by April Hunt
“Stone can’t get them out of here on his own. He’s damaged fucking goods.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” Stone grumbled.
Without taking his eyes off Charlie’s murderous gaze, Vince pushed a finger into his boss’s bullet-torn shoulder, making the man howl out a few profanities. Thankfully, following the groan came a low chuckle. “Point fucking made. Asshole.”
“See.” Vince didn’t blink. “Helpless as a kitten. How’s he going to aim his fucking gun when that’s his shooting shoulder? Someone needs to help him get these girls out, and honey, it’s going to be you.”
Charlie looked like she wanted to argue, but she glanced at Stone, then at the girls cowering behind her. “Fine,” she said, her voice strained. “But I swear to God, Navy, if you—”
“I’m not letting anything happen to anybody.”
“What do you have going on up there, Rafe?” Stone asked.
“We’ve rounded up all of Anthony’s men, but we’re minus the man himself. And we’ve got a ride inbound on the starboard side.”
“Copy. Coming up with the precious cargo. Leave one as guard and fan out to look for Anthony and the last hostage. Remember, our ultimate goal is the hostage, so if you come across the Franconi girl first, the mission ends. We’ll let the law enforcement worry about Anthony.”
“Will do, boss.”
Vince slipped his hand into Charlie’s hair, pulling her close. His mouth brushed against hers, wrestling her attention away from Stone. “You need to be up there when the Coast Guard shows up, English.”
Charlie swallowed, forcing down a large lump. “Please be careful. I need someone’s ass to kick in training, and I can’t do that if you get yourself killed. I mean, I could kick someone else’s, but it’s not as fun.”
He chuckled at her attempt to lighten the mood. “There’s nothing I like more than getting my ass handed to me by the woman I love. You can kick it anytime, babe.”
He reined her in for a quick, hard kiss, and released her with a firm swat on the ass. Before she could retaliate, he jogged off toward the stairs, looking back when he took the first step.
Charlie’s gaze stayed on him, fierce and worried—and shocked. It wasn’t until Vince hit the open air that he realized what he’d admitted aloud—and so fucking easily.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Charlie froze for a split second after registering Vince’s mutter. No, it wasn’t a mutter, or a murmur, or an indecipherable mumble or auditory hallucination. He’d said it loud and clear and, judging by Stone’s face, for all the world—at least their team—to hear.
She didn’t bother fighting the smile that slid to her face, because the more she tried, the larger it grew.
Stone attempted to look stern, but failed. “You know the three of us are going to have to have a sit-down, right? There’s going to have to be some ground rules.”
“Why? Just because he finds me irresistible doesn’t mean the feeling’s mutual,” Charlie managed to say with a straight face, making her boss snort-laugh.
“Please. You two have been dancing around each other for a fucking year. Everyone put their money into a pool to see how long it took.” He looked contemplative for a second. “And I think I won.”
“Do you think Vince and I can talk about it first before we get the birds-and-the-bees talk from Dad?” Charlie half-teased.
Stone outright laughed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Charlie kept her gun hand free and at the ready, and tucked her other shoulder beneath Stone’s arm. He wavered slightly, his legs buckling. One of the rescued girls came up to his other side and wrapped an arm behind his waist.
“Jesus Christ,” Stone grumbled, looking woozy, “it’s just a shoulder hit.”
“Which may have hit something pretty damn important, judging by the blood pouring out of you. Think blood-slowing thoughts,” Charlie joked.
They made slow but steady progress. By the time they reached the deck, Chase had finished securing the mooring line from the Coast Guard boat to the Leslie. An officer met them at the edge, easing their twelve abductees safely into the other vessel.
“What’s up with the shoulder, boss man?” Chase asked.
“Dodged when I should’ve weaved,” Stone answered. “I’ll live. You can take a look at it later.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “The level of machismo you guys ooze sometimes astonishes me.”
“You’d get bored if we didn’t.” Chase grinned before getting to business. “Rafe shut down the engines so the Coast Guard could board, and Logan’s helping them get our friends nice and comfy before their trip to jail. Once we’re all loaded, they’ll take us back to the mainland and deal with bringing the freighter back themselves.”
Stone nodded. “Good. Did you tell them we have a runner?”
“Logan told them. One of the emergency rafts is missing. Torres may have hightailed it off this floating heap before we even showed up. They’ve already put out a search.” Chase gave Charlie’s arm a supportive squeeze. “Don’t worry, Charlie. He couldn’t have gone far. Those things are in serious need of upgrades. We’re not giving up a damn thing until we find your cousin.”
Charlie nodded, not trusting herself to speak. If someone would’ve told her a month ago she’d be worrying her stomach into knots over Tina, she would’ve laughed in their face.
Yet here she was, worrying not only about Tina, but for the man she’d fallen in love with.
* * *
Vince made one last pass around the deck, his frustration growing by the second. A missing raft. A missing Anthony. None of it sat well with him. The older Torres didn’t strike him as a stupid man. No way could one of those outdated dinghies outmaneuver a fucking billion-ton ship. But Vince was running out of places to look.
As he passed a stacked row of shipping crates, something toppled over. Vince slowed his steps, but didn’t stop, not wanting to draw attention to himself as he carefully withdrew his gun. The noise came again, fainter, but followed by the sound of a muffled struggle.
To the left and behind a pillar of crates.
Vince whipped around, gun pointed. “I know you’re fucking there, Torres. Come out before I decide it’s in my best interest to start shooting now.”
He waited—and then started counting. “Three. Two.”
Footsteps shuffled—and then there was Anthony Torres, looking like the smug bastard he was, a gun pressed against Tina’s temple. “We both know you’re not going to start spraying the place with bullets, Vince. Not at the risk of hurting Tina.”
Anthony jostled Charlie’s cousin, making her suck in a whimper. Clothes a little tattered and sporting a black eye, she didn’t look too bad for having spent the last few hours with a psycho.
Vince kept his gun aimed at Torres. “Doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you go scot-free either.”
“What is it with people not minding their own damn business?” Anthony seethed, spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth. “This shit has nothing to do with any of you.”
Vince stayed alert. “When assholes like you believe they can rule the fucking world, it becomes our business. Newsflash, Torres, but you can’t.”
“Who’s going to stop me? A bunch of G.I. Joe wannabes? I don’t fucking think so.”
“Thinking isn’t your strong suit, or else you wouldn’t have even tried pulling something like this off in the first place. Come on. We both know you’re not getting out of here, so you may as well drop the gun and take your punishment like a man.”
There was a reason why Vince wasn’t the Alpha negotiator. He’d sooner shoot the bastard in the head than try and talk things through, but he couldn’t risk the man reflexively squeezing the trigger.
“I’m not dropping this gun. And I’m sure as hell not going to be punished…because I’m not going to be caught,” Anthony snarled.
“Seriously? What the hell have you been smoking? We’ve got all your men. We’ve got your hosta
ges. You’re standing in front of me holding a fucking gun. How the hell do you think you’re going to be getting away with any of it?”
“I want Charlie here. Now. Standing in front of me.”
Vince was steadily losing his patience. “That’s not going to fucking happen.”
“Then she dies.” Anthony cocked the trigger of his gun. “Call her. On your radio. When I see her—alone—and that fucking Coast Guard ship pulls away, I’ll let Tina go.”
“And I’m supposed to just take you at your word? Because you’re so fucking trustworthy?”
“You can trust the fact that, unless I see Charlotte in front of me in one minute or less, this deck’s going to need a good swabbing. You used to be a Navy boy, right? Hope you still have the knack for it, Franklin. Call Charlotte. Get her here. Alone. Unarmed. And send the ship away with everyone else on it. Now.”
Vince considered every logistical avenue but kept coming to the same place—he needed to do what Anthony said and then pray he and Charlie could goad him into making a mistake.
Vince gritted his teeth and tapped his ear, mimicking turning on his earpiece. “Navy to Sparks.”
“I heard. All of it.” Charlie’s voice, strained, answered immediately. “Recite his demands so he doesn’t know we heard him.”
Vince swallowed rising bile, wanting to tell her to get on the Coast Guard boat and leave. “I need you port side. Alone. Unarmed. And send the Coast Guard ship away with everyone on it.”
Vince heard the chorus of curses from his fellow teammates as they debated how best to attack the situation. Any of his brothers would have his back, and risk their own ass for his, but the more people who involved themselves this time around, the greater the odds things went FUBAR. Fucked Up Beyond All Repair.
And that is definitely not what they needed right now.
“Enough!” Charlie’s roar brought the loud debates to a faint grumble. “I’m going alone, just like Anthony wants. Do what he says and get everyone off the boat.”
“And how the hell are you two going to get off the boat?” Stone asked.
“We don’t have a choice. He’s holding all the cards right now. If he didn’t, Vince wouldn’t be making the demand.”
God, Vince wanted to kiss that woman. Hard. Frequently. Hell, once he kissed her, he didn’t think he’d stop.
* * *
Charlie didn’t think twice about facing off with Anthony, not with Vince’s safety on the line, and ironically, she realized that was exactly what he’d done when he’d had Logan look into her past. Different circumstances, same motivation.
Charlie handed Stone her back-up gun and thigh-knife, but it wasn’t until she handed him Gregor that she felt naked.
“Be careful,” Stone ordered gruffly. “I mean it, Charlie. Watch your ass, or I’ll have you doing bathroom duty for an entire fucking month—and that includes Logan’s bathroom.”
Her lips twitched at his unusual show of affection. “Careful, boss. You’re going to have us thinking that you have a sense of humor. You guys should get going. I don’t want to give Anthony a reason to do anything stupid.”
“You heard the lady.” Stone gestured to the rescue boat. “Everyone on board.”
All the guys came up, almost like a greeting line, as they offered their support with a quick, “Alpha up,” and boarded the Coast Guard ship.
Once they’d loaded, she tossed the mooring line overboard and watched a few seconds until the Coast Guard boat pulled away. And then instead of cutting through the width of the ship, she jogged the perimeter of the deck, where she could strategically plan her grand entrance. At the final corner, she cracked her neck and lifted her shoulders, even trying out Vince’s tai chi breathing technique.
It worked right up until she stepped out into the open.
Anthony faced an unarmed Vince, Tina trapped between them and held immobile by the gun pressed against her head.
“I’m here like you wanted, Anthony.” She lifted her hands, showing him she’d done as told and came empty-handed. “The Coast Guard and everyone else are gone. It’s just the four of us.”
He glanced at something in his hand. She realized he held a small video screen.
“You have this entire ship under surveillance?”
“Of course I do,” Anthony spat. “Unlike your uncle, I like to move with the times, not go in reverse.”
“Is that why you want to take over?” Charlie briefly caught Vince’s eye.
He cocked his head, directing her to sidestep to the right. Making her movements small, she shifted a centimeter at a time. The more distance she put between her and Vince, the more difficult it was for Anthony to keep tabs on them both.
“I’m taking over because I fucking deserve it,” Anthony growled. “I’ve worked for that man almost half my life. I’ve dirtied my hands so he can keep his clean. I’ve been a loyal friend and employee. I’ve put more blood and sweat into this business than he has, and he thinks he’s going to get rid of it all? I don’t think so.”
Charlie took another half-step to the side. “Then why not take it? Why drag everything out. Why implicate Brock by targeting those last few girls?”
“Because my son’s not as good an actor as he thinks he is. I never believed he’d had a sudden attack of family loyalty. I knew he was looking for proof I was behind what happened, and I wanted to see how far he’d go to get it.”
Anthony’s smile made Charlie’s stomach roll. “Proof of what? That you’re psychotic? I think we have it already.”
Anthony let out a laugh that chilled Charlie to the bone. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you? Brock did, or at least, he suspected, which is why he suddenly had a desire to take part in the family business after your abduction.”
Charlie had never needed Vince’s meditative skills as much as she did at that moment.
“You were never supposed to be found in that fucking crate twelve years ago,” Anthony continued. “You were supposed to get shipped out with all those other whores, never to be seen again. And most importantly, never to get in my fucking hair.”
Charlie’s blood went cold at what he’d just admitted. “You did that? You were behind the abduction too? What? Killing my mother and aunt wasn’t enough for you?”
“Not when you started digging into the accident…I couldn’t risk the chance you’d find something and take it to Arturo. I had to do it to save my own fucking ass.”
“And when they found me?”
“My mistake for thinking you’d been scared enough to fucking drop it. And here you come back, twelve years later. You should’ve stayed the fuck gone, Charlie. All of this”—Anthony gestured to an eerily silent Tina—“is on you.”
In direct contrast to his words, Anthony released his grip on Tina, and Charlie’s cousin dropped to her knees. Whimpering, she frantically scrambled toward Charlie.
Charlie helped her to her feet, never once taking her eyes off the gun Anthony still aimed at Vince. “Go. Run to the other side of the boat and go down on one of the rafts.”
“But—”
“Now,” she demanded more harshly than she intended.
Tina surprised Charlie with a tight hug. “Please be careful.”
Charlie fought back tears for the second time that day. Hell, it might have been the third. But she returned Tina’s embrace, realizing a little slowly that her cousin slipped something into the back of her pants. It was too small to be a gun, but cool against her skin.
A knife.
Charlie didn’t know how she’d gotten it, but she wasn’t going to refuse it either. Swallowing a forming lump of emotion, she gently ordered, “Get on the raft and head toward the rescue boat.”
Time dragged as Tina left the three of them standing on the deck of the freighter.
“She’s in the water,” Stone announced in their ear a few minutes later.
Good. Now with Tina safe, it was time to end this fiasco.
Charlie angled sideways, giving
Vince a brief glance of Tina’s gift before turning toward Anthony.
“You know there’s nowhere to go,” she announced. “It’s over. Even if you manage to overpower us, you’re not going to overpower an entire Coast Guard crew.”
“I know.” Anthony nodded. “And I’m sorry I have to take you with me, Charlie. I really am. But first we need to get rid of the extra baggage.”
Anthony’s trigger finger flexed, the gun still aimed toward Vince’s chest.
Charlie ripped the knife from the small of her back and threw—hard. Hours of practice and maiming poor Scooter in the Alpha gym paid off, the blade finding its mark in Anthony’s extended arm.
He screamed, pulling the knife from his forearm, and charged at Charlie. Vince lunged forward just as a red dot flickered on Anthony’s chest. A shot rang out, and a split second later, her uncle’s second-in-command dropped at her feet.
Shouts erupted in her head, and then slowly melted away…along with everything else, including her ability to breathe. Charlie fought against a wave of dizziness.
“Breathe, babe.” Vince cupped her cheeks, pulling her close and up to his gaze.
“What the hell just happened?” Adrenaline still rushed through her veins, threatening to pound her heart straight out of her chest. Charlie let herself be tugged into Vince’s arms because damn it if her legs didn’t get a little wobbly.
“You’re welcome, darlin’!” a familiar voice called out.
Hovering about fifty feet off the freighter’s port side, Logan drifted on a commandeered speedboat. Having their attention, he waved and spoke into the comm-link. “Can’t say I don’t have good aim…even on the fucking water.”
“That was a pretty sweet shot,” Vince agreed with a chuckle.
“I didn’t do it for you, asshole. I wanted to get back in Charlie’s good graces.”
The abrupt shift to teasing had Charlie shaking her head. “Consider yourself on my good side for life, Callahan. And as for you”—she turned toward Vince—“no more of this going solo shite. My heart can’t take it, okay?”