by Sybil Bartel
“I thought you were downrange.”
“Was—going back day after tomorrow. My mom died.” Buck stared out at the ocean.
Roark glanced at him again. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said sincerely. “Was there a service?”
“Yesterday.”
“Sorry I missed it.”
Buck didn’t reply and my heart tightened for him. I wanted to reach out to him but it would be witnessed by two other men and I knew enough about Buck to know he wouldn’t have appreciated that.
I surmised from idle chatter between Talon and Roark that Roark had a charter business with his plane out of Key West and business was good.
“I could use another pilot. When are you going to join me?” Roark asked Buck.
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Buck was a pilot?
Talon laughed. “Looks like Sugar didn’t know you could fly, Deer Hunter.”
Buck glanced at me, his expression guarded. “It’s only a private pilot’s license.”
Just? Shit, I was lucky I could manage to drive through rush hour traffic in Miami.
Roark inclined his head back toward me. “Maybe you’ll be ready to retire soon.”
Buck looked at me, his eyes serious. “Maybe,” he said solemnly.
That single word, eerily intimate through the headphones, was a shock to my heart. I didn’t smile, I didn’t nod. I didn’t dare react. I knew that decision would have to be Buck’s but the seed of hope spread like warm sunshine on a cold day.
Talon jerked his head to look at Buck. His expression was total surprise before he quickly masked it.
“You have a job if you ever want it.” Roark’s voice came through the headphones.
Buck dragged his eyes away from me and glanced at Roark. “Thanks.”
We were all quiet for the next hour. The only sound was the engine and the chatter of air traffic through the headphones. The farther south we got, the prettier the water was. The aqua waters of South Florida always felt like home. Even in the late afternoon sun, the colors were spectacular.
Roark banked the plane west by Homestead and swung a wide arc over the beginning of the keys. My stomach twisted with anxiety the farther south we flew. I didn’t want to think about what would happen if something went wrong but my mind kept coming up with worst case scenarios.
As if knowing my thoughts were tanking, Buck snaked his hand between the two front seats and squeezed my knee. I curled my fingers over his, savoring the contact. I wanted to get used to this but he was shipping out day after tomorrow and the thought of him going back to Afghanistan was making me physically sick. I let go of his hand, already counting the hours we had left. Dusk had always been my favorite part of the day but today it only meant two things—a standoff with Miami and Buck’s imminent departure.
I’d barely let myself think about my parents. On a good day, I used to remember my mother’s sweet smile and the hint of perfume that you only smelled if she moved near you. I used to imagine I could still hear my father’s gentle voice or my mother’s delicate laugh when my father amused her. But now, all I thought about was how could my father have done the things he did. It was criminal. He was a criminal. And my mother? She knew it and she did nothing to stop him, nothing to protect me, she just kept depositing his stolen money into an account with my name on it. For the first time in three years, I was no longer sad that they were dead. I was mad—change a person mad.
Roark dipped the seaplane and my stomach dropped. I shoved thoughts of my parents down deep and looked out the window. The miles of inky swells below us with land only a distant sight to the east had me gripping my seat again.
Buck’s voice came through the headphones. “Almost down.”
And that was preferable to up? I only nodded because Buck was looking at me.
“Want to land her?” Roark asked Buck.
Buck turned and took the yoke. I watched, fascinated, as Buck slowly brought the plane down, skimming the top of the water then gently landing. Sea spray flew off the floats, changing the sound inside the cabin. Buck steered the plane east. Roark called out coordinates and we came to a stop in the middle of the gulf, the water rocking the plane like a boat.
Roark cut the engines and I took off my headphones. It was only then I heard the sound of a motor running. Talon threw open the plane’s door and right outside was a beautiful Cobalt cruiser. A shirtless Neil maneuvered the boat up to the plane. The boat had to be at least a thirty-footer, and Cobalt boats weren’t cheap.
“Thanks for the ride, Mickey.” Talon slapped Roark on the back and began throwing the bags to Neil.
Roark shook his head. “I hate that nickname,” he muttered before turning to Buck. “It was good to see you in one piece.” He offered his hand to Buck and they shook.
“You too, it’s been too long.”
“I’m going to refuel, call me if you need a pick up. Layna, nice meeting you.” Roark spared me a glance.
“Likewise,” I mumbled.
“C’mon, Sugar! Before I wind up doin’ the splits,” Talon called. With one foot on the boat and one foot on the plane’s float, he held his hand out to me.
I took his hand and before I could leap, Talon grabbed my waist and lifted me onto the Cobalt. I spun around to lay into him as soon as my feet hit the deck.
“I could’ve managed.”
Talon hopped on deck, grinning. “Aw, c’mon, Sugar, let an old man have his fun.”
“You’re twenty-five, not fifty,” I snapped.
Talon chuckled. “Appreciate the compliment, darlin’.” He winked.
“Back off.” Buck stepped on board, warning Talon.
Neil gave the cruiser gas, effectively ending the pissing match as we all scrambled for a seat. I took a seat opposite the captain’s and watched Neil wave to Roark as he swung the boat around. Standing behind the wheel, shirtless and in shorts, Neil still looked imposing as hell. As if he knew I was staring at him, he turned and nodded. The last of the setting sun’s rays caught his chest and I gasped. A huge angry red scar, thick as a pencil, ran diagonally from one collarbone to the opposite hip. Ho-ly shit. Wide eyed, I looked back up at his face and flinched. This time, his expression wasn’t impassive. It was deadly.
I jerked around in my seat and closed my eyes against the blackened swells rushing past. The mild air skimmed past my face and I pretended I was anywhere but here. Talon and Buck discussed something I couldn’t hear over the roar of the motors.
The seat beside me dipped and a strong, warm arm tucked behind my shoulders. I opened my eyes to Buck’s serious expression as he looked down at me.
The wind whipped my hair and Buck brushed strands away from my face. “You doing okay?”
Not really. “Yeah.” I brought my knees up and curled into him.
“You’re lying.”
I bristled but quickly realized Buck and I had so little time together, every second counted. And if I couldn’t be honest with him, we had no future. I traced the lines of his jaw with my fingers and sighed. “I took it as a relative question. I’m okay because I feel totally detached, like it’s happening to someone else. I don’t know if that’s because I’ve handed the live grenade to you and washed my hands of it or if I’ve hit some arbitrary wall and I just can’t process any more emotion. All I know? I’m more upset about you leaving than what’s going down tonight. Which—on one level—is really messed up. I’ve involved three strangers in my personal vendetta for justice, without any regard for the law or their safety.”
“First, you didn’t hand me the grenade, I volunteered. And I made you a promise—your freedom, my rules. You let me worry about the details. Second, we aren’t strangers, we’re your friends.”
“You know I have no concept of that, right? I’ve existed in isolation for years. It’s like you’re lecturing to me about astrophysics. I neither understand nor relate to it.”
Buck smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”
“Like you get used to a stray dog
that follows you home, or like you get used to a bad haircut?” Because there was a difference.
Buck threw his head back and laughed. “The shit you say sometimes, Christ. Don’t ever filter.” He stroked my cheek and his eyes softened. “But I get it. It’s the stray dog. You didn’t feed it, you don’t understand why it chose you, but it did. So you leave out some crumbs, you eventually pet it and next thing you know, you’ve opened your door and that dog is following you everywhere...” A dark heat passed across his expression. “And you love him for it.”
I didn’t know how it’d happened, but he was right. “I love you.”
“I’m your stray,” he whispered.
My stomach fluttered. “You have that backward.” So backward.
Smiling, he brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. “No, I don’t.” Then he kissed me. Sweet, gentle, a touch of lips against mine and he abruptly pulled back. “Is that okay?”
Breathless, I wanted more. “Is what okay?”
“Kissing you. In front of an audience.”
I thought back to the times he’d kissed me and I realized he’d never done it, at least not intentionally, in front of an audience, except when he was drunk last night. “Not something you usually do?”
He shook his head once.
I saw a vulnerability in his eyes I didn’t understand. “Me either,” I whispered.
A ghost of a smile touched his lips and he leaned in again. This time his tongue stroked across my bottom lip and he gently coerced my mouth open. When his tongue met mine, heat exploded through my body and I groaned. My head fell back on his shoulder and his arm came around me, fast and hard.
Buck kissed me like he was straining to hold back. Sweet, gentle, his body humming with tension, his chest heaved with effort. He softly caressed my tongue, my mouth, igniting a current that went straight to my core. He cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek as his mouth claimed me with reverence. Trailing his lips across my jaw, his breath touched my ear a second before his voice whispered across my skin with need.
“I’m going to make you mine.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The sun had set and the faint glow on the horizon was fast bleeding into the dark navy of night. The moon was bright and the water shimmered in its path. Distant lights twinkled on Key West. I looked at Buck, the wide set of his shoulders, the hard planes of his face, his quiet strength, and I wondered for the thousandth time if there wasn’t a different way to do this. Neil’s intel had tracked Miami’s movement all day and so far had been spot on. Miami had left work early, stopped at a strip club and an hour later was cruising down to the Keys with a woman in tow. The yacht that belonged to the construction firm managing the Port of Miami tunnel project was moored in Key West. It wasn’t hard to make the leap.
Neil had anchored the Cobalt behind an uninhabited island. He swore the yacht would pass within spotting distance when it pulled out. So we’d waited. Neil occasionally used a pair of night vision binoculars and checked his phone. My stomach growled with hunger and growing nerves. Talon had passed around deli sandwiches but I’d been too anxious to eat. Buck had frowned at me but hadn’t said anything. In fact, we hadn’t really spoken since his declaration.
An hour past sunset, Neil’s phoned buzzed. He checked the display then trained the binoculars to the south. “Movement, south-southwest,” he said, still looking through the binoculars.
Talon stood and stretched. Looking at Buck, he grinned. “Ready to gear up, Deer Hunter?” All that was missing from Talon’s excited expression was a greedy hand rub gesture and hunched shoulders.
My stomach took a nose dive. I reached for Buck’s arm as he stood. “There’s no other way?” I didn’t want him getting hurt.
Buck stared at me as if gauging how to respond. A tense second passed then he leaned down and kissed me softly. “I’ll be fine,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry.”
“What about me, Sugar?” Talon teased, pulling his shirt over his head one handed. “Aren’t you worried about me?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t going to lie.
Talon’s hand went to his chest. “Aw, Sugar, you know just how to get to a man.” He winked.
Buck shook his head as he stripped his shirt off. Sitting back down, he unlaced his boots and began unbuckling his belt. Heat flamed my cheeks and I looked away.
“I’ve got visual.” Neil broke the strained silence.
“How far you think they’ll go out?” Talon asked.
“Far enough for her screams not to be heard,” Neil replied without an ounce of emotion.
In just a pair of tight boxers, Talon froze with his hands on his hips. “Fuck.” He looked at Neil.
Neil spared him a glance before looking back through the binoculars.
Talon looked at Buck. They stared at each other for a heartbeat then Buck nodded once.
“We coming back plus one?” Talon asked Neil.
“I’m not getting closer than two hundred yards,” Neil warned.
Talon looked out across the water. “That’s a long paddle if she’s injured, Christensen.” He sounded resigned.
Neil shrugged. “Your call.”
“Goddamn it. Hurry up, Blaze, I want out there.” Talon pulled on his wetsuit.
“She’s anchoring.” Neil dropped the binoculars and turned to the helm. He started the engine then pulled anchor. A moment later we were creeping behind the uninhabited island to our left, concealing us from the yacht.
As soon as we were out of sight, Neil cut the engine and dropped anchor again. Buck stood, pulling on the top half of his wetsuit. Watching Buck gear up was like watching a scary movie you couldn’t look away from. He strapped a lethal-looking knife in a holster to his thigh then clipped a utility belt around his waist with a flashlight and a bunch of other stuff I couldn’t identify. He pulled a dive hood on then shouldered his tanks. Checking his regulator, he put his mask over his head but didn’t pull it down. He slipped his fins on then slipped one arm through the shoulder strap to his AR-15.
“Ready?” Buck called to Talon, who was on the opposite side of the boat.
“And willin’,” Talon answered.
“Be careful.” I looked at Buck, praying for his safe return.
He nodded. “I will.” Slipping his mask in place, he put his mouth piece in and cradled his rifle. Then, as in the movies, he did a graceful backward roll off the side of the boat and was gone.
I looked to where Talon had been a second ago. Nothing.
“Now we wait,” Neil said quietly.
I slumped into the seat.
My adrenaline must’ve weaned because exhaustion reared up like a tsunami. Maybe it was the stress, or the sleepless night, but all of a sudden, I was shivering and fighting to keep my eyes open.
“Go below and lie down.” Neil’s voice broke through the quiet night.
“No.” No way.
Neil stood and gracefully slipped below deck despite his size. He came back a few seconds later with a blanket and wrapped it around me.
“Thanks.” I snuggled into the soft fleecy material. “How big is your boat?” I asked just to make conversation.
“Thirty-five foot.”
“She’s a beauty.” And ass expensive.
Neil didn’t reply.
I looked at his chest again. Even in the dark, the scar was cringe worthy. “What happened to you?” I dared ask.
His body turned so I knew he’d heard me but I didn’t look up right away. When I dragged my eyes away from his scar, he didn’t have to speak. His expression said it all.
“Nothing,” he warned.
My blood went cold and a sudden thrust of waves slapped the side of the boat.
“Sorry,” I whispered, terrified of Neil and more terrified of looking away from him.
Neil held my eyes for what seemed like an hour then nodded.
The breath whooshed out of me and I looked away. I sat there, heart pounding, my nerves shot, wondering how the hell my life ha
d come to this. Out of sight of the yacht, I couldn’t even see if Talon and Buck had boarded. Shit. “How long is it going to take?”
“Not long,” Neil said.
Encouraged by him speaking to me, I asked the question that was plaguing me. “What if something goes wrong?”
“It won’t.”
“What if one of them gets hurt?” Or killed? Miami would be armed.
Neil didn’t answer, so I sneaked a peek at him. His eyes trained on me, he’d been waiting for me to look at him. “I trust Talon.”
I didn’t know Neil but I knew him enough to know that simple statement spoke volumes. I nodded and pulled the blanket closer around me. Time seemed to stop. Seconds, minutes, it felt like hours. Arms crossed, Neil was still.
Then he abruptly stood, picking up the binoculars.
I was on my feet. “What do you see?” My heart slammed against my ribs.
Binoculars trained over the top of the vegetation on the island in front of us, Neil hesitated. “Smoke.” He dropped the binoculars and started the engine. Nosing the Cobalt halfway around the island, he turned the boat to face north. I stared at the south sky, seeing nothing.
A second later a clattering sound slapped against the deck. I yelped and spun around. Holding on to the back of the boat, Talon threw his and Buck’s rifles onboard then he ripped off his dive mask. Shrugging the straps off his shoulders, his tanks hit the deck with a thud and he disappeared back into the water.
“Talon!” I called, scrambling to the swim platform.
“Quiet,” Neil ordered.
Shit! I looked into the black water. Nothing. I searched left and right. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Shit! Where the hell was Buck? The engine slowly churned the water but that was it. Panicked, I got on my knees and kept scanning. Damn it!
I glanced back at Neil but he had the binoculars trained on the sky.
A whoosh of water and Talon was suddenly sitting next to me on the swim platform, his knees hanging over. “Easy, easy, hand her up.” Talon reached down.
Buck appeared from around the side of the boat. Swimming with his mask up, regulator hanging, he had a lifeless form in one arm. He heaved his arm up and Talon scooped the mass into his arms.