by Matthew Rief
My ears rang as the weapon fell to the floor. He retaliated by pulling me close and slamming a knee into my chest. I grunted and lurched back, doing my best to absorb the blow.
I threw a punch toward his face, but he weaved sideways in a blur. I was about to knock him on his ass with a slide kick when he dove on top of me. We rolled violently back into the living room, breaking the living room table in our wake and knocking the tackle box to the carpet as we jerked to a stop beside the couch.
He reached for any weapon he could and grabbed hold of a lamp’s power cord. Pulling hard on the cord, he ripped the plug free of its outlet and jolted the lamp from its stand, causing it to shatter beside us.
In a strong, quick motion, he wrapped the cord around my neck and pulled with all his strength. I gasped for air as the cord crunched against my trachea.
My vision grew blurry, and I saw stars spinning around me. He had my body pinned in an awkward position. In a last-ditch effort, I reached around me for any possible weapon I could use against him. Just as I felt my consciousness begin to fade, my left hand rummaged through the open tackle box and grabbed hold of a pair of needle-nose pliers.
Aiming the metal tip toward Buck, I slammed it into his upper chest as hard as I could. The jaws slammed deep into his flesh, causing his body to lurch in pain and his face to wince. As he growled in pain and blood flowed out from the wound, I pulled the cord off my neck, jumped to my feet, and hit him square in his big belly with a powerful front kick. He fell back into the entertainment center, his heavy frame cracking the television and shattering the stand to pieces.
He hit the floor hard and tumbled against the wall. Rolling over onto his back, he ripped the pliers from his chest with a grunt, then snatched a pointy piece of the broken television stand. I glanced down at the recliner, bent over and grabbed the sawed-off shotgun. Before he’d recovered to his feet, I had the two barrels staring at him. He froze in front of the living room window, wiping the blood from his mouth.
I didn’t say anything. Didn’t have to. My eyes met his, my expression saying more than words ever could. My rage was fuming. I saw something primal and ancient when he looked back at me. He had a primitive look of fear in his eyes, like that of a cornered wild animal. It lasted only a fraction of a second. That was all it took for me to squeeze the trigger, and for the mechanical operation to take place. The spring action of the hammer, the strike to the primer, the ignition of the gunpowder. A loud, powerful boom that shook the whole house.
A wave of lead pellets struck the center of his flabby body in an instant. Blood sprayed out from his chest, and the force knocked him off his feet, hurling him backward into the window. The glass shattered as his big frame tore out into the hot air. He flipped around, performing a full 360 before slamming hard into the flower pots and gravel driveway below.
I stepped over to the shattered window and cocked the shotgun. I was ready to fire off another shell, just in case the first one hadn’t completely wiped the life from him. I didn’t want there to be any chance of him being swept off to the nearest hospital for urgent care. I wanted the whole thing to end, right then and there.
I didn’t need to fire another shell. His body was mangled. His midsection was blown to shreds. Organs rested outside his shredded, bloodied skin. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t breathing. The deed had been done, and done without question.
I set the shotgun on the floor and turned around. Martha was crouched against the far wall. She was shaking in fear, crying like mad, and breathing heavily. She was still blindfolded and gagged.
I caught my breath, then strode over to her.
“It’s okay, Martha,” I said, speaking clearly so that she knew that it was me who’d won the fight.
I dropped down beside her and placed a hand softly on her shoulder. She jerked back instinctively.
“It’s me, Logan Dodge,” I said. I took a deep breath and added, “You don’t have to worry about him anymore, Martha. He’s gone.”
She relaxed a little, and I removed her blindfold and gag. Her eyes were wide and watery. She scanned around the room, then looked over at me.
“Is he… dead?” she said through labored breaths.
Her pulse was like a jackhammer. Probably well over a hundred beats per minute.
“Yes,” I said softly. “You’re safe now, Martha.”
THIRTY-TWO
Ange was the first one through the door. She stormed in with her Glock raised and her head on a swivel like a member of a SWAT team. She was focused and unafraid of putting her life on the line. A real warrior woman.
She relaxed a little when she made eye contact with me.
“Where’s Buck?” she said, her mind and body in attack mode.
I nodded toward the shattered window across from me. “I put him down.”
She strode across the living room and looked out through the window frame. Her eyes took in the scene for a few seconds before she turned around and headed over to me.
“Are you alright?” she said, holstering her Glock and kneeling down beside me.
“My ears will be ringing for a few days,” I said. “And I’m sure Buck added a few scars to my collection, but I’m fine.”
She placed one hand over my shoulder and the other around Martha.
“Martha, are you okay?” she said.
Martha nodded, her body still shaking. She’d been through a lot, and I knew that it would take a long time for her to get over it. If she ever did.
Ange kissed my forehead and tightened her grasp on me.
Jack entered next, followed right behind by Pete, Jane, and a handful of other officers.
The place quickly turned into a madhouse, with officers, detectives, and EMTs all over the place. There was a lot of work to do. A guy was lying dead and mutilated in a well-populated housing complex. They quickly taped off the crime scene to keep locals away. People all over the island had heard the three gunshots. A large group of them had gathered around to see what all the fuss was about. Their peaceful slice of island paradise had been disturbed, and they wanted to know the whos and whys.
Fortunately, we had an excuse to get out of there promptly. Though I wasn’t seriously injured, Jane and Ange insisted I go to the hospital. I was faced with either sitting there and answering question after question or lying up in a hospital bed. I chose the lesser of the two evils, and Ange drove me down to the Lower Keys Medical Center with Jack and Pete in the backseat. I knew that I was only delaying the inevitable, that the hours and hours of questioning would come and find me no matter what.
After a few hours at the hospital, my primary physician, Dr. Patel, gave me the all clear. He said I’d be fine, that the ringing would go away in a day or two and that I was lucky I hadn’t ruptured an eardrum. He seemed more concerned with the dog wounds I’d sustained the previous day to my chest and shoulder. A few of the cuts across my chest had opened up, so he sanitized the wounds and restitched them.
Once done at the hospital, we headed over to the police station to meet with Jane and a few detectives. I told them all about how Buck Harlan had given me a message to meet him at that house alone. It was a long couple of hours of questions, but Jane did her best to get me out of there. A serial killer had been killed and no one had been injured. It was a win all the way around, as good of an outcome as could’ve been expected.
That evening we cruised downtown to Sloppy Joes to meet up with Jack, Pete, Cal, and a few other local friends. We ate piles of delicious seafood while washing it all down with beer and cocktails. Even Billy managed to make it down to our island paradise for the evening and our group told stories and celebrated while enjoying some of the best food around.
I stepped out for a few minutes when I got a phone call from Scott, who expressed his disappointment that I’d taken down the bad guys before he’d been able to get away from his responsibilities and fly down there.
”Maybe next time I’ll make it down there,” he said. “Can’t let you have all th
e fun, chief.”
I laughed. “Next time? Don’t think I’ll be taking on any more serial killers anytime soon.”
“Doesn’t have to be serial killers,” he replied. “Could be drug kingpins, gangsters, corrupt businessmen. It’s just a matter of time with you, Logan.”
We talked for a few more minutes, then I rejoined the group and filled my stomach even more. After dinner, I felt tired and decided to call it an early night.
Ange and I sat out in our backyard and relaxed while watching the sunset. We lay on the hammock together, watching the vibrant colors shift across the sky while I tired out Atticus with a tennis ball.
As the sunset sky was at its zenith, Ange turned to me and smiled. I had my arm around her and she had a bare leg draped over me.
“It was a good thing you did today, Logan,” she said. “Helping Martha and going after that killer.”
“You would’ve done the exact same thing if you’d been in my place,” I told her.
She nodded. “Yeah. But I wasn’t in your place. You were the one who stepped up, who put yourself in danger to face that guy one on one.” She locked her blue eyes on to mine. “I know none of this will bring back the Shepherds, but I also know that they’d both be damn proud of what you’ve done. And South Florida can feel safer now knowing that those guys are gone. Who knows how many others would be dead in the future if it wasn’t for you?”
“If it wasn’t for us, you mean,” I said. “You’re forgetting that you’re the one who took out that brother on their island. None of this would have happened without you, Ange.”
She smiled and laid her head on my chest.
“How is it possible that I fall more in love with you every day?” she said.
I kissed her forehead. “I was about to ask the same question.”
We fell asleep right there on the hammock as the sky shifted to darkness. Ange was intoxicating. Her smell, the sound of her voice, the feel of her skin against mine. I’d made a lot of mistakes in my life, but she was living proof that I was capable of making good decisions at least every now and then. Marrying her was the best thing I’d ever done.
Over the next couple of weeks, things gradually returned to normal. We’d been away on our honeymoon for three months and had been swept up into a deadly conflict the day we’d gotten back. Now we were settling in, getting back into our normal island life routine. Our days were filled with trips out exploring the islands, scuba diving, and freediving for lobster. As my injuries healed, I worked my way back into my daily workout routine. Running, swimming, high-speed interval training, and sessions on the heavy bag.
In mid-September, we motored up to Tavernier for the Lionfish Derby and Festival. A few locals had conjured the idea of the friendly competition in order to help rid the islands of the invasive species that was having a strong negative effect on the marine ecosystem. There are few activities that can top spearfishing and helping the environment at the same time. And the colorful fish tastes good too, so long as you can fillet it without getting poked by its venomous, razor-sharp spines.
On the boat ride back to Key West, I throttled the Baia up to her cruising speed of forty knots. Jack was playing with Atticus on the sunbed behind me. Ange was sprawled out on the bow, her lean, tanned body looking like it belonged on the cover of the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition.
I leaned back into the cushioned seat, held on to the wheel with one hand and eased the throttles forward with the other. I took a bite of the savory grilled lionfish, then washed it down with a few swigs of chilled Paradise Sunset beer. The water glistened around us in the late-afternoon sun, and the warm breeze rushed through my hair. I smiled and nodded. All was well in paradise once more.
THE END
Logan Dodge Adventures
Gold in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 1)
Hunted in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 2)
Revenge in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 3)
Betrayed in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 4)
Redemption in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 5)
Corruption in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 6)
Predator in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 7)
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About the Author
Matthew has a deep-rooted love for adventure and the ocean. He loves traveling, diving, rock climbing and writing adventure novels. Though he grew up in the Pacific Northwest, he currently lives in Virginia Beach with his wife, Jenny.