Into the Flames (Perilous Connections: Book Two)

by Delka Beazer

  Nate

  I try to block out the man sitting next to me, a feat in itself as the seating capacity of the bus, barely four feet across doesn’t allow much wiggle room for one of my size. Couple this with the fact that I am crammed into a seat with three other adults and I am in misery.

  To take my mind off this I study Aubrey’s face. His soft brown cheeks still have the sheen of a baby’s, delicate and round and with a pang I am reminded of Caitlin and Stephanie, my two teenaged sisters back home in Loveland Colorado.

  After I came mom had gone ten years without another child, so they’d adopted a baby girl from Ethiopia. Six months later she’d found out that she was pregnant with Caitlin. So the two were practically twins, devilish, smart-mouthed ones at that. An image of my bed filled with dirt-covered earthworms, courtesy of Stephanie, causes an unbearable ache to surface inside me. My hand tightens about Aubrey, who bless the little man, can sleep through anything apparently.

  I miss those girls something awful. They would be eighteen and sixteen now and I have been gone for their last five birthdays. Five long years. Long enough for them to believe whatever my father told them about the black sheep of the family.

  My lips thin with regret. Most of which was true. The old man would have a heart attack if he found out that I’d long since topped those boyish escapades. I pray to God that he never does. Emmanuel doing me in would be far better than facing my father’s wrath or punches for that matter.

  I try to shift and give up immediately as I sense a baleful glare burning holes in my arm. I turn slowly and my eyes lock with brown angry ones belonging to a dreadlocked dude, sitting one person over from me and who looks like he wants to punch me in the face. I flash a grin at him, but he just scowls and makes a hissing sound through his teeth. He gives me a warning glance before turning away. I shrug, so both he and Daphne hated my smile. But I could take him easily if he decided to go beyond stares. Abruptly the thought fills me with shame. Those days of getting into nonsensical fights are long gone for me. I fight now only to stay alive. I grimace as I rub my knuckles and feel the lessening sting. Emmanuel was the first person I’d hit in over a year.

  Just how had Emmanuel traced me so soon from the hotel? I was sure that I had managed to evade him because he’d arrived at Sunset Cove on the same day that I’d left. Had it been Stacy who’d pointed him in my general direction?

  But she didn’t know where I’d gone, having left several days before I snuck out of Sunset Cove.

  But if Emmanuel had found her and gotten even that information from her, I have no doubt that she’d paid dearly for knowledge she’d carried … the same thing would’ve happened to Daphne. I close my eyes as I picture for the hundredth time her naked silhouette cringing against the window, Emmanuel’s arm raised to strike her.

  If he’d been able to hurt her I don’t know what I would’ve done to him. Would I have morphed back into that conscienceless animal I’d become these last years when I’d had to take on the traits of the men I did business with to survive? I shove the thought aside, unable to look back into that mirror.

  I focus on the landscape rolling by outside the bus. Rolling pastures dotted with cows, small houses, some beautiful, some broken relics, all fly by as we head toward the town’s center.

  The pier is only a short walk away. I’ve been there before on one of those silly tourist tours. I turn without warning and I catch Daphne watching me, she quickly looks away but not before I see the anger and desire in her eyes.

  I swallow a groan. I want her something awful but that is impossible now.

  For both of us.

  Daphne will come to realize that the man she’d been forced to marry was once a former drug smuggling colleague of the same man who’d held a knife to her face.

  On the way to the pier less than half an hour later we manage to hit a flock of mostly young, energetic tourists who are also headed to the ferry. I scan the crowd swiftly, keeping my face expressionless. No sign of Emmanuel.

  It won’t take him long to come around and promptly come after us. Broken wrist be damned. I can only hope that he goes to the airport first.

  A young and very attractive blond in tiny shorts catches my eye. She smiles impishly at me.

  I pretend to be just as carefree and I smile wickedly back, letting my eyes lighten as they tend to do whenever I‘m turned on or just concocting some way to screw somebody over.

  She tosses thick golden hair over her shoulders, and swings a well-rounded hip, my eyes fall to those long honey-toned legs.

  Forget cancer. The warm kiss of the Caribbean sun was worth it to most tourists who purposefully left their sunscreen back in their room.

  But I’m not here to get laid. At least not right now. And the only woman I want beneath me currently loathes me and is purposefully walking two steps behind to show just how much.

  Daphne or Daffee. I still haven’t made up my mind if I want to continue baiting her by forcing the hideous nickname on her.

  I’m a stubborn bastard and the harder she fights me, the more I want to tame her.

  I stop and wait for them to catch up. Aubrey had awoken the moment the bus stopped and Daphne had stalked forth to snatch his hand away from mine, giving me the dirtiest look imaginable. But though her amber eyes had been on fire with the need to do me some type of serious bodily harm, the boiling heat in them had only served to stiffen that conscienceless part of my anatomy.

  I reach out and snatch Daphne’s hand before she can shove her way past me, she gasps and several pairs of ragingly curious eyes swing in our direction.

  “Let me go,” she hisses.

  I smiled slowly, savoring the way the rise of her chest which causes those sweet firm breasts to push against the worn material of her crisp smelling t-shirt. I let my gaze linger on her chest for a second too long.

  “Admit it,” I say half tauntingly, “you’d wanted to sleep with me last night. It wasn’t because of the money.”

  “You … you” she snaps her teeth together, her face has gone all shades of caramel. Then she calms down and fixes me with an eerie stare that sends chills down my spine. “Part of the reason I slept with you was because I knew it was what you expected.”

  For a moment I can’t speak, even as I search her eyes, desperately trying to find the lie, to expose her for the lying little witch she is but the more I look all I see is myself, the ugliness that has seeped into my character.

  Turning away abruptly I let out a slow breath, apart from my father, Daphne has been the only other person to see me as I truly am. A selfish bastard willing to take whatever I want at any cost.

  As we arrive at the pier, the heavy smell of too much salt water pushed into a tiny inlet that is filled with algae and fish floods into my stomach. I grimace as the smell sours in my stomach and I’m thankful that I haven’t had breakfast.

  I survey the ferry. A good sized boat, two decks. Tourists and locals are already mingling aboard. Daphne goes up to a small outhouse sized building sitting right at the center of the deck that leads to the ferry and pulls out her wallet.

  I catch up with her before she can part with cash I know she cannot afford.

  “Let me do this.”

  She turns ferocious eyes on me. “I already told you I’m not for sale.”

  God please have a little mercy on my soul. This woman or girl because she didn’t even look older than the age of fourteen with her butterscotch skin and amber colored eyes was certainly going to add numerous years to my already taxed existence.

  I make my face colder than a whetstone, “I seem to recall that conversation,” I ignore the line forming behind us, “but I’m sure you’ll agree that a maid’s weekly salary cannot cover the cost of tickets for three adults and one child.”

  Her mouth drops open in amazement, then her eyes narrow with even more suspicion, which I had previously thought to be humanly impossible. “How do you know how much I make,” she hisses again. She is turning into a damn cobra, next
thing I know she’ll be spitting in my eyes.

  “Let’s just say that my stay at Sunset Cove wasn’t entirely spent avoiding capture and flirting with heatstroke.”

  I manage to move her firmly out of the way and promptly pay the staring ticket booth lady who is gawking at us with bright, rabbit eyes.

  We head over to the boat and after furnishing the four bits of rectangular paper are waved unceremoniously through unto the lower deck.

  There is a crush of bodies as everyone runs to grab a seat alongside the rails.

  Waiting for the confusion to die down I glance out at the sea. It’s green but not any ordinary green rather it’s a light emerald green, with hints of sky blue splashed through it. The Caribbean Sea never ceases to amaze me and for several seconds I forget that I’m on a boat running from a hit-man and married to a woman who hates the very shadow of my presence.

  I feel a slight tug on the leg of my khaki’s and look down into Aubrey’s face. He smiles uneasily up at me.

  “I’m hungry,” he says with a whine.

  I almost laugh out loud. Children, they are so honest and to the point.

  I bend down to him and from the corner of my eyes catch a familiar pair of jean covered legs headed swiftly in my direction. I ignore it and meet Aubrey’s anxious brown gaze. The ferry has to have some overpriced food, the kind that all touristy spots love to sell their consumers.

  I grin at him and I’m surprised that I feel that smile somewhere inside, not just on the surface where nothing is real anymore. “What would you like to eat little man?”

  Daphne has arrived and she catches my question. “I can get him something to eat,” she snaps at me.

  I don’t take my eyes from Aubrey who is looking back and forth between us with a bewildered expression on his face.

  “My sister is mad at you, Mr. Blackthorne.”

  “Nate, little man, my name is Nate, that’s all. And yes,” I tip a glance up at Daphne, “your big sister is mad at me, but I’m sure she’ll feel better soon.” I dare not look up now, not from fear but from the danger that her outraged expression will cause me to burst out laughing. I keep my face straight with some effort.

  Without meeting her eyes I decide to call a truce for the moment. “Daphne, I promise that I will no longer address you by the disgusting nickname of Daffee if you let me take care of this for the little man.”

  There is silence and I wait for several seconds, then our eyes meet and I straighten up, my hand affectionately splayed over Aubrey’s head.

  She seems to be warring with herself but then I see the fight going out of her. She nods stiffly and turns on her heels and heads back toward the seat she’d taken with Elaine, at the furthest end of the boat. Away from me. No surprise there.

  I get Aubrey something to eat and to be naughty a snickers candy bar. I had put the kid through some tough shit already and he deserved it.

  He thanks me like a proper little gentleman and skips back to Daphne and Elaine.

  I had originally planned to charter a plane, hide out in one of the French islands, maybe Guadeloupe or Martinique. I had done several drops on both islands several years ago and one of the places I had performed my business had been a beautiful eighteenth century estate. Its grounds had been gorgeously planted with orchids, native trees, and even white grapes vines, all bursting around lazy ponds and fountains covered with ferns.

  It had been wondrous and my host had given me free run of the place for the entire week of my stay.

  I doubt that I’ d be welcomed back in that particular abode now as I’m cut off from my former employer’s octopus-like influence but I could have gained a little house by a stream and perhaps found some solace for a few weeks. Though my French isn’t so good I have found that being white and tolerably handsome has its advantages in these islands where the ghost of the massa and his invulnerability still lingers like an unwavering stink on the air.

  Now though the one thing I’m certain of more than any other is that human depravity has no color and some of us just stink worse than others. And I am one of those stinking people. I can still smell the taint of it on my clothes left by the filth of the drug trade I’d worked in for five long years.

  Looking around at the excited faces of the tourists who swarm around us, I know if I look hard enough I will likely see someone I recognize from a street corner or one of the many fine homes in this region.

  I take a sip of the coke I’d gotten along with Aubrey’s food. After several deep swallows I feel somewhat satisfied. So much for a healthy breakfast.

  I scan the crowd again for any sign that Emmanuel may have a backup. Pablo Guarez has never been the most patient type when he sends his hit-man after you. But there is nothing. Everyone seems busy talking, gossiping, already pointing to vague images of Montserrat in the distance.

  Will it be as beautiful as I’ve read? Most active volcanic islands tend to be lush, full of life, ironic considering their propensity to blow that life to dust when least expected.

  I tip my head back and close my eyes. I need to force myself to enjoy this ferry ride. The sun bright and sharp at eight is not truly hot yet, and its warmth caresses the tip of my nose, my brow. I close my eyes and allow myself to get lost in the sensations and try not to think of what I’ll do once we get to Montserrat.

  Chapter Three

  Daphne

  I pretend that I’m not watching him but my eyes somehow maneuver themselves in my sockets and I find my gaze fixed stubbornly on him.

  His hair glints in the sunlight, like spun, indolent gold. I turn away angry at my continued stupidity.

  I catch Elaine watching me, her gaze considering.

  It is too much. “Why are you staring at me?” Even to my own ears my voice is nasty. My cheeks burn with shame but I cannot make myself take back the words or muster the will to stem the hurt that momentarily leaps into Elaine’s eyes.

  “Just looking around,” she replies. Then she looks down into her lap, where one hand is resting, the other is latched around Aubrey who is too busy savoring his illicit breakfast candy bar to bother with either of us.

  She purses her mouth together, then meets my eyes again. “Do you love him?”

  I scoff and immediately several pairs of eyes flip to me before scattering away. A further dose of shame drenches me and I make my face hard to hide the rioting of my emotions, the tenderness that has started bleeding inside me because of Nate.

  Do I love him? How could I? I’ve barely met the man. And he’s a criminal. I know that as surely as I know the difference between a native or imported variety of mango.

  “That’s none of your business,” I whisper in a savage undertone. Hopefully low enough for Aubrey in his chocolate haze to miss.

  She flinches but does not break her contact with me. “You were always so sure of yourself, so arrogant.”

  I nearly fall off the wooden bench that laps around the deck of the ferry. Elaine of all people has the nerve to criticize me?

  “How dare you?” I sputter, searching desperately for the harshest, cruelest insult I can think of but my damned brain turns up empty at this most inopportune time. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I rage at her in another furious whisper, “you don’t know me. You never wanted to.”

  She leans into Aubrey for a moment, places a tender kiss on his forehead. Aubrey’s lashes have descended onto his cheeks. If I didn’t know better I would have supposed he is drifting off to sleep lulled by the fragrant salty air which has become much fresher and cooler since we pulled out into the obliging current.

  But I know different. He’s been listening to us this entire time. It kills me that for once I have opened the door to my hate for his mother in front of him but I can’t help myself. I have lost control. Ever since I met Nate it’s all just melted away.

  Elaine and I are locked in a visual battle and I can feel the fresh, traitorous sting of tears trying to break through again. But I will not crumble in front of this w
oman. She doesn’t deserve it. “You don’t know me,” I reiterate stubbornly, daring her to refute it.

  She does. “Oh, but I think I do. I haven’t been blind these many years.” She finally breaks our visual showdown, dropping her gaze into her lap. She places a kiss on Aubrey’s forehead. “Despite what you believe I never willingly overlooked you.” She finishes in such a tiny whisper that if I had not been so attuned to her I would have missed it entirely.

  My heart thumps with a furious denial and I swing my head away to keep from falling apart on a boat with several dozen people and more importantly in front of Aubrey. And that’s when I see them.

  Someone, some woman is sitting right next to Nate, as intimate as an adjoining fruit, their faces barely inches apart on the crowded bench. And they are talking!

  I gape, blink, suck a few quick, difficult breaths into my lungs. My throat feels dry and I swallow but I dare not turn away because I’m sure that Elaine must have heard my sharp intake of breath, and is now watching me like a hungry hawk which spots a wounded mice.

  The woman laughs, her long, silky blond hair rippling along her exposed shoulders and down to legs that are barely covered in a rustic looking short-shorts which I know probably cost a fortune at Gap or Levi’s. Not that I’ve ever been able to shop at such places.

  Casually the woman reaches forward and taps him playfully on a shoulder and I can’t take it anymore.

  I launch to my feet, my backpack tumbles to the ground, drawing stares. I slap a hand over my mouth, avoid the jumble of inquisitive stares and dash blindly towards the bathroom at the back of the ferry.

  I tear open the door, spraining a fingernail in the process but the pain tumbles like a tiny drop in the bucket that has just upended inside of me. I glance wildly along the small bathroom which shockingly appears clean and empty, the rank odor of pee and more malodorous offenses absent for the time being.