up. The yacht’s lights were on up there, and, breath heaving, she slowly straightened.
“Oh, Sam, all of that jogging you’ve been doing has certainly paid off. You look fucking fantastic.”
Her gaze zeroed in on Cameron. Not the Cameron she remembered, but she still would have recognized him...it was in the tilt of his head, the sly curve of his lips, the glint of his eyes, the casual pose of power as he leaned back against the steering wheel...and kept his right hand on the knife that was currently thrust inside of the woman who sat—tears streaming down her cheeks, tied hand and foot—in the captain’s chair.
Samantha pulled her gaze off Cameron and focused on the victim. “You’re going to be okay.”
But...the woman slowly shook her head. No.
Samantha kept her hands at her sides. She made sure the knife was out of sight. “We followed your instructions. Now keep your end of the deal. Let her go.”
He pulled the knife out of the woman’s side. She let out a high, keening cry.
“Samantha, you are being incredibly rude,” Cameron chided. “I mean...we’ve barely spoken in months. I just paid you a compliment. Said you looked fucking fantastic. Yet you have nothing better to say to me?”
“Yes, sorry.” She rolled back her shoulders. “I liked you better as a blond.”
He laughed. “God, I missed you!” But then his head jerked to the port side of the yacht. “Gamble is climbing up...” He’d left the spotlight positioned on the ladder. “This part is about to get really good.”
“Is this another experiment?” Samantha asked as she edged a bit closer to him.
“No, I’m done with experiments.” He hoisted the woman up beside him. Because her feet were bound, she staggered a bit. “He’s almost at the top of the ladder now...” He winced. “I hope the bastard didn’t strip. There is some shit you don’t want to see.” He put down the bloody knife...and picked up a gun. For a moment, he studied the new weapon in his hand. “Cold, aren’t they? Nothing intimate or personal about the blast of a gun, but still, it gets the job done.” He was moving toward the side of the boat. Toward Blake. He dragged the woman with him.
“No!” Samantha surged forward, putting herself between him and Blake.
Cameron frowned at her. “What are you doing?”
“You aren’t shooting him!”
He smiled at her...and then he put the gun to the woman’s head. She whimpered.
“I talked to her a bit while I waited for you to arrive. Her name is Veronica Valentine. She’s a graduate student at the university. She was working on her master’s degree in ps
ychology.” His smile widened. “I told her I could teach her so much, especially about the psychology of violence. That’s an area of particular interest to her.”
Samantha didn’t look at the victim, not again. Behind her, she could hear Blake climbing. The water was sloshing off him.
“The first thing I’ll teach her,” Cameron said, as if sharing a big secret, “is the value of life. You see, I think some lives are worth more than others. But, hey, that’s just me.” He raised his brows. “Let’s see what the true-blue guy thinks. Is her life...” He shoved the blonde to the edge of the boat. “Is her life worth more to him than yours?”
And he threw the blonde over the side of the boat.
“No!” Samantha screamed. She lunged toward him, toward the side of the boat as she heard the woman splash into the water. She looked over the edge just in time to see Blake jump off the ladder and dive into the water after the woman.
“She sank like a stone.” Cameron made his pleased humming sound. “Another thing I learned about dear Veronica. The woman can’t swim for shit.”
Samantha leaped at him again, lifting up the knife Blake had given to her—
But Cameron pointed the gun at her head. “I figured you’d have a backup. It’s just so...you.”
And he thought he knew her. He thought he knew everything about her. While she’d profiled him, he’d profiled her. But which of them was better? Which knew the real truth?
“Drop it,” Cameron ordered.
“You won’t shoot me.” Look at me. Focus on me. Don’t look at the water. Don’t worry about Blake. Look only at me.
His eyes narrowed for a moment, and then... “Oh, hell, you’re right. If you’re going to die, I swear, it will be personal. It won’t be with this damn thing.” But in a fast move, using one of his Krav Maga attacks, he struck out at her hand. Her wrist broke, a fast, hard crack, and the knife skittered across the deck.
Then he grabbed her and yanked Samantha against his chest, holding her tightly. His breath blew over her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll fix that wrist, I promise.” He actually sounded remorseful. “I swear, it wasn’t payback for you breaking my nose. I just had to get rid of that knife before you decided to be too brave.”