Stranded (Auctioned Book 2)

by Cara Dee

  Two things stood out. In each corner, there was an AR-15.

  “Was it cold?” Gray came forward with a towel. A soft fucking towel. Goddamn, that felt good.

  “It was a little chilly,” Darius admitted, chuckling. He draped the towel around his shoulders. “Where are the others?”

  “Getting something to eat below,” Ryan answered.

  “Well, how about I take you guys outta here, yeah?” Ramirez clapped his hands together. “We should be in South Andros in three hours.”

  “Sounds good,” Darius answered. “Thank you for coming, buddy. Seriously.”

  Ramirez waved that off and continued toward the pilothouse. “Don’t sweat it, Quinn. You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count.”

  “He got us something else too, brother.” Ryan smirked lazily and held up—oh, fuck yeah. Two bottles of beer and a pack of smokes. “Ice cold.”

  “Mother of Christ,” Darius groaned. “If I were a woman, I’d have his children.”

  Gray spluttered a laugh.

  Darius winked at him, then popped open a bottle and accepted a smoke.

  “You don’t wanna get out of those jeans before you go back to working on your cancer?” Gray wondered, half amused.

  “Tryin’a get me outta my clothes already?” Darius ignored the remark on smoking; it was way too soon for that, and took a long swig of the beer. Heaven—that was what it tasted like. Sweet fucking heaven.

  Gray rolled his eyes and pointed at a stack of…clothes? On a sofa. “We’ve been given clothes, dimwit. Sweats and hoodies and underwear for, like, an entire hockey team.”

  Ah. Now that he mentioned it, Darius noticed Gray’s new sweat pants. Dark blue and still bearing the creases from being folded in their packaging. No hoodie, though. And it wasn’t the first or second time either. Gray avoided putting a shirt on for some reason.

  Ryan smiled curiously at Gray. “Didn’t you see the note? The clothes are from your mother.”

  Just like that, Gray’s face fell. He stood rigid. “What? I mean, what?”

  Ryan merely nodded at the steps that led down below. “Note’s on the table.”

  It warmed Darius’s heart to see the knucklehead take off in a sprint.

  With only him and Ryan left, Darius took the opportunity to shed the soaked jeans and put on a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Either Gray was good at guessing sizes, or he’d gotten lucky. The army-green clothes fit perfectly and were softer than the towel. Next, he got comfortable on a sofa, took another swig of his beer, and finally lit up a smoke.

  “Good, eh?” Ryan grinned knowingly.

  “Aye.” Darius closed his eyes. It wasn’t the nicotine that blanketed him in serenity, though. Okay, maybe a little. For the most part, it was the sense of victory. The feeling was encompassing and warm, tinted with melancholy and hope. Melancholy because he’d seen too many young men die on this trip. Hope because the survivors had been given a second chance, something that was so goddamn rare in this industry.

  Ryan must’ve guessed where his mind was at. “To the lost ones, big brother.”

  Darius opened his eyes and mirrored Ry, holding up his bottle. “And to the found.”

  They drank in silence, accompanied only by the low rumble of the engine and the water washing up against the boat. The Caribbean was stunning at night, revealing millions and millions of stars.

  “I couldn’t have done this without you, Ry.” Darius grabbed his knife from the table, wiped it dry on his pants, and returned it. It was gonna need some care when they got home.

  “I could quote Ramirez. You’ve bailed me out more than once when shit hit the fan. It’s what we do.”

  Darius nodded slowly and exhaled some smoke through his nose. “If only others could do the same.” Trafficking was always going to be a festering wound, and he hated it.

  “Aye…a crew of old grunts and…how much money?”

  Darius huffed a chuckle, and he lifted his brows. “Half a million.”

  Ryan winced. “Oof.” He flicked his smoke into the water. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go call Angel and Greg.” He paused. “I didn’t tell the others Ramirez has a phone in the pilothouse.”

  “Good call.” They’d all be able to call whomever they wanted in a few hours.

  Thirteen

  It didn’t take long for Darius to decide that the below-deck area could be a freaking mansion; he wasn’t leaving this spot. He turned the sofa into his lounger and leaned back on the short end, a smoke in one hand, his beer in the other.

  Ramirez had come out briefly for a cigarette, and they’d discussed some logistics before he’d left again. One hotel night in South Andros—they wouldn’t be going to Nassau at all. Instead, Gray’s stepdad was chartering a plane for them to go straight from South Andros to Fort Lauderdale in the morning.

  Darius let a shiver run through him.

  The air was bordering on cold, but he was too comfortable to move.

  “Mind if I sit here with you?”

  For him, I’ll move.

  Actually, he didn’t have to. He opened his eyes and nodded at the sliver of available space for Gray. “You can come warm me up.”

  “Uh…heh.” He glanced down at his bare chest. “Just a sec.” He disappeared downstairs again, only to return with a thick blanket. “My mom sent these too.”

  Darius smiled at the way he mentioned his mother—reverent, proud, and wistful. Poor kid was close to a breakdown. Gray wanted so fucking badly to hope, and Darius was the dick who was gonna push him. It was time, dammit.

  He put out his smoke and emptied his beer.

  Gray came over to the sofa and awkwardly got in, almost apologetic that he had to be draped halfway over Darius’s body. As if Darius was gonna complain. This was exactly what he needed.

  “There we go. I’ve got you trapped now.” Darius fanned out the blanket over them and slipped an arm around Gray’s shoulders. “Lemme see?” The kid was clutching a piece of paper, presumably the note Chloe had sent.

  “Oh.” He wet his bottom lip and unfolded the note. “That’s her. Her handwriting.”

  Darius pressed a lingering kiss to Gray’s forehead. Chloe had written a quick “I hope y’all find something that fits,” along with sizes, and then she’d wrapped up the message with “(I love you so much, Gray. I love you, I love you, I love you!)”

  “She really knows I’m okay,” Gray whispered to himself. “She knows.”

  Darius sighed and hugged him to his body. “You’ll see her tomorrow. You realize that now, right? It’s okay to hope.”

  “Don’t—” Gray shook his head, instantly getting choked up. “I’m hanging on by a thread, Darius.”

  “You’re gonna see her tomorrow.” Darius pressed forward and hugged him even harder. “She’s in Florida right now waiting for you.”

  Gray whimpered and tensed up, pushing back, pushing away.

  “You have my word, knucklehead.” Darius refused to give up. The more Gray pulled away, or tried, the tighter Darius held him. “You’re free. You’ll see your family tomorrow. I’ll get you home.”

  “S-Stop.” Gray broke. A hoarse sob racked his body, and Darius swallowed hard, forcing himself to hold back his own emotions. “I miss her so much.”

  “And she can’t wait to see you,” Darius whispered into Gray’s hair. “I swear to you, sweetheart. We’ve got everything planned out from here. You’ll be with her tomorrow around noon.”

  Gray couldn’t respond. He stopped struggling and gave in to the breakdown, and Darius wouldn’t move for anything. He held Gray tightly, murmuring promises he was confident he could keep. At last.

  “Am I really free?”

  “Fuck yeah, you are.”

  Gray hid his face in his hands, tears streaming freely, low sobs shaking him, and curled up in Darius’s embrace.

  “I’ve got you,” Darius whispered thickly. “We’re going home.”

  They reached a small port near midnight. Lights
glittered, a nearby restaurant sent smoke that smelled of grilled seafood their way, shacks and shops were painted in bright colors.

  The distant noise of traffic sounded weird to Darius’s ears. He hadn’t been gone that long, and still…everything had changed. He’d grown used to sand, the sound the wind made in palm trees, and the snick of a knife hitting rock when Fil gutted fish.

  The boys were quiet, tired, yet frazzled and full of anticipation. Everyone had someone they wanted to call immediately. Parents, a sibling, a grandmother.

  Ramirez led the way to a hotel, a small, family-owned place where a man and his wife appeared to know this wasn’t an ordinary reservation. The place was quiet, the two stories nestled in a garden right next to the port, with a private beach and an old wooden sign at the front that welcomed them.

  Three rooms had been booked in Darius’s name.

  Ryan had thrown the hood of his sweater over his head, shielding his face as much as possible.

  To Darius’s relief, Gray wouldn’t leave his side even for a second.

  You dumb fuck.

  He winced. One day, sooner rather than later, it would come back and bite him in the ass. But for now, he needed the closeness too. He needed for Gray to depend on him at least a little.

  On the way up to the rooms, Gray threaded his fingers with Darius’s.

  Ryan caught it and sent Darius a look of warning.

  “Mr. Roe ordered dinner,” the lady said, her island accent thick. “We will bring it soon, yes?”

  “Thanks, we appreciate it. Bring it to that room, please.” Darius nodded at a pale blue door and accepted the keys. Each one had a cluster of shells and coral attached to it. He spoke again once the woman had returned downstairs. “Listen up, boys.” He waited for them to gather around in the narrow hall with creaky floors. “You can split into groups of three…ish. Ramirez, Ry, and I will split up too—”

  “Can we call our families now?” Fil asked hopefully.

  Darius chuckled. “I was getting to that. Yes, take turns to call your families, but remember what we’ve talked about.”

  “We’re sticking to the story,” Owen promised.

  “Don’t talk too long,” Ryan added quietly. “If your folks can come see you, we’ll be staying at Westwater Private in Fort Lauderdale from tomorrow. Once we get to Florida, you can talk whenever you want, but right now, we want you guys rested for the morning. It’s gonna be a long-ass day, and the police will be there as soon as you land.”

  Gray gripped Darius’s hand tighter. He squeezed back in wordless reassurance. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “That about covers it,” Darius said. “Come to my room for dinner when you’re done.” He paused and eyed Fil. “You’re gonna eat slower this time.”

  Fil grinned bashfully, having just gotten over the stomachache six slices of toast had given him on the boat. “That might be a good idea, yes.”

  Darius shook his head in amusement. “All right, go call your parents.”

  “I had a feeling I’d find you out here.” Ryan stepped out onto the dark balcony and sat down in the lounger next to Darius’s.

  He hummed. If he closed his eyes, he was almost back on the island. The wish-wash of the palm trees in the wind, the ocean… But then a car horn would honk, and he was back here.

  Both could fuck off. He wanted his cabin. He wanted the mountains back home.

  “Dinner just got here, but the boys are still on the phone.”

  Yeah, Darius could smell the food. Spices, something grilled, more spices. Something definitely smelled like pizza. “If you’re here to give me a lecture, spare me.”

  Ryan laughed and leaned back, the wood creaking with the shift. He lit up a smoke next and handed one over to Darius, who was more than happy to accept it.

  “We gotta talk about it, Darius.”

  “Do we?” As Darius took a drag, he peered over his shoulder, into the living room area. Gray was on the couch, like he had been ten minutes ago, waiting for his turn on the phone.

  Charlie had suffered a minor breakdown because he hadn’t remembered his mom’s number. Thankfully, Google on Ramirez’s phone had solved that.

  “You can’t have him clinging to you,” Ryan told him soberly. “I know it’s fucking hard. You know I do. But—”

  “I know.” Darius sat back again and bit his tongue. It was a peaceful night; they’d made it out alive. Couldn’t they just…focus on that? For one night. Only one. “Christ.” He blew out a breath as a bolt of annoyance and frustration rushed through him. “I don’t know what it is about him, Ry. It physically hurts to let him outta my sight.”

  The light from the living room gave away the concern in Ryan’s eyes. “Could it be ’cause he’s local? His best friend is dating your buddy, right? There’s a local connection, something that links you together. He’s not just a random client through the firm.”

  Darius shrugged. He didn’t think that was it at all, though he couldn’t say why. “I’ve cared less about girlfriends.”

  “Ha!” Ryan barked out a short laugh. “See, that doesn’t surprise me one bit. You and Ethan have always treated women like they’re a means to an end.”

  Fuck that. Ryan had been deployed the times Darius had been dumped and cheated on. Granted, he was no saint. He’d done the same a few times too. He could go so far as to say he hadn’t been in very healthy relationships. But when he’d found himself with a woman, it’d been because he’d wanted to share something with her.

  Ethan was another matter.

  “How do you think Gray’s gonna handle the aftermath?” Ryan wondered.

  That was something Darius didn’t wanna think about. Mainly because he had a pretty good idea, and he didn’t like it. “He’s definitely a runner.”

  “That sucks.”

  Aye… Gray was eager too. He was probably gonna dive into the rehabilitation process headfirst, and every setback—and there would be countless of them—would be a blow to his already wounded self-esteem.

  “The anger’s gonna break him,” Darius murmured. “On the yacht…” He shook his head and sighed. “No matter what he did, he found something that was wrong. He believes he’s weak.”

  At some point, Gray would likely try to outrun that feeling.

  Darius was more of a fighter. And not necessarily in the sense that he stayed and fought his demons. Rather, he took his anger out on furniture, the occasional wall, and that one time he wrecked Ethan’s truck.

  “How many lines am I crossing if I put a tracker on the kid?” Darius scratched his jaw.

  Ryan snorted. “I think you’re beyond caring about lines.”

  True.

  “Dad’s bottle cap chip?” Ry guessed.

  “That’s a good idea.” Darius should’ve thought about that before. It’d worked on all the Quinn brothers back in the day. There was no reason to suspect it wouldn’t work with Gray. “I’ll put in an order with Ramirez before he’s ghost.” He took a puff from his smoke. “Imagine if Squeezy and Ramirez collaborated.”

  “I’d rather not,” Ry chuckled incredulously. “They’d probably knock out every branch of military intelligence in the country.”

  Darius shot him a sideways grin. “Or Russia’s.”

  “Well, when you put it that way…”

  Behind them, the sliding doors opened, and Gray poked his head out.

  “Um, hi.” He grazed his teeth along his bottom lip, looking unsure. “Is, um, my mom expecting my call?”

  Darius furrowed his brow. “I don’t think so. Why? She not picking up?”

  “No, um—I haven’t called yet.” He cleared his throat and looked down briefly. “Can I wait till I see her? I don’t think I can deal with another breakdown so soon, and—” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder “—everyone’s pretty much crying in here.”

  “Shit,” Ry muttered, putting out his smoke.

  Darius did the same, and both followed Gray inside.

  Crying was putting it mildl
y. Everyone had gathered around the large coffee table where the food had been delivered, though no one was touching anything. And it was a huge, delicious-looking spread. Instead, the boys were taking turns comforting one another.

  “What the fuck do we do?” Ryan muttered under his breath.

  “Hold on.” Darius took a step forward, hesitant, but at the same time not convinced this was a bad thing. “Boys? Are these good tears or bad?”

  There was a collectively wept “Good” from several of them that put Darius and Ryan at ease right away.

  Thank fuck.

  “You all got in touch with your folks?” Ry asked to be sure.

  Nods all around.

  Even Niko was shaken up, and Darius was glad to see the boy let down his guard for a beat.

  “Dare, did any of you give our full names to someone?” Gray asked curiously.

  Darius looked to Ry in question, who nodded and said he’d provided them to Ramirez. Probably to give them to Willow.

  “That explains it,” Gray murmured with a small smile. “My stepsister’s apparently been in contact with everyone except Niko’s brother and Tai’s dad. She couldn’t find them…?” He looked at Fil for confirmation.

  He nodded and wiped at his cheeks. “Yeah. My grandma said Gray’s sister has called around to say that if anyone can’t afford to meet up with us in Florida tomorrow, she’s offering to pay for plane tickets.” He turned to Niko and Tai. “I have a number for you to call if you need help with that.”

  “Well, damn.” Ryan cleared his throat and sniffled, quick to look away. “Reunions, man. They get me every time.”

  Darius smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

  There wasn’t even the slightest doubt about where Gray was gonna sleep that night. Two boys shared the pullout couch in the living room area, and that left one big bed and a lot of privacy in the bedroom. Darius’s head had just landed on the pillow when Gray snuck in and closed the door.

  It’d been an emotional roller coaster all night to see the boys talk about their families, and Darius had run out of things to say. His head was all but empty, so that left body language. As soon as Gray joined him in bed, Darius pulled him close and drew the covers over them.