Moving toward a map framed on the wall, Slone ran his finger along the route they’d taken from Miami, past the Bahamas, then tapped a spot a half inch lower. “There’s a narrow strait running between Cuba and Haiti. Right now I’d say we’re an hour from either shore. In unfriendly waters.”
“How unfriendly?”
“Cuba isn’t known for their hospitality toward Americans. If we send a distress call, there’s a fifty percent chance they’ll ignore us.”
Cade swallowed. “What happens in the other fifty percent?”
A shadow darkened Slone’s eyes. “You don’t want to know.”
“This is serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“Shit.” Cade raked his hands through his hair. “I didn’t think to question Ramos’s origins. If he’s of Cuban descent, we don’t know what we’re up against or who he has ties to here.”
“That’s my concern.” Slone hit his fist against his palm. “I knew there was something cagey about the captain.”
“Are you packing heat?”
Slone flashed the gun on his hip. “Always.”
Nodding, Cade went to the safe in the corner. He punched in the code and retrieved a revolver. “Right now it’s two of us against five crewmembers. If the captain is on Ramos’s payroll, I’ll assume he’s armed. The odds aren’t in our favor.”
“Don’t underestimate the element of surprise.” Slone checked the bullets in his clip and popped the cartridge back into his Glock. “Before I came to you I did a quick recon. Three crewmembers are still asleep in the lower quarters. Captain’s in the control room. Antonio’s on the main deck cleaning. Kid seems harmless enough, but we don’t know what his cut is from Ramos or what part he’s supposed to play in how this goes down.”
Cade turned off all emotion and switched into calculating bounty hunter mode. “I’ll bet Antonio values his life more than a payout.” He tucked the revolver into the back of his jeans, the metal cool against his bare skin. “I’ll pay him twice what Ramos offered to get him on our side. That’s three against four.”
Slone nodded. “I like those odds better. The kid could have valuable information to keep us one step ahead Ramos.”
“Exactly. I’ll handle Antonio, then confront the captain. Think you can handle the crew?”
“You got it, boss.”
“Meet me at the control room when you’re finished. We’ll reassess from there.”
“Done.” Slone slipped quietly from the suite and disappeared down below.
Blood pumping hard, Cade exited his cabin. Ambient light and the first pale slivers of sunrise guided his steps.
Both hands gripping his gun, he ascended to the main deck. He spotted Antonio prepping in the kitchen, dicing vegetables on the counter. The scent of onions hung in the air.
Barefoot, he moved into position soundlessly behind the kid and growled, “Drop the knife. Now.”
Antonio froze. The knife clattered onto the countertop.
“Slowly raise your hands where I can see them.”
Fingers trembling, Antonio complied.
Sliding the knife out of reach, Cade lowered his gun. The kid’s wide dark eyes lifted, and fear flashed in their depths. “You should be afraid. Unless we can make a deal. What is Ramos paying you?”
“Wh-who?” The boy’s voice shivered from his throat.
“Don’t play stupid. That’ll get you killed.”
“Si! Si, okay. Five hundred American dollars.”
“What were your orders?” Cade demanded.
“I do nothing.”
Cade raised his gun.
“Dios! Don’t shoot!” Antonio began to hyperventilate. “I was told,” he choked out, “to do nothing. Look the other way when the boat comes.”
“What boat?” When the kid didn’t answer, Cade said through clenched teeth, “What boat?”
“Ramos tell us at sunrise three men are coming on speedboat. They shoot, we duck. They take the girl, dump you and guard overboard. I say nothing to no one.”
When Cade reached into his back pocket, Antonio leaped away, cowering next to the dishwasher. Cade pulled six hundred-dollar bills from his wallet. “You work for me now.” He tossed the bills in Antonio’s lap. “From here on out you do what I tell you to do. Comprende?”
Antonio nodded vigorously as he collected the bills and clutched them to his chest. “Si, senor.”
Did Ramos actually think that killing him would go unnoticed? Or that he’d get away with it? The guy clearly didn’t know the Soren clan well enough. And he’d greatly underestimated the skill of their bodyguards. “I’ll double the cash you’re holding if you help get us out of this mess. Alive,” Cade stressed.
The kid rose to his feet cautiously. “Tell me what to do, I do it.”
Cade returned the gun to the waist of his jeans. “Make breakfast. Scramble a couple of eggs, whatever, just make it quick. Take it up to the captain, and leave the door open behind you. Duck out fast, so I can take your place in the control room. Then you run and find my guard. Tell him you’re with us, and that I need him on deck, stat,” he said, borrowing Slone’s term. “Think you can handle that?”
“For this money, I handle anything.”
With a curt nod, Cade folded his arms and paced the galley kitchen, keeping an eye on Antonio, while his thoughts turned to Kylie. He prayed he’d worn her out so she’d stay asleep during this coup to take back the ship. The thought of her getting caught in a spray of bullets made him sick with worry.
Protecting her meant more to him than his initial feeling of obligation. More than an old vow not to repeat the past. This had become about his future—their future—and what it could hold once the danger passed. The thought of being with her, waking up and making love to her every morning, stirred a sense of anticipation yet put peace in his restless heart that he’d longed for. Though he didn’t see it at first, Kylie was everything he sought in a woman. Intelligent, driven, passionate. A partner on his wavelength, not just another pretty face to flaunt in front of the cameras. Someone who understood him on a personal, private level that he didn’t share with most people.
Maybe he was ready to consider settling down, settling in for the long haul like his brother Trey. He’d never been able to picture that before today. Not that he was ready to buy a ring and pick out curtains, but she fulfilled a place inside him he hadn’t realized was empty.
He cared about her deeply, and he damn sure wasn’t going to let a criminal like Ramos destroy a possible future they had yet to discover.
Angst twisted his insides, but he forced himself back into the zone of cold, detached action. “Ready?” he barked at Antonio.
The kid produced a plate of sloppy, half-cooked eggs. “Si, senor.”
“Let’s get this over with,” Cade said, prepared to draw blood if it came to that.
Following Antonio up one flight to the Captain’s deck, he remained close at the boy’s heels. “Get down,” Antonio whispered.
Cade hunched out of reflex. “What is it?”
“You are too tall, senor. Bend down or he’ll see you, and no more surprise.”
Cade let Antonio go a few paces ahead of him, then he crouched down and kept to the shadows.
“Buenos dias, Captain,” Antonio said, a little too cheerfully, when he knocked on the cockpit door. “Breakfast?”
The captain muttered something in Spanish. Eventually he unlocked the control room to let the boy inside.
As instructed, Antonio left the door wide open so Cade could make his move.
Adrenaline rushed through his veins. He burst into the cockpit, gun steady and aimed at the captain. “Step away from the controls.”
The plate fell from the captain’s hands. Ceramic shattered on the floor.
Ignoring the gun to his head, the man slammed down a lever and the boat ground to a halt, knocking Cade sideways against the window. The captain pounded his fist against two buttons before he raced out.
Cade
shook off the blow and wheeled to charge. Just in time to see the captain trip over Antonio’s extended foot and fall flat on his face.
Cade arched an eyebrow. “Nice.”
Antonio grinned.
After he waved the boy away to go find Slone, Cade lowered, putting all his weight on the knee he ground into the captain’s back. The man howled and kicked.
Cade cocked his gun. “This nothing compared to the pain of a bullet tearing through your skull.”
The captain stopped flailing.
“Why did you take us off course?” Cade asked.
The man shook his head. “We are on course. To the Virgin Islands.”
“Bullshit.” Cade dug his knee deeper into the man’s spine.
Letting out a pitiful wail, the captain changed his answer. “A small detour. Nothing to be alarmed about. There were rough seas ahead.”
“Things are about to get rougher in your brief future if you aren’t straight with me,” Cade snarled.
An evil smirk twisted the captain’s lips. “No, your brief future, baboso.”
Cade heard the drone of a motorboat in the distance. Sound traveling across water was deceiving, and he couldn’t tell how near the boat was or from which direction it came.
Envisioning the map Slone had used to indicate their location, Cade risked taking his eye off the captain to peer over the starboard side facing Cuba. What looked like a small spear was cutting through the waves—heading right for the yacht.
A curse ripped from Cade’s chest. “Where in the hell are you, Slone?”
“You called?” Slone’s voice rumbled behind him.
Cade glanced up at his bodyguard. “We have a bigger problem than mutiny.” He pointed at the approaching boat. “Ramos sent reinforcements to finish the job.”
Slone’s eyes widened a fraction. “Fuck.”
“Pretty much.” Cade wiped his forehead. “Happen to bring an AK forty-seven with you?”
“No, but we could use that right about now.” Slone narrowed his eyes. “Since there’s a bazooka mounted on the back of the speedboat, aimed right at us.”
Cade gulped. “You’re kidding.”
“Wish I was.”
“You can see that far?”
“Wish I couldn’t.” Slone shifted his focus to the current problem. “Get up,” he said.
Cade dislodged his knee from the captain’s back and stood. “What should we do with him?”
“Put him out with the rest of the trash.”
Slone picked up the captain by the back of his pants and shirt collar. He spun in a circle twice like a shot put athlete and launched the captain overboard. A muted splash came from the water below.
Impressed, Cade nodded. “If nothing else, Rowan, you’re efficient.”
“I’m about to be burnt toast if they release that missile before they’re in range of my Glock.” He dropped below the seats that lined the railing. “Antonio’s on our side, right?”
“He’s on the side of dollar signs, so yes.”
“Find him. Tell him to grab the fifty caliber in my black duffel—the smaller bag. Then I need you here with me for backup.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you had a weapons cache?”
“That’s the only long range gun I packed. Hell, just tell him to bring the whole damn bag. In case we live long enough for hand to hand combat. And put on a shirt, for God’s sake.”
Cade gaped. “You’re worried about my attire?”
“A bare chest makes you look more vulnerable.”
“Point taken. Be back in a sec.”
“If we have that long,” Slone muttered, his eyes as dark and flat as the metal of his gun.
Cade crouched on his way to the stairs then thundered down to the main deck. As he rounded the corner, he smacked into Kylie, knocking her to the ground.
“Jesus.” He scooped her up and deposited her on the bed in their room. He threw on a hooded sweatshirt and zipped it up. “You need to get dressed. Immediately.”
“Cade, what’s happening?” Though he heard the tears in her voice, he couldn’t stop to assuage her fears.
“No time to explain.” He tossed a lifejacket to her. “When you’re dressed, strap that on. And take this.” He handed his pistol to her, guessing Slone had a better arsenal in the duffel bag. “Don’t be afraid. Slone and I have this under control.”
“Have what under control?” She stood before him in a t-shirt and shorts, her cheeks striped with pink. His awareness of her vulnerability socked him in the gut and he nearly doubled over. “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?”
“Just stay put, baby. Please.” He kissed her fiercely. “When I leave, lock the door behind me. Don’t let anyone in. And don’t come out, no matter what you hear.” He cupped her face and kissed her again. He hugged her so tightly she gasped, until he forced himself to let go and headed out to find Antonio.
On second thought, he decided against arming his new recruit and retrieved Slone’s duffel himself. An extra two minutes wouldn’t alter their fate that drastically.
When he reached the captain’s deck, he wondered if his split-second decision would cost them their lives.
Chapter 9
“Get your ass over here,” Slone roared. “I needed you two minutes ago.” He glanced around. “Where’s the kid?”
Cade dropped the duffel and crouched beside him. “I didn’t feel like testing his loyalty by sending him on a weapons run.”
“You’re smarter than you look, chief.”
Arching an eyebrow, Cade said, “Considering the circumstances, I’ll let that one slide.”
“I don’t have time to spare your feelings. I’m busy saving our asses.” Slone stretched out his palm. “Hand me the fifty. You take the magnum.”
Guns in hand, poised and ready, Cade peered over the ledge. “Care to let me in on the plan?”
“Sure, when I have one.”
Cade gritted his teeth. “We’re staring down the barrel of a bazooka and you don’t have an endgame?”
“A pay bump goes a long way toward a plan.”
“Not funny,” Cade snapped.
Slone smirked. “A little funny.”
“Really? Gallows humor, now?”
“That’s the point of it.” Slone rolled his eyes. “I’d rather be smiling during my last seconds on earth.”
“I’d rather be breathing.”
“Yeah, I guess it’ll be tough to cash in the bonus you’re giving me if I’m dead.”
“You’re a sick man.” Despite their dire situation, Cade found his lips curving upward. “I like that about you.”
“Not so bad yourself, chief. I could die next to you if I had to.”
“How about you make a plan so you don’t,” Cade growled.
“I had a plan the second I heard about the other boat. Just giving you shit to see how you’d take it.”
Seething, Cade shook his head. “Why does everyone think I need more of that?”
“True, we’re standing in it pretty deep. Whoa, heads up.”
Cade tensed. “What?”
“They’re loading the cannon.”
“How can you tell?” Cade asked, closing one eye as he focused his gaze through the sight of his magnum.
Slone scoffed. “All those greenbacks lining your pocket, and you couldn’t afford Lasik?”
“Yes, I’ve had sight-correction surgery. But I’m not half eagle, blessed with ten/ten vision like you.”
“Right now, it ain’t a blessing. I wish I couldn’t see what’s coming our way.” Slone pivoted on his elbows as if they were a stand for a sniper rifle. “Okay, chief. Aim for the prow and fire.”
“The prow?”
“Just do it.”
Cade aimed and pulled the trigger. The nose of the speedboat lifted up on a wave at the second of impact. He bellowed a curse. The kickback from the gun was more powerful than he’d expected, having only fired a magnum twice at the shooting range. He recovered fast and r
egained his muscle memory to rebalance the weapon’s power for another shot.
“No, that’s good,” Slone said, flicking two fingers toward the target. “Keep firing. Fill that hunk of metal with holes. If we’re going down, we’re sinking ‘em with us.”
In a snap instant, Cade understood the plan. He emptied his clip into the speedboat, though it kept coming at them with full fury.
“Reload. There’s more ammo in my duffel.”
With a nod, Cade swiftly refilled the cartridge and snapped it back into place. He emptied another round, ignoring the man behind the bazooka who abandoned the missile launcher to prop a machine gun on his shoulder. No way would they risk destroying the yacht now, he thought. With their boat full of holes, they needed the yacht intact, if they wanted to sail home instead of swim…effectively turning them into sitting seagulls in the water ripe for target practice.
Through the scope, he spotted the guy at the front of the boat dive overboard. The taste of triumph rolled across his tongue like good scotch.
“Oh, shit. Duck,” Slone shouted.
As his chest hit the floor, Cade heard a volley of bullets pelt the yacht. One pinged off the railing and grazed his shoulder, leaving a sharp burning sensation, and faint wetness, in its wake.
With the amount of adrenaline spiraling through him, he barely felt the impact.
“You hit?” Slone asked.
“Nah, I’m good. Merely a flesh wound.”
“Monty Python and gallows humor. You’d make a good soldier, chief.”
“Thanks. Would you take the bastard out already?”
“Plan to, since they just came within range for guaranteed accuracy.”
“Then guarantee his head blown off.”
“Yes, sir.” Slone fired a shot that nearly deafened Cade. A pause, then a second shot. Another pause. Slone raised his gun and blew across the barrel. “Smoked ‘em.”
Cade cautiously lifted his head. “No shit.”
“Yes, shit.” An expression of pride slid onto Slone’s features. “And you’ll be talking plenty of it when we get back to the ranch, when you’re in your fancy office meetings with investors, telling them how you singlehandedly fended off the invaders to protect your lady love.”
Cade snorted. “I’ll give you partial credit. Just to make it fair.”
The Billionaire's Prize: Taken & Tempted: (Book 3 Billionaire Bodyguard Series) Page 13