Broken Circle

by Amy McKinley

  A moment passed before he answered. “I can take you to Rhode Island. There is a buddy of mine that’ll help from there.”

  The fast and instant relief made her dizzy, and she swayed. His hand clamped on her arm, and he directed her to rollaway stairs he pushed to the opening of the plane he was working on.

  “Thank you.”

  Again, he only grunted. “Go on in and buckle up. We leave in ten minutes.”

  “I can pay.”

  His abrupt head shake stopped her from saying anything further. “I’m going there, anyway. Doesn’t cost me anything to take you along.”

  She thanked him before hurrying up the stairs to fall into a seat. With a click, she secured the belt. Liv clutched her purse in her lap and laid her head back. With a few minutes to herself, free from the constant worry of how to get away, sadness over all she’d lost flooded her system. Refusing to cry, she pushed out a breath and willed her tired mind and body to heal, hoping she had put her trust in the right man this time.

  She stood with Trevor in Rhode Island, overlooking boats tethered to the pier.

  “My buddy’s is that one over there.”

  A sporty, luxury boat bobbed at the end of the pier where he’d pointed and a tiny amount of tension eased in between Liv’s shoulders.

  Trev flashed her a grin and motioned her over to it. He jumped aboard, helped her on, and yelled for Liam as he went down a flight of stairs to the cabin below. She stayed where she was. When his head popped back up above deck, he grinned. “Well, this should be interesting.”

  Alarm slammed into her, and her body trembled. “What?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “Oh, maybe I can find somewhere to stay, then.” She looked behind her at the dock, worried that Juan Carlos’s reach extended there too. Keeping out of sight until she heard from Alex would be the best course of action. But she’d ditched her phone. In its place sat a burner cell she’d picked up when she and Trev had stopped for a bite to eat after landing. Alex didn’t have that number.

  “Nah. He’ll be back. I couldn’t get ahold of him to tell him about you, but I texted him.” He winked. “Just make yourself at home and be sure to tell him Trev brought you.”

  “Okay.” She looked around at the boat, at a loss for where she should sit that would be out of the way while waiting for this Liam person to arrive.

  Trev chuckled. “You can wait in the cabin. Liam won’t mind once you mention me.”

  The smile of relief she flashed him made him shake his head, and he gave her shoulder a light squeeze. “Take care of yourself and stay out of sight until he gets back.”

  After hearing Trevor’s parting words, she did exactly as he told her and went below deck to wait for what fate brought her next.

  Chapter 13

  The powerful inboard cabin cruiser worried Liv, especially since one of the ways the Ramirez cartel smuggled their cocaine was over water. That wasn’t her only concern; her other was who the owner of the boat might be. But that wasn’t a big enough reason for her to leave. Desperate to sit down, she sank onto a cushioned seat below deck, out of sight. The flight and constant anxiety had exhausted her, and the gentle rocking on the water helped soothe her frayed nerves. An hour passed, and the threat of discovery hung heavy. Her hand splayed over the seats on either side of her. While comfortable, she longed for the softness of a bed and the safety of her world before she and Alex had left.

  With nothing but time, Liv pulled her phone from her oversized purse. She opened her browser and typed “Ramirez cartel” into Google. She scrolled through the titles, hovering over the YouTube videos, but instead clicked on a link about territory wars. The article loaded, and her gaze shied away from graphic pictures. With her stomach churning, she read on.

  Widespread panic ensued in the tiny village as two rival factions fought to establish claim to the small town’s water access. A sea of black-masked men collided. The Ramirez cartel rose to the challenge the Los Elegido cartel had thrown down. They would not relent their position or their territory to the spreading Mexican cartel.

  The sound of gunshots, bodies hitting the ground, and the screams of the dying rang through the surrounding forest.

  The cartel members were not the only ones slain on this day. Caught in the crossfire, the dirt roads were littered with mutilated residents. Blood ran freely, and dry dirt turned to a reddish-brown mud. Those that could hide did. Others were not so lucky.

  After the gruesome attack, members of the Ramirez cartel drove the rivals back, piling up body parts in a gory wall, warning others not to pass.

  Bile inched up Liv’s throat as she skimmed over pictures of maimed and bleeding people. Unable to stomach any more, she powered off her phone, again taking the battery out.

  How could Alex have come from those people? With a shaking hand, she pushed her hair back, grateful she’d escaped but horrified for all those who had not. As each minute passed, she focused on regaining control of her emotions. I’m safe. They can’t find me here. Soon, Liam would get there, and they would hopefully leave, lessening her chances of being found even more.

  The boat gently dipped from the weight of someone stepping on board. Footsteps sounded on the deck, and her abused stomach muscles tensed. Fear made her dizzy. When the footsteps hit the stairs, Liv’s fingernails dug into the cushion. A man’s legs came into view in that second, and her body went into fight-or-flight mode. Adrenaline surged, but she locked her muscles down and remained sitting.

  Nothing had prepared her for him. He looked about thirty or thirty-one, very close to her twenty-eight years, and…holy hell. Narrowed, bright-green eyes met hers, assessing. Tall, broad-shouldered, and with a strong chiseled jaw, the man filled the doorway. The hollows of his cheeks only added to his allure. His mouth pressed into a tight line and made her sit up taller. With her smaller size, Liv became anxious at his very large presence. She shivered. Tension rolled off him like waves on an ocean after a storm. No other emotion graced his shuttered features.

  Liv’s fingers curled on the cushioned seat, her words momentarily held hostage by her stunned mind. She had been foolish to wait below. The large man filled the doorway, making it impossible for her to pass.

  His tight collared shirt stretched over rippling muscles, and his biceps flexed when he gripped the top of the frame, leaning in as if he had all the time in the world. If only she did too.

  She narrowed her eyes right back at him, refusing to show the worry clawing inside her. In the silence, she continued to assess him for a potential threat. Her muscles slowly relaxed as his brows drew together in what looked like concern. He could be an asset.

  Capable. That was what his broad shoulders broadcasted. A portion of the duct-taped vigilance she had maintained to hold herself together eased.

  She nibbled her lower lip as a new thought popped into her head. What if he denied her help? Her emotions bounced like a yo-yo as she waited for him to speak, silently coming to a variety of conclusions about him and about the current position she found herself in.

  A frightening thought screamed through her mind, waking her to the precarious situation she was in. He looked like military with his short haircut—a bit long for active duty—and his controlled stance. Did he have connections with the police?

  Seeming to come to a decision, he leaned back against the bulkhead, his arms crossed over his impressive chest. “Why are you on my boat?”

  A single question, and her fate hung in the balance of her answer. Steel laced his slightly accented words and infused her, aiding her determination to successfully escape. Anywhere, even Rhode Island, existed too close to the threat she fled from. She ran through her options and decided the least information might gain the best results. “Trev flew me here. He said you’d be able to take me farther away.”

  “Away from what?” His gaze scrutinized her bruised face, and his jaw clenched. “Or whom?”

  Colombia. My husband. His family. “Just away.” Would fear darke
n his eyes and refusal color his words if he knew who she fled from? Letting him incorrectly assume that she was running from a battered marriage seemed the safer bet to elicit his aid.

  He stood straight and spared a quick glance at his phone—no doubt the text from Trevor he’d failed to read. “So, you’re Liv, huh?”

  That was what she needed, confirmation he’d read Trev’s text. This was Liam for sure. It had to be. “Olivia, I mean Liv. I go by the shortened version.” Oh my God! What was her problem? She should have given a fake name. First the clothing store owner, then Trevor, now Liam? I’m not cut out for life on the run.

  “Liam.” He smirked, in a good way. “I’m headed to Maine. Is that far enough?”

  The rapid percussion of her pulse skipped at the news. Nowhere would be safe.

  The crinkles in the corners of his eyes eased her anxiety further. “Yes, Maine is perfect. I-I have money. I can pay you.”

  Liam’s gaze roved over her, from head to toe. “Keep it. I’m going there, anyway.”

  She breathed out her relief. The small wad of bills sat heavy in her purse but would be necessary for her survival later. No way could she attempt to touch her bank accounts, use a credit card, or present identification that could lead them to her. Unfortunately, she was an open book with her name. She longed to call Rachel, but dragging her into this mess might not have been the best idea.

  “Thank you.” Tears misted her eyes at the chance for safety, and she dug her nails into her palms to gain control. The soft burr of Liam’s Irish accent helped to ease some of her anxiety.

  He opened his mouth, about to say something, when a noise sounded above. All trace of emotion erased from his face. The immediate sharpening of his focus eased her worry. This was the right move. He appeared as though he could handle himself, maybe not against a mob of Juan Carlos’s men, but definitely if a few boarded.

  Without uttering a sound, he went topside. Holding still so no noises carried, she strained to hear. Liam exchanged a few words with whoever had come aboard, but she couldn’t make them out. Steps receded, and the boat swayed as the person left. When Liam came down with grocery bags and set them on the kitchen counter, she tentatively followed him back up to help.

  He moved aside, grinned, and gave her a light bag while he took armfuls. “Why don’t you head below? I’m about ready to push off.” A crooked grin pulled his lips up but did not meet his eyes. “That bright outfit doesn’t help you blend in.”

  Her hand flew to the scarf Marita had wrapped around her hair, hoping to change her appearance enough to throw off immediate pursuit. Liam had a point, and she refrained from correcting his assumption of her disguise. The cabin offered shelter from prying eyes, and with a nod, she rose and ducked beneath the hull to follow the stairs below.

  Light filtered in through the small portals as she made her way through a galley kitchen, past a built-in table, and to the front of the boat. A bed loomed ahead, and she was powerless against its pull. Exhausted, she nudged off her flats with her toes before crawling into the bed. Her head hit the pillow, eyelids fluttered shut, and welcoming darkness caught her in its arms.

  Blind trust became her only option.

  The nudge at Liv’s back pulled her from warmth. She rocked in a slow side-to-side motion and withstood the pull to wake. Safe in Alex’s arms, the tears for their loss fell in wild abandon. The heat from his hand on her shoulder made her burrow deeper into his embrace. All she wanted was the man she loved to shield her from the world, at least for a little while longer.

  A sob racked her body and rattled her from the safety of her dream. With a slow blink, the cause of the disturbance, the heated palm on her shoulder that gently shook her, came into focus. Him. Liam.

  She sucked in a breath and wet her dry lips. Oh God, did he want more than she could give him? The fact that she was on his bed didn’t escape her notice. She shifted away. “What’s wrong?”

  A frown marred his face. He stood back rather than looming over her and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans, probably to appear less intimidating. It didn’t work.

  “You’ve been asleep for sixteen hours.”

  Sixteen? “I thought Maine was only a few hours away.”

  “It is. I had another sales stop, and it added time. Not to mention, we dropped anchor to sleep.”

  With a quick look, she noticed the lack of indent on the pillow beside her, and she relaxed. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Her much smaller frame would have done fine on the couch, where there was no way he could fit.

  “We’ll be in port in an hour to refuel. Is there anything you need?”

  “No.” She dropped her hands into her lap to still their shaking. Out at sea, they couldn’t find her. But on land…that was an entirely different story.

  His teal gaze captured hers. “We aren’t there yet. Why don’t you join me on the deck? A little sunshine will help.”

  Nothing would help, not really—except, perhaps, enough distance. When Alex returned home, she would too. Maybe, if it was possible, they could resume some semblance of normalcy. Internally, she winced. She was dreaming in regard to anything being normal again.

  Icy fingers crawled up her spine, and she faced the truth. Their lives would never be the same again. She’d met the other side of Alex and feared it. Since learning about his family, her doubts about his true identity swirled like an angry hornet’s nest. Her former life, her marriage—it was over. It was time to let him go.

  She had to run. Staying there had killed her baby. If she’d stayed, she would have died there as well. She sensed that deep in her bones. At random times, she would remember their baby girl. Then she would play a game of what if. What if she’d agreed to remain behind in Barbados? What if she’d remained in Rita’s house when Alex had left to meet his father? What if she’d never stepped foot outside the room she and Alex were to stay in at his father’s house?

  Liam’s voice startled her, and the pillow she held fell from her arms. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

  “I asked if you were coming.” At her blank stare, he repeated what he’d said. “Up top to get some sun and fresh air.”

  That, she needed. “Yes.”

  Wind whipped her freed hair, and she sucked in a deep breath of sea air. Despite the darkness that clung to her soul, she smiled. He was right. She needed this.

  Liam steered the boat, his attention on the direction they headed.

  Sinking into the captain’s chair next to him, Liv grinned. “It’s beautiful.”

  He flashed a smile, and she volleyed back with a wobbly one, tilting her head as she scrutinized him further. With the backdrop of the sea, he resembled a mythological god, one she needed in her situation. He looked powerful, with chiseled features, a strong jaw, and a body to rival any man she had met before, so different than Alex’s lean build.

  Leashed danger surrounded both of them, but for some reason, Liam’s didn’t cause her wariness. No doubt he could intimidate anyone he chose to. That, she could use. Regardless, a small voice inside her head warned she had made a mistake in her judgment with Alex.

  Even when they had first met, Alex’s mysterious aura stirred her self-protective instincts. But with her parents’ constant meddling and imposed restrictions, the time had been ripe for her to rebel. Her risk had turned into a dream, one her parents had oddly come on board with. Not once had Alex caused her to worry…until recently.

  Tired of her useless train of thought, she cast her gaze once more to the vast blue of the sea before them. Where had Liam gone that required him to take them so far off course? Puzzling over the possibilities, she startled when he chuckled. He must have been watching her as her mind spun and her expression turned curious.

  “I had a few restaurants to visit, and they were spread a good distance apart. The last was a referral, and I took a chance to sell to them as well. We won’t be much longer.”

  “What are you selling?”

  “Mainly wine this time. Normal
ly, this is all handled on the phone, but first contact, I like to do that myself.”

  “That’s wise to establish a relationship.”

  “Exactly. Then they have a face to put with the vendor.”

  The wind worked against their words in an attempt to whip them away. They lapsed into silence, and for a while, Liv felt better. With the sun beating down on them, her dry, scratchy throat became too uncomfortable, and she made an excuse to go below again.

  She ran the water until it was cold then dipped a glass under the faucet and took a few sips. At the taste, she pursed her lips. It was definitely not the bottled water she preferred. She set the cup in the sink then hobbled over to the small couch. After her punishing dash and anxiety over being found, she hadn’t spared a thought to her still aching ankle.

  The worry in Liam’s gaze as she’d made her excuses hadn’t gone unnoticed. She would be fine. But even as she told herself that, nausea rolled. Liv lay back down and shifted to her side. It would take some time for the cuts and bruises to fade, her ankle to fully heal, and her heart to mend.

  Sweat beaded along her hairline and above her upper lip. With a shaky hand, she swiped it away. If only the boat would stop rocking.

  If she’d stayed in the hospital, she would have received another day’s worth of strong antibiotics, not to mention the pills the doctor had told Alex she needed to continue for a week. Those pills were supposed to ease her aches and pains. Part of her worried she still needed the meds, that her injuries and the stress had turned into a minor infection, one that was gaining a foothold rather than subsiding. Although the clamminess and weakness could have just been a result of overtaxing and her battered body’s attempt to heal.

  While topside, Liam had asked if she was unwell, to which she’d replied no. She’d lied. With a gentle prod, he asked her again whom she ran from. She shook her head while he studied her. His calloused hand pressed against her forehead before she knew his intentions. Mouth tightening, he said he was stopping to get her medicine. Panic had bubbled, and she’d made him swear not to involve the police or hospitals.