Safe and Coasting with Ecstasy [The Heroes of Silver Island 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

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Safe and Coasting with Ecstasy [The Heroes of Silver Island 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 13

by Tonya Ramagos


  Glad that Rhett had someone to talk to, she fixed her attention back on the sky and continued to walk. She would take a little more time, maybe wait until the sun was high in the sky, and then she’d go back to the cottage, wake Mett and Charlie if they were still sleeping, and tell them what she’d decided. She would hurt them. She had to be prepared for that. They would probably argue, too, at least until they realized what she was doing was for the best.

  Resigning herself to her fate, she let a few more tears fall before wiping them away. She prayed she would be able to hold herself together until she convinced them to leave her cottage. Then she could fall apart and stay for as long as she needed to get past the pain of giving up the men she loved.

  She jolted from her dismal thoughts when an arm snaked tightly around her shoulders as a man came up beside her.

  “Scream and I’ll snap your neck.” As if to prove he could do it, his hand covered her throat and squeezed hard enough to make her head fill with pressure.

  Fear turned Kimberly’s blood to ice. She stopped walking, only to stumble a couple of steps when the man used his arm to yank her forward.

  “Keep walking,” the menacing male voice demanded. “Look at me and smile like you know me.”

  Did she know him? He used his hold on her neck to turn her head toward him. She found herself staring at a face she didn’t recognize. She sliced her attention to her right, catching Rhett’s figure out of the corner of her eye. He was making his way up the beach back to the street.

  The hand covering her neck tightened, the fingers digging into her flesh and making it harder to breathe. “Bitch, you better fucking smile.”

  She forced a shaky smile to her lips as Rhett shot a glance back at her over his shoulder before continuing to walk away. Why was he leaving her? Why had he let this man come up behind her?

  Her mind reeled as she focused on the man. Deep lines, wrinkles, and scars that spoke of a hard life marred his face. As she looked closer, she realized who the man had to be. It was his eyes that did it. Though they were staring back at her with a crazed evil in their depths instead of the softness and compassion she was used to, she’d only met one man in her life with those same wintergreen eyes and she’d left that man sleeping in her cottage.

  * * * *

  “Wake up.”

  The sharp command pulled Charlie from sleep and something soft smacked his face. He groaned and started to roll over when Mett’s next words has his eyes flying open, only to find the world still bathed in darkness.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  Charlie realized the something covering his face was his shirt and he tossed it aside as he sat up. Kimberly wasn’t in bed next to him. That was the first thing that caught his attention. Neither was Mett, as far as that went. His brother was standing on the side of the bed, fully dressed, his lips set in a grim line.

  “What did she find this time?”

  Confusion overtook Mett’s expression. “What are you talking about?”

  “The last time you said those words to me was the night you showed up at my place after you found the first note on Kimberly’s car.”

  Understanding dawned in Mett’s eyes and he shook his head. “Not that kind of problem.” He poked a finger into his chest. “I’m the problem this time.”

  Charlie raked a hand down his face. “What the hell are you talking about? And where is Kimberly?”

  “She went for a walk on the beach.”

  Charlie stiffened. “You let her go alone? What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “She’s not alone and I didn’t let her go anywhere.” Mett’s closed briefly and he pushed a hard breath from his lungs. “I woke up when she got out of bed this morning. She was doing her damnedest not to wake either one of us. I figured she was going into the kitchen to make coffee. When I heard the front door open a few minutes later, I got up and looked out the window. I saw her walking with a deputy down the passage to the beach between the two cottages across the street.”

  “Okay,” Charlie said slowly as his still-groggy mind tried to keep up. “She went for a walk on the beach without telling either of us, but she had the sense enough to take a sheriff’s deputy with her.” He slanted his brother a look. “I’m not seeing a problem here, bro.”

  “I told you I’m the problem.” Mett sighed again, sat on the edge of the bed, and leaned forward, covering his forehead with his hand. “I fucked up last night. I didn’t handle it right and I think she knows it.”

  “Will you stop speaking in riddles and spit it out, Emmett. It’s too damn early in the morning for this shit.”

  “I got jealous watching her with you.”

  Charlie barked a half-laugh. “Hell, I got jealous watching her with you, but we both had our time with her and I stopped counting how many orgasms we gave her after five.”

  Mett shook his head. “That’s just it. We were both in the same room with her last night. We took turns with her, but we didn’t share her. There’s a big difference and I’m pretty sure she felt it.”

  “We don’t have to make love to her at the same time to share her, man.” Although the image that flashed through Charlie’s mind of her riding Mett when he plunged his cock deep in her ass made all the blood in his body start to head to the stiffening destination between his legs.

  “No, but if we’re going to do this, we have to show her that we’re in this together. That we’re both trying to make the threesome work. Not that we’re going to be good little boys and stand around waiting for our turn.”

  Charlie covered another laugh with a cough. “Look, bro, I know you had some trouble with it last night. So did I.”

  Mett turned his head, sliding him a sideways look. “You didn’t show it as much as I did.”

  Charlie lifted a shoulder. “I’m a less emotional creature than you are. I tend to hide the mushy shit I feel better than you do.” He waited a beat and then asked the question that was most important on his mind. “Was last night it for you? Are you saying you can’t go through with the ménage?”

  Mett shook his head. “I’m saying exactly the opposite. I woke up this morning next to the woman I love with a man that I love just as much, obviously not in the same way, on the other side of her. That’s when it really clicked. It felt…right. She’s the one for both of us. We already knew that and we already knew we were the men for her, but the three of us together, that’s what makes it right. It’s like we complete each other.” He straightened, slapped his palms on his thighs, and pushed to his feet. “And, damn, I really am letting all the mushy shit out, aren’t I?”

  Charlie grinned from ear to ear at him. “Yeah, I’m drowning in it, dude. It’s okay, though. I’m glad you had this epiphany.”

  “Me, too. Now how in the hell do I let her know I had it?”

  “Well, you could tell her all that mumbo jumbo you just said to me or we can show her together.” Charlie drew his brows together. “Of course, to do that, we’ve got to find her first.”

  “If you would get your ass out of bed and get dressed, we would’ve found her already.”

  Charlie covered his heart with his hand as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have this touching moment.”

  Mett rolled his eyes and Charlie heard him snort a laugh as he walked out of the room.

  About time the dipshit got his head on straight, Charlie thought as he pulled his shirt over his head. He found his jeans draped over the back of a chair in the corner. He didn’t know how they’d gotten there, but that was least of his concerns. Finding Kimberly and getting her back in bed between him and Mett was the first thing on his agenda this morning. Making love to her right with his brother’s hands all over her sexy body would come next.

  “What the?” he heard Mett mutter and then watched the front door fly open as his brother wrenched it open, nearly pulling the damn thing off its hinges.

  “What’s up?” Charlie padded barefoot after his brother, who ob
viously hadn’t heard him because he was already on his way out the door. He lengthened his stride, reaching the doorway just as he saw Mett face off with a sheriff’s deputy.

  “Where’s Kimberly?” Mett demanded.

  The deputy didn’t flinch at Mett’s tone. Instead, he extended a hand. “I’m Deputy Rhett Letson. We passed one another at the department the other night, but we weren’t formally introduced.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what your name is. Where is Kimberly?”

  The deputy lowered his hand and Charlie saw a muscle tick in the man’s jaw. Still, he answered Mett’s fury with a calm, practiced tone. “She’s walking on the beach. I went with her for a while and then your father showed up. He assured me he would stay with her and bring her back here in a little while.”

  Their father? Charlie bounded down the steps and reached the deputy and his brother before either of them could blink. “What do you mean our father showed up?”

  Mett had already pulled out his cell, obviously calling home.

  “What did the man say?” Charlie asked.

  A dart of alarm shot through the deputy’s eyes. “He came up to me on the beach. Kimberly seemed to have some heavy stuff on her mind this morning and she wanted some space. I let her walk ahead of me, but I keeping an eye on her. Your father said he’d seen us when we crossed the street from the cottage. I thought it was a little odd that he’d be out here this early, but he said he’d wanted to come out to the island and see the three of you before he headed out on an assignment with the Coast Guard.”

  “Our father isn’t in the Coast Guard anymore.” The first slivers of true fear unlike anything he’d ever experience raked down his spine. “He’s retired.”

  “And he’s at home right now in Waterston where he’s supposed to be,” Mett reported as he hung up his cell.

  Charlie glanced at him. “It’s not Dad?” He’d already known it couldn’t be.

  “No, it’s not Dad,” Mett answered, his teeth so tight it was a wonder the words had made it through clearly.

  “What did this guy look like?” Charlie asked the deputy.

  “Like an older, more out-of-shape version of him.” The deputy pointed to Mett. “Even had the same color eyes.”

  Charlie briefly closed his own eyes as realization dawned. “Radio the sheriff. Tell him to call the state pen and find out if Walsh is still a resident there and, if not, when the fuck was he released.” He turned to look at Mett, but his brother was already halfway across the street, breaking for the beach in a dead run. “Tell John that Mack Snider is not the fucker we’re after,” he called back over his shoulder as he followed Mett. “And get him to send backup.”

  * * * *

  “You won’t get away with this.” Kimberly raised her voice to be heard over the boat motor as Buster Walsh kicked it into high gear, taking them further and further into the Gulf, away from the island. He’d stolen the first boat he’d come across, a Pro Sport Center Console belonging to the Parsons that had been docked behind their cottage not far from where he’d come up to her on the beach. She’d tried to fight him when he’d yanked her off her feet and tossed her like a sack of potatoes into the boat. That show of bravery had earned her a punch to the side of her head that still had her chimes ringing.

  Walsh looked at her from behind the steering wheel, a portentous smile tilting his lips. “I never said I would.”

  Kimberly drew her brows together, regretting the movement when it shot pain through her already aching forehead. Christ, it felt like he’d cracked her skull with that blow to her cheek. Her whole face hurt from the roots of her hair to chin. “You want to get caught?”

  “As soon as I get what I’m after, I’ll go back to prison with a smile on my face. It’s nice there, no slutty bitches trying to give a man orders and fuck with his life.” Walsh shook his head. “The world out here ain’t what it’s supposed to be anymore, hasn’t been in a long time. The damn government has given bitches too many rights. The only damn right they deserve is to keep their filthy mouths shut and do what their man tells them to do.”

  Mett had been right. The man who had provided the sperm that created him was a very shitty, violent, fucked-up piece of work. “What are you after?”

  “I’m gonna see that son of a bitch gets what’s been coming to him for the last twenty-eight years.” Walsh shook his head. “Never should’ve been born. I told Hazel, if she ever got herself knocked up, I’d kill it even if I had to kill her, too. I tried, but the bitch got away from me. Ended up killing two other people instead. That’s what landed me in heaven.” His expression hardened with pure hatred and madness. “Couldn’t get the peace there I deserved knowing that son of a bitch was out here living.”

  “How can you say that about your own son? Children are our legacy. They’re proof we existed after we’re gone from this life.”

  Walsh rolled his eyes. “Fucking bitches always running off at the mouth. If I didn’t need to steer this boat right now, I’d shut that trap for you.”

  “Emmett is your son, your flesh and blood.”

  “That weak sap ain’t nothing of mine. I’ve watched him. Ever since they pushed me out of the prison, I’ve watched him. He’s as much of a bitch as his mother. He’s a disgrace to men.” He pointed a finger at her. “You’ll see. Just wait until he realizes I’ve got you. He’ll coming looking for you.” He turned, looking back at the distance he’d put between the boat and the island. “We’re gonna see how far he’ll swim to save you. Then, just when he thinks he’ll make it in time, I’ll show him he’s wrong. He’s such a bitch watching you die will make him cry like a baby.” He shook his head again, his eyes filling with crazed evil. “A bitch can’t swim worth a shit when he’s too busy balling his eyes out.”

  * * * *

  Mett spotted the Pro Sport Center Console speeding away from the island less than a half a mile ahead. He yanked off his jacket, pausing his run a fraction of a heartbeat to wrench off his shoes, and then kicked up sand behind him as he mentally braced his body for the task ahead of him. He heard Charlie calling after him, but he ignored his brother, turning his attention inward as he focused. He ruthlessly squashed the fear coursing through his veins, not allowing himself to wonder what Walsh had done or planned to do to Kimberly. He called upon all the strength and endurance he’d built over his years as a rescue swimmer, channeling his mind into the zone, and waded into the cold waters of the Gulf.

  Running scenarios though his mind, he took note that he wasn’t in the proper dress for the upcoming swim, nor did he have the necessary equipment. He didn’t let doubts about his abilities to do what he had to do without it form. As he reached deep enough water, he took a deep breath and dove beneath the surface, telling himself the swim to the boat would be no more of a challenge than the countless training exercises and rescue missions he’d performed in his Coast Guard career.

  Coming up for air every twenty-five yards, he made sure the boat was still in his sights before diving again. Walsh had taken the boat a good two miles or more from the shore, but it seemed to have slowed down. Mett did, too. Several yards from the boat, he treaded the water as he mulled over the best course of action. He wouldn’t be able to board the boat without drawing Walsh’s attention. He didn’t give a shit about that, especially if it meant Walsh’s attention was no longer focused on Kimberly.

  Walsh’s back was to him as he stood in front of Kimberly. Mett watched, fury renewing in his veins, as he fucker yanked Kimberly to her feet, pulled back a fist and landed it in her belly. He started to dive again, to hell with being seen or not, when Buster turned, his gaze seeming to sweep the water before locking onto something on Mett’s left.

  Mett followed the direction of Walsh’s gaze, saw someone else come up for air before sinking beneath the surface again, and looked back at the boat in time to see Walsh hurl Kimberly off her feet and throw her overboard. Fuck!

  The word screamed in his mind over and over again as Mett dove be
neath the surface, knowing he’d swim faster under the water. He tried to push his personal feelings aside and treat the moment like any other rescue. It was impossible to do. This wasn’t just any other rescue. This was his woman, the love of his life, he was attempting to save. He didn’t know how strong of a swimmer she was or how long she could hold her breath. He could only pray she could do both good enough and long enough for him to make it to her.

  Running on sheer adrenaline, training, determination, and hope, Mett gave the water everything he had. He came up for air, spotted Kimberly frantically swimming in the opposite direction of the boat, and realized Walsh had changed the boat’s course. The bastard was intending to run Kimberly over with the boat.

  Mett heard the boat’s engine kick into high gear, saw it rapidly start to close in the distance, and pushed himself his hardest yet. His muscles burned, his eyes stung from the saltwater, and his heart beat triple time in his chest. He saw Kimberly start to tread water several feet from the boat had been, watched as her eyes widened at the realization that the boat was headed toward her, and shouted for her to swim toward him.

  She couldn’t hear him over the roar of the boat engine, but the frenzied look she shot around pegged him in the next instant. As if subliminally reading his mind, her arms stroked the water toward him, making good pace, but not good enough.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boat shift course once more and locked his gaze on what he could see of the steering cabin. John Cabelly had made it onto the boat. He saw the sheriff wrestling with Walsh and didn’t have a doubt in his mind the former SEAL would win. He’d also succeeded in the one thing he’d needed to do most at that moment. He’d gotten the boat off Mett’s and Kimberly’s track.

 

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