Bermuda Nights - The Boxed Set
Page 25
I pitied the man who tried to get through those two.
Sven stopped, his brow creasing. “What is this?”
Evan’s voice was calm, cool, and dead serious. He said two words.
“Jim Raynor.”
And then all Hell broke loose.
Chapter 11
It was as if ten large-screen TVs had just sprung to life around me, each showing the climactic scene of a different movie, and my mind tried to track each scene in slow motion. Maybe it was the adrenaline which blasted through my body. Maybe it was the heightened awareness that death could be a blink away. Whatever it was, the sensation was like nothing I had ever felt before.
At Evan’s phrase, from behind me came the smash of the main door being flung open and the rush of heavy footsteps, accompanied by shouts of “Police! Freeze!” At the same time, the three other patrons of the bar chimed in with echoing calls from my right. Mickey grabbed up a baseball bat from behind his counter, his face set in a scowl.
But all of that was peripheral to the movement immediately before me.
Kamran’s hand flashed to behind his waist and came out with a matte black handgun. Sven leapt onto the booth’s table, staring down at Evan with absolute rage. Tom and Hank tumbled out from their side of the booth, their blazing gazes locked on Brandon.
The gun raised …
Evan whipped his body around in a spinning kick, knocking the gun to sail across the room. Sven leapt from the table at Evan, and Evan grabbed Sven by the shoulders, whipping Sven’s body up and over so they both slammed, back-down, into the floor with a force which shook the room. Kamran aimed a stomp at Evan’s kneecap, and Evan swept his leg, kicking out Kamran’s supporting leg and sending him to the floor.
Hank’s wiry arm drove a fist toward Brandon’s head. Brandon brought his right arm up, deflecting the fist across and down, turning Hank. Then Brandon followed up with his left, slamming it hard into Hank’s back. Hank dropped to his knees. Tom drilled a beefy right cross into Brandon’s stomach, and Brandon groaned, rocking back.
A familiar, musical voice sounded in my ear. “Selamat pagi, Amanda and Kayla. Let’s step back.”
I glanced around in surprise. Haziq was smiling in delight, an official badge of some sort hanging around his neck. I shook myself loose of the shock I’d been frozen in and moved back with him to the wall of eight or so police who stood watching the maelstrom with guns at the ready.
I drew my gaze back to the whirling chaos before me. “Aren’t you going to go help them?”
He coughed in stunned amazement. “You’re joking, right?”
Sven had grabbed a wooden chair and was swinging it down hard onto Evan’s back. Evan dove beneath the table we’d been sitting at, letting it take most of the force, then drove his heel hard into Hank’s shin. Hank’s scream shook the walls, and he collapsed on the floor, writhing in pain.
Brandon turned on Tom, whose bald head and dark tattoos glistened in the dim light. Tom growled in anger, then charged Brandon like a bull, driving him hard into the bar. Brandon’s breath blew out of him with the impact. Behind him, Mickey raised his bat in the air, and I had no idea which of the two he was aiming at.
Evan rolled to his feet, grabbed up the brick-sized metal napkin dispenser from the table, and whipped it at Mickey’s forehead. The sound of the impact rang out in the room, and Mickey dropped like a log.
Sven’s fist slammed into the side of Evan’s head, and he rocked back. Evan stepped toward Sven, turned so his back was to him, grabbed his arm, and rotated. Using his own hip as leverage, Evan pulled Sven off the ground and slammed him to the floor, landing on top of him.
Brandon put his hands on either side of the bar behind him, pressing up so he popped up to sit on the counter. He brought his knees in and up, then shot them out on either side of Tom’s thick neck. He crossed his ankles to seal the head lock, then pushed off with his arms, sending them both sailing to the ground, Brandon landing hard on top of Tom’s chest.
Evan was sitting astride Sven’s chest, his fist slamming repeatedly into the side of Sven’s head. Sven bucked hard, rolling over onto his stomach, then scrambling in an attempt to get free. Evan spun so he was sitting on Sven’s spine, facing his feet, one arm around each of Sven’s legs. Evan let the legs slide until each of Sven’s ankles was firmly locked into his armpit. Then he pressed up into a squat, leaning back. Sven’s body was now forming a reverse letter C, locked in the aptly named Boston Crab hold.
Tom was on his back, his forehead pressed into Brandon’s belt buckle. Tom’s hands pulled with all their might on Brandon’s thighs, but Brandon only cinched them tighter, sitting steadily on Tom’s chest.
Hank groaned in pain, holding his shin, his hair falling over his face like a greasy brown curtain.
And Kamran …
I turned – and my mouth dropped open in horror. Kamran was scrambling toward the far corner and the gun which lay abandoned on the grime-streaked floor.
His fingers closed around the grip.
My voice rose in a desperate call. “Evan!”
Kamran spun to a crouch, careful to keep Evan and Brandon between him and the wall of cops who were shouting at him to drop the gun.
Evan released Sven’s feet; the man collapsed to the ground without a sound. Evan put his hands out to the side in a placating gesture. “No one has to die here, Kamran. Put the gun down.”
Kamran’s eyes blazed with fury. “You bastards screwed everything up! And I’d finally hit the motherload! You’re going to pay!”
Tom had gone unconscious in Brandon’s choke-hold, and Brandon pressed to his feet, his back against the bar. His arm went up on the counter, sliding toward the area with the lemons and limes.
Evan took a step to his right, shielding Brandon’s movements with his body. He raised his hands higher. “It’s over, Kamran. It’s all over. Time to face the music.”
Kamran raised the gun. His shark teeth gleamed. “You’re the one who’s going to face your maker.”
Brandon’s voice was low and steady. “Now.”
Evan dropped to one knee, and Brandon whipped a long, gleaming-edged knife across the empty space. It drove deep into Kamran’s neck. The gun fell from Kamran’s hand as he clutched at his throat desperately, his fingers trying to hold back the spurts of blood. Then he fell to his knees. Another second, his eyes closed, and he timbered over onto one side.
A heartbeat … two … and then I raced across the space. Evan was on his feet to receive me in a hard embrace, drawing me in with rock-steady arms. He smelled of musk and I soaked him in, laughing and crying all at once. Around me I could hear the movements of the cops, feel the bustle as they gathered up the detritus of the battle, but it barely touched me.
It was all over. Evan was mine.
Chapter 12
The foliage along the Charles River was in full autumnal splendor, with deep crimsons vying with brilliant tangerine. I twined my fingers into Evan’s, breathing in the crisp air. This is what I loved most about Boston. This season, this multicolored tapestry, the sense that nature had shared this beauty with admirers for as far back as anybody could remember.
Evan looked down at me with a smile. “So Kayla’s doing all right?”
I nodded. “The D. A. assigned her to do work with the local recovery center, talking with other addicts about what she’s gone through. It supports her cover story, that she was almost prosecuted but let go due to lack of real evidence. And it’s helping her a lot, too.”
“It’s a hard thing, to kick heroin. I’m glad she has support.”
“It’s been a long time coming,” I murmured. “I had no idea that any of this was going on. I suppose this cruise was good, in a way. It got her burden out in the open so she could be helped.”
We were passing in front of the Hatch Shell now. I stopped, looking out over the river. I had watched numerous fireworks displays from this vantage spot. While I had always appreciated their beauty, the natural show that autu
mn was putting on for me now was far more moving.
Evan wrapped an arm around my waist. “And you. How are you doing?”
I leant my head against his chest. “I’m really enjoying the volunteer work I’ve been doing at the women’s shelter. So many women end up in there because of drugs. Either they use to escape from an abusive partner, or their drug usage drags them down a path they never would have followed otherwise. We have far more women than we can help, with the funds they have right now. And it seems that more show up on our doorstep each week.”
He nodded, his eyes somber. “It’s a sad statement on our society, that we have such overwhelming need for these services.”
I bit at my lip for a moment, then turned up to him. “They’ve made me an offer.”
He stilled, his eyes on me. “What kind of an offer?”
“They want me come and be their financial manager. They’ve seen already the kind of ideas I’ve come up with, and they have faith that, if I joined them, I could help them do so much more.”
His gaze was steady, supportive. “Is this what you want to do?”
“It would mean a cut in pay, but I know I’d be so much happier. Where I am now, I’m pushing beans around. I’m adding and subtracting tokens in corporate buckets. But there –” I could feel my heart swell. “There I’d be making a real difference.”
He smiled. “Then do it.”
My brow creased. “Are you sure? You seem quite fond of my apartment on the Charles. I’d probably have to move, to something smaller, something –”
He drew me in closer. “Does that really matter to you?”
I shook my head. “If we are together, then I don’t care if we’re in a one-room studio and sleeping on a futon.”
He ran a hand through my hair. “My detective’s salary isn’t quite that bad,” he murmured. “I think we might be able to afford a proper king-sized bed.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “King-sized? And just why would we need a bed that large?”
His grin spread, and I knew that look in his eyes. “Let me take you home and show you.”
Thank you so much for sharing in Amanda and Evan’s story!
The next series being released is Italian Nights, which follows Brandon as he explores Italy and the Mediterranean Sea.
http://opheliasikes.com/ItalianNights/
If you enjoyed this story, please leave a review on Amazon and GoodReads. The more readers we can get to join our community, the more we can help the cause.
Dedication
To Ruth, who believes steadfastly in my dreams and helps them shine.
To Toni, who helps the stories become the very best they can.
To George and Bob for their encouragement.
To Sandra, whose amazing editing talents help each book reach its potential. https://www.facebook.com/sandrabaublitzediting
And, most of all, to all the loyal fans of this series. It is your encouragements and comments which keep me writing.
Together we can make a difference!
About the Author
Ophelia Sikes fervently believes that every one of us deserves dedicated, passionate love in our lives – coupled with a soul-deep respect which supports our dreams.
Ophelia has lived within an hour’s drive of Boston for nearly all of her college and adult life. For many years she worked in Cambridge, commuting in and out through Boston’s trains and subways each day. Numerous delightful evenings were spent at Boston bars, restaurants, and museums. Even though she now works from home, she still gets into Boston as often as she can, to enjoy the countless gorgeous offerings that this historic city presents.
Ophelia’s been on the Boston to Bermuda cruise ship run three times, and highly recommends the adventure!
Half of the proceeds of this book’s sales benefit battered women’s shelters.
Please send along as much feedback and suggestions as you can. The more we can polish these worlds and characters, the more we can help the cause.
Ophelia Sikes can be found at:
http://OpheliaSikes.com
https://www.facebook.com/opheliasikes
https://twitter.com/opheliasikes
https://www.goodreads.com/OpheliaSikes
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Books in the Worcester Nights series:
Book 1 - Dwell in Possibility
http://OpheliaSikes.com/WorcesterNights/dwellinpossibility/
Book 2 – A Soul Ajar
http://OpheliaSikes.com/WorcesterNights/asoulajar/
Book 3 – A Song of Soul and Hope
http://OpheliaSikes.com/WorcesterNights/asongofsoulandhope/
Book 4 – Stop One Heart from Breaking
http://OpheliaSikes.com/WorcesterNights/stoponeheartfrombreaking/
Boxed Set of Books 1-4
http://OpheliaSikes.com/WorcesterNights/
Books in the Bermuda Nights series:
Book 1 – Resonating Souls
http://OpheliaSikes.com/BermudaNights/resonatingsouls/
Book 2 – Wine-Dark Dreams
http://OpheliaSikes.com/BermudaNights/winedarkdreams/
Book 3 – The Soulless Abyss
http://OpheliaSikes.com/BermudaNights/thesoullessabyss/
Book 4 – Wanting All
http://OpheliaSikes.com/BermudaNights/wantingall/
Boxed Set of Books 1-4
http://OpheliaSikes.com/BermudaNights/
Books in the Italian Nights series.
Book 1 – Love’s Heat
http://OpheliaSikes.com/ItalianNights/lovesheat
Table of Contents
Book 1: Resonating Souls
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Book 2: Wine-Dark Dreams
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Book 3: The Soulless Abyss
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Book 4: Wanting All
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12