Even though it was killing Rhys to let Dylan live even a second longer, he summoned all of his patience and silently moved down the length of the catwalk.
As he neared the end, Rhys saw what Dylan was leading Tessa toward. Moored just outside the back door was a fair-sized yacht. It probably wasn’t Boyd’s biggest, but it looked perfect for a long trip.
So that’s what Boyd was up to.
He was going to hide her from the rest of the world by anchoring her a few hundred miles off the California coast. It was a hell of a plan. One that would work perfectly, assuming Rhys didn’t get on that ship before they did.
Rhys looked over at Mason.
Cover me, he mouthed, pointing down to the large group of guards at the front of the warehouse.
Mason nodded. He turned and disappeared out the side door. A few seconds later, Rhys heard a couple of shots ping off the massive roll up door. Soon after, more joined in.
It seemed that Carter hadn’t wasted anytime scrambling reinforcements. It had to be the local PD, and they’d arrived just in time.
It was just the distraction that Rhys needed.
All the guards, including the ones surrounding Tessa, ran to the front of the warehouse. Just Boyd and Dylan kept Tessa moving toward the ship.
Rhys sprung into action.
He climbed up on the catwalk railing and jumped out. His arms wrapped around a chain hanging from the ceiling, and he held on as he slid down to the floor below. The second his feet touched the ground, Rhys took off running toward the yacht.
He was behind. Too far behind.
Boyd and Dylan made it on long before him and Rhys saw them push Tessa below deck. Two crewmen threw off the bow lines as the engines roared to life.
He pushed himself to go faster.
The ship had just started to pull away as Rhys hit the dock. He dove the last few feet, landing hard on the deck of the yacht and rolling to a stop.
The crewmen turned to him in surprise. One reached inside his jacket, probably for a gun.
But Rhys was quicker. His weapon was already out and trained on the man’s chest.
Both crewmen froze instantly.
“Hands in the air,” Rhys said, and they complied. “Now, jump.”
“W-what?” one of the men asked.
“Jump or die,” Rhys said, his voice cold and clear. “Those are your choices.”
Neither one had to think long before diving over the side of the ship and into the cold, murky bay.
Both men bobbed up in the churning water as the yacht pulled further out to sea. Along the shore Rhys could see the blue and red flashing lights of half a dozen police cars. The distant sound of wailing sirens told him there were more on the way.
Mason could deal with the authorities. It was just another thing that he excelled at.
Rhys gripped the gun tighter in his hand as he turned around to face the staircase that Dylan had pushed Tessa down.
He had his own problems to deal with.
Chapter Fourteen
“He’s up there, you know,” Tessa said, as she came to a stop at the bottom of the steep flight of stairs.
Dylan’s fingers twisted deeper into her arm before he tossed her to the side in frustration. Tessa caught herself on the lip of a table, knocking several vials and jars off the top.
“Be careful,” Boyd snapped at him. “I didn’t go to all the trouble of creating this lab just to have you level it.”
Tessa glanced around the room as she steadied herself. The son of a bitch had really done it. He’d turned the entire lower level of his yacht into a copy of her lab back at SciGen headquarters.
It wasn’t an exact match of course. The space was smaller, more cramped, but all the vital equipment was here, everything that she could possibly need to recreate Project Exodus. It seemed Boyd hadn’t overlooked a single thing.
Except Rhys.
Judging by his calm demeanor, Boyd was still seriously underestimating what Rhys was capable of.
Dylan, on the other hand, was not. He swiveled around to face Boyd with a severe look.
“If she’s right, and Rhys is up there, then a couple of glass bottles are the least of your worries,” Dylan growled.
“There’s no way Mr. Vaughn made it on board,” Boyd said, waving his hand dismissively. “We pulled away before he could reach the dock.”
“Better pray that you’re right,” Dylan said.
But it didn’t look like Dylan was taking any chances. He gripped his gun tight as he stared up at the ceiling.
But Tessa already knew who was up there. She could feel hope blossoming in the center of her chest.
He’d come for her.
“Of course, I’m right,” Boyd started. “I’m always ri—”
His words died as the lights overhead cut out, plunging them into darkness.
A second later, the hum of the engines stopped. Tessa had to grab on to the side of the workstation as the ship’s speed slowed dramatically. She couldn’t help the smile that came over her face as they came to a dead stop.
“I told you he was up there,” Tessa said.
“Shut up,” Boyd snarled next to her. She could hear him rummaging around in one of the cupboards.
Tessa blinked as, a second later, Boyd switched on a battery operated lantern. Its sickly yellow glow wasn’t strong enough to fill the entire room. All it managed to do was cast menacing shadows across Boyd’s face as he walked through the cabin and placed it on the tabletop.
He gave another dark scowl as he reached over her for the handheld radio that was hooked onto the wall.
“Captain,” Boyd said as he pressed down on the large black button on the side. “What’s our status?”
Silence.
“Captain,” he tried again after a few seconds had passed.
Still nothing.
Tessa held her breath as she watched the perpetual confidence begin to fade from Boyd’s eyes.
Tessa’s satisfaction at his distress was short-lived though.
He tossed down the radio and grabbed her with both hands, clutching her in front of him like a shield, before turning to Dylan.
“So, what the hell are you waiting for?” Boyd shouted. “Get up there and take care of this problem.”
“And make myself a clear target for him?” Dylan said, his eyes narrowing. “Only an idiot would do that, sir.”
“Well, we can’t just sit here and wait for him to attack,” he said.
Tessa could feel Boyd’s hands shaking on her shoulders. He was scared. More than that, he was unsure. That had to be a first. Anders Boyd was never in doubt.
Never.
“Why not?” Dylan said. “There’s only one door. One way in and out of this room. This is the most defensible position on the entire ship.”
“Then give me a damned weapon to defend myself with,” Boyd demanded.
Dylan pulled his gaze away from the ceiling long enough to unholster one of the many pistols at his side. He gave Boyd a long, assessing look before placing the gun in his palm.
“Do you have any idea how to use that?” Dylan asked.
“I’ve been running a Fortune 500 company for over twenty years,” Boyd rolled his eyes. “I think I can figure out how a trigger works.”
Tessa swallowed down past the lump in her throat as she felt some of Boyd’s confidence return.
“You know you won’t be able to stop him with that,” Tessa said, though the words were more to reassure herself than to frighten Boyd.
In the end, they didn’t really succeed at either.
Boyd wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled his head in close to her cheek.
“Really?” Boyd said against her ear. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up too high, my dear. You might enjoy thinking of your lover as Superman, but I know for a fact that he bleeds just like the rest of us.”
The cabin went quiet after that. All of them turned their faces up to the ceiling and waited, listening for the sounds of m
ovement above.
Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Still, there was nothing but silence.
They’d all begun to relax again when they heard it—hard, steady footsteps. There was no hesitation in the stride, no fear, as they came right up to the edge of the door at the top of the stairs.
Everyone in the room tensed. Dylan’s arms straightened out in front of him. Boyd’s grip on her tightened. Anticipation filled the room.
Another second of strained silence ticked by.
Finally, Dylan snapped under the pressure.
“I’m only going to give you one warning, Rhys,” Dylan called out. “Touch that door, and I will open fire.”
While Dylan was busy playing offense, Boyd switched to defense. He lifted the gun in his hand to Tessa’s temple, digging it in hard.
She struggled to draw in a breath as she tried to peer through the murky light of the cabin.
The tension was killing her. Tessa wasn’t sure she believed Boyd would really put a bullet in her brain, but she knew that Dylan was good to his word. The moment Rhys opened that door this room was going to light up with gunfire.
Which meant they were at an impasse. One that Tessa couldn’t see any way out of.
Another long minute passed, and just when Tessa didn’t think that she could take the strain anymore, the cabin door flew open.
True to his word, Dylan opened fire immediately.
Tessa screamed as a body crashed down the stairs, taking bullet after bullet. It smashed into Dylan, knocking him down and tossing his gun to the side.
Tessa tried to pull away from Boyd’s grip, but he held her tight.
It wasn’t until Dylan struggled to sit up, knocking the body onto its back, that she realized that it wasn’t Rhys.
It was another man entirely. Someone in a blue uniform that she didn’t recognize.
The captain of the ship.
Dylan struggled to slough the limp body off of him and get to another weapon, but it was too late.
Rhys was already halfway down the stairs, his gun drawn. He pulled the trigger once, striking Dylan in the shoulder.
Dylan howled in pain and looked up at Rhys with an expression of pure hatred, seething anger.
Rhys’ face showed no emotion as he slowly made his way down into the cabin.
“Don’t move,” he said, keeping his gun trained on Dylan.
“You son of a bitch,” Dylan spat up at him. “You’ve always thought that you were so much better than me. Why?”
Tessa bit into her lip as she watched Dylan’s hand begin to slide down the side of his thigh toward a holster.
“Don’t do it,” Rhys warned again.
Tessa swallowed down. She wanted to clench her eyes shut, but somehow they refused to close.
“You’re not. I’ve seen the things you’ve done, Rhys. We’re the same you and me,” Dylan kept going. “You might have Tessa fooled, but not me. There’s no redemption for monsters like us.”
“Stop, Dylan,” Rhys said, his voice shaking slightly, but his hands remained steady.
“Go to hell, Rhys,” Dylan shouted as his finger flicked at the strap securing his sidearm. “Go straight to—”
The flash from the shot briefly lit up the room.
Dylan slumped to the ground. His head lolled back, showing a perfectly circular wound dead in the center of his forehead.
Tessa gasped as she turned her face away, but it was too late. The image was already seared deep in her mind.
Rhys took a deep breath and let it out before turning toward her.
“Are you okay, Tessa,” he asked as if Boyd wasn’t even there.
“Y-yeah,” she said. “I’m fine.”
Rhys nodded once before turning his cold gaze toward Boyd.
“Let her go,” he said.
“And give up my only advantage?” Boyd said. “I think we’re both smart enough to know that isn’t going to happen.”
“Just like I know you’re not going to shoot her,” Rhys said.
“I don’t know,” Boyd said, pressing the gun harder against her temple. “I wouldn’t underestimate my desire to survive, Mr. Vaughn.”
Rhys’ eyes narrowed, his stare sharpening. In the faint, eerie glow of the lantern he looked every inch the heartless monster that Dylan had accused him of being.
But he was her monster.
“I never planned on killing you, Boyd,” Rhys said slowly, drawing out his words as he approached them. Boyd skittered back a step, moving into a corner. “That mercy was for Dylan alone. You remember all that research you did on me, all the reasons you wanted to hire me? Well here I am, ready to show you all my little tricks up close and personal. And I swear that if you don’t let Tessa go right now, I will keep you on this little floating torture chamber of yours, listening to you scream and beg for mercy, until you no longer remember your name.”
The gun started to tremble against Tessa’s skull.
She couldn’t blame Boyd for his fear. Rhys was terrifying. And it didn’t sound like he was bluffing.
“You won’t do anything to me as long as I have her,” Boyd said.
Rhys stepped closer. Boyd’s finger tightened around the trigger. Rhys froze.
“See,” Boyd said, his voice dripping with hysterical satisfaction.
“You can’t stay like this forever,” Rhys said.
And neither could Tessa. This struggle was killing her.
Maybe that was the answer. To stop struggling.
Tessa locked gazes with Rhys. She held her fingers up—one, two three—then looked pointedly to the floor. He gave her a long look before nodding almost imperceptibly.
Okay, this better work.
She counted off on her fingers.
One...
Two...
Three...
Tessa let her body go as limp as a rag doll. Boyd wasn’t prepared for the sudden change in weight. For a second her chin caught on his forearm, but he couldn’t manage to keep her upright in such an awkward position. Eventually a gap opened, and Tessa slid through.
The moment her butt hit the floor, Rhys fired his shot.
Boyd crashed to the floor behind her.
His screams echoed through the room, so Tessa figured Rhys was good to his word. He wasn’t planning on killing him.
Tessa didn’t turn around to see how bad it was though. She sprung to her feet and rushed straight to Rhys. He wrapped his arms around her as she buried her face against his chest, relishing the feel of him. Underneath her ear, she could hear the pounding of his heart, hard and fast. Deep down, under that cold exterior he’d been just as frightened as her…and now he was just as relieved.
Another wail filled the room, and Tessa glanced over toward Boyd.
“What are we going to do with him?”
Rhys pulled a zip-tie from his back pocket as he strode over to Boyd. He wrenched the man’s hands behind his back before securing them. Then Rhys pulled off his shirt and wrapped it around the wound on Boyd’s arm.
“That ought to hold until we can get him to the authorities,” he said. A moment later, the sound of a powerful motor made its way down the stairs. “Or they find their way to us.”
“The cops?” Tessa asked.
“The Coast Guard more likely,” Rhys said as he guided her toward the staircase and out into the fresh air on deck. “Carter isn’t known for doing anything by halves.”
Sure enough, when they stepped out into the sunshine, they could see the Coast Guard rescue ship rushing their way. Rhys raised his hand, waving it in a wide arc.
A loud horn acknowledged his signal.
“Oh, thank God,” Tessa said, feeling fresh hot tears starting to flow.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rhys asked, pulling her closer.
“I’m a hell of a lot better now,” she said, ducking her head down. “I was so afraid I was never going to see you again.”
“I’d never let that happen,” Rhys said, lifting her chin. “Now that I’ve got
you, I’m never going to let anything take you away. You’ll always be safe with me.”
Tessa couldn’t stop the smile that lifted her lips as she looked up into his eyes. “Is that a promise?”
“More than a promise,” he said. “A vow.”
Chapter Fifteen
Three Days Later
“Full house,” Charlie said. A wide grin showed on her face as she laid her hand down on the flimsy hospital tray that was positioned over her lap.
Tessa looked down at her own collection of mismatched cards. She didn’t have so much as a pair.
“Looks like you win the pot again,” she said in defeat.
Charlie’s smile faded a little as she looked down at the pile of flat white soda crackers.
“I have to get out of here soon,” she said, pulling them closer. “At least to some place where the food is a little better.”
Tessa laughed. “What are you talking about? The doctor said you might be able to spice up your diet as early as next week.”
“Yay,” she said. “Canned tomato sauce.”
“Hey, it’s better than crackers.”
“Anything is better than crackers.”
Charlie’s voice was still a little raspy, and it certainly wasn’t at full strength, but it was still filled with her signature humor.
The doctors had said it would be a few weeks before she or Jake were back on their feet, but at least they were recovering well. Which was nothing short of amazing given the hours of surgery they’d both been through.
Even more amazingly, neither one of them blamed her for what happened. Not that she’d been that easy on herself.
Rhys kept telling her that she didn’t have to come down to the hospital every day out of guilt, but that wasn’t the real reason she visited them.
The truth was, she really liked Charlie and Jake. They were her friends, and she didn’t want them to go through their recovery alone.
Suddenly, the fluorescent lights from the hallway were blotted out, and Charlie’s face lit up. Tessa turned around to see who was there and found a massive dark-haired stranger blocking the door.
“Bowie,” Charlie called out.
So, this was the mysterious Bowie Tessa had heard so much about. He certainly was tall. And dark. And she guessed he was hand—
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