by M. S. Parker
But Mila was pissed off enough just being asked to keep a couple of security guards with her and to be careful. She’d probably pelt me with whatever hard objects came to hand if I suggested she lock herself inside until we had this dealt with. That wasn’t the woman I knew.
It wasn’t the woman I’d fallen in love with either.
We’d find some way around this – something we could do to keep her safe without her feeling like she was stifling.
The two security guards outside Mila’s temporary bungalow nodded at me as I approached.
“It’s been quiet,” the older of the two told me. “I think she’s been watching some TV.”
Swiping my keycard, I slid inside.
The TV was on, but a quick look at the couch told me Mila wasn’t sitting there watching.
I spied an empty wine glass on the coffee table as I walked through the room.
Had she gone to bed?
It wasn’t really late, but she’d had a rough day. I knew I was worn out.
If she was asleep…
I brushed the thought aside. If she was asleep, I’d join her, and we’d finish this talk tomorrow.
But the door to the bedroom hung open, and as I approached, I saw light spilling out into the hallway.
And it was quiet – the whole bungalow was quiet.
My stomach went tight as I processed that. “Mila?” I called out.
There wasn’t an answer.
I shoved into the bedroom and found the bed empty. The bathroom door stood open, the lights off. I swore and spun around, hurriedly checking the rest of the bungalow. It was empty.
I yanked open the door to the terrace, but she wasn’t out there.
Turning on my heel, I ran through the bungalow and shoved the door open. “She’s gone,” I said, the words coming out in a growl. “I think she went out through the terrace, but she’s not there now.”
Immediately, the older security guard grabbed his radio from his belt.
I pointed at the younger one. “Call Millie. Let her know. See if there’s any place she thinks Mila might have gone.”
I turned on my heel and went right back through the bungalow, into the bedroom and out the terrace door. Following the stone path to the gate that led out of the terraced area, I moved to stand in one of the many pathways that connected one part of the resort to another. I stood there and listened.
I didn’t hear anything.
Turning my head, I spied one of the discreet signs etched into a post set along the pathway.
One arrow pointed toward the main lodge.
Another pointed toward the grotto and swimming pool.
Another still pointed away from the lodge itself…toward the beach.
I followed that path, my ears pricked, eyes searching everything.
I didn’t run into anybody on my way down to the beach.
That, in and of itself, was odd.
The entire island seemed to be a hotbed of activity no matter what the hour, and here it was, early Friday evening and nobody was heading back to the resort from the beach.
The cool wind whipping through the air probably had something to do with that, but I ignored it as I trudged along the path, my eyes scanning everything, everywhere.
I caught the first, faint sound when I was still too far away to make out much of anything beyond the circles of light cast down by the carefully spaced out street lights.
I paused, head cocked as I listened for it to come again.
Shouting.
I took off running, heading in the direction of the shout – toward the beach.
My heart lunged up into my throat as I rounded the final bend in the path.
The electric lights that lit most of the pathways stopped here. They didn’t extend down to the beach front, and I was light-blinded by them as I first moved off the path. I squinted my eyes to better see what I was looking at.
I heard nothing but my heart pounding in my ears.
A scream exploded into the night, and adrenaline surged through me as I ran toward the sound.
My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I could finally make out the deeper shadows of the water, the beach chairs placed side by side in the sand.
And out in the surf, there were two people.
My instincts sharpened. One of them was Mila.
I knew it in my gut.
I ran harder, faster, blood roaring in my ears, my heart racing.
Mila was fighting against the grip of a man who looked like he stood a good head taller than me. He was yanking her along, and when she jerked back against him, he turned and backhanded her.
I ran harder, harder than I’d ever run in my life as Mila sagged, dazed.
She went limp, and a shout burned its way up my throat. I silenced it, my focus locked on the man who was now pulling Mila’s limp body along behind him.
He heard me when I was still a few feet away and spun to face me, one hand dipping inside his coat.
I hurled myself at him, and the two of us went down into the surf.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mila stagger to her feet, then sway. She shook her head and somehow stayed on her feet.
Movement off to my left caught my attention, and I came out of the water just as the man I’d tackled stood up on unsteady legs and swung a gun toward Mila.
Grabbing his wrist, I shoved it upward.
The shot went wild.
I slammed a fist into the man’s face, feeling like I’d just decked a granite wall.
He swung a fist at me in retaliation, and as it connected with my jaw, pain exploded.
But I held onto his arm.
He roared and shifted his focus to me.
“Mila,” I called back over my shoulder. I didn’t so much as blink as I faced off with the big guy. “Run.”
36
Mila
I jerked against the grip cruelly shackled around my wrist, but it was like trying to budge concrete.
Panic welled up inside me, and I screamed, knowing it was useless but unable to stop myself.
He ignored me, like I hadn’t made a sound, like I wasn’t fighting for my very life. He yanked me into the water and dread gripped me.
No, no, no…
Why hadn’t I listened to Liam?
Liam…
I screamed again, panic giving me strength. Jerking against the tight grasp wrapped around my wrist, I tried again to twist away.
For a brief second, I thought it might work – the grip on my wrist seemed to loosen.
But then he stopped walking abruptly and spun around to me. I saw him lift his hand, but I couldn’t avoid it – he moved too fast.
My head snapped to the side with the force of the blow, and I tasted blood in my mouth. The taste of it added to my terror, and I jerked again, but my head was spinning. I couldn’t see straight.
I couldn’t–
Something slammed into us, knocking us both down into the surf.
It took me a few seconds to realize it, but I was free.
I crab-walked back away from the man who’d been holding me, my eyes searching the darkness for him.
Two bodies came crashing up out of the water next to me. I screamed again. A split second later, I saw Liam.
My heart lurched, and I shoved upright onto my feet, gasping for air and blinking sea water out of my eyes. The man turned to me, a gun pointing in my direction.
It made a popping sound, and I waited for the pain, but none came. The shot had gone wild.
“Mila, run!” The urgent command from Liam came flying out of the night.
I stared at them, unable to will my legs to do anything, much less run.
Liam broke away from the man who’d been holding him, and I watched as he slammed his fist into the throat of my would-be killer.
The blow barely seemed to faze the other man, who looked like he had six inches and about a hundred pounds on Liam.
I backed out of the water.
My movement caught the eye
of the man struggling with Liam, and he turned, rushing for me.
I moved faster, and Liam came at the man from behind, wrapping his arms around the other guy and heaving, twisting. I gaped in shock as Liam threw the man into the water lapping at our feet, then pounced on him.
For a few seconds, Liam had him, shoving his head into the water and clobbering him with brutal jabs from his right hand.
But the guy was able to throw Liam off.
Once more, they rose, facing each other.
I should do something. Run? Get help? I’d already tried screaming, and that wasn’t working.
Helpless, I looked around for a weapon but save for the water and the sand, there wasn’t anything.
Liam feinted left, and the man twitched.
They came together again in a flurry of blows and kicks, their movements so fast, it was like they blurred together.
I saw the blow Liam took to the head – it staggered him and sent him to his knees. My heart leaped up into my throat as my assailant lifted the gun he’d managed to hold on to.
I barely had time to register what was happening as instinct took over. He pointed it at Liam, and I sprang forward, grabbing his arm and yanking.
There was a muffled pop, hardly loud enough for me to hear over the roaring in my ears and the crash of the water around us. I scrambled for control of the gun, although I had no idea what I’d do if I got it.
He threw me off, and the gun swung around my way.
Liam tackled him from behind, and the man went facedown into the water.
My eyes tracked the gun as it went flying, splashing into the wet sand a few feet away.
I rushed for it, closing my hand around the wet, sandy grip as I fell onto my ass and twisted, seeking them out in the darkness.
The gun in my hand was heavy, shockingly so. I lifted it, and it shook wildly in my hands.
But they were in the water still, wrestling and moving so fast, I couldn’t separate one from the other.
What if I shot Liam?
Indecision tore at me, and I lowered the weapon. Water dripped from it. I didn’t even know if the thing would work now – it had gotten wet. Were guns waterproof?
Liam staggered under a blow from a huge right hand, and I cried out.
His head whipped toward me, and in that second, the big guy lunged for Liam, taking him down into the water, his hands wrapped around his neck.
“No!” I screamed. Clutching the gun, I thrashed through the water to where they lay, driven by instinct and fear.
The man didn’t so much as look at me.
I stared at the gun, again scared I’d shoot Liam.
Liam’s head was under the water now. The tide was coming in – the water was up to my knees now. It hadn’t been so deep only moments ago. I couldn’t see any part of Liam now, but I saw the thrashing water.
He was fighting – fighting for me. I could damn well do more than just stand there.
I don’t even remember lifting the gun or bringing it down on the man’s head.
He went stiff.
I hit him again, using all my strength as I swung out this time.
I caught him on the temple.
He swayed, then toppled over.
Liam came up out of the water, choking and gasping, but still fighting.
He saw me standing over them, and his eyes widened. Staggering to his feet, he slid an arm around my waist, urging me out of the water. With his other hand, he took the gun from me.
“It got wet,” I said, my teeth chattering. “Will it work if it’s wet?”
“It’ll work,” he responded, voice chilly. He turned as we walked, and I glanced back, terror lighting inside me once more.
It made me clumsy. Now I understood why heroines were always falling in horror movies. I tripped but righted myself before I went down. Finally, out of the water, I turned toward Liam.
He still had the weapon aimed at my attacker.
The big man was back on his feet and staring at Liam like I didn’t even exist. “You aren’t going to use that on me,” he said, his voice confident.
“Get down on your knees,” Liam said, not bothering to respond to the man’s comment.
I saw murder in Liam’s eyes though, and I knew he would use it.
Heart hammering in my throat, I stared between the two.
The man’s hand twitched, and he lunged.
Liam lowered the weapon a fraction, then there was another one of those muffled pop sounds.
A scream tore the night, furious and filled with pain, and I yelped as the man collapsed into the water. Covering my mouth with my hands, I gaped as he lay on his back, thrashing in the water.
“You mother-fucker! You shot my knee!”
“Hands on your head or the next bullet goes into your skull. And no, I won’t miss,” Liam said calmly. “Make me nervous, and I just might shoot you in the dick before I blow your brains out.”
A split second passed, and I could see the man weighing his options. Then he heaved out a sigh. A second later, he dangled another gun in front of him, holding it between two fingers.
“Throw it away,” Liam ordered.
He threw it, and I jumped as I heard it splash into the watery sand a few feet away.
I went to grab Liam. He let me, holding me with one arm while he kept the gun up and ready.
Over his shoulder, I saw lights. When the lights revealed a rush of bodies, I sagged. “It’s the security guys,” I whispered, dazed.
Still, Liam didn’t lower the weapon, not even once we were surrounded by security guards.
He didn’t lower it until the man on the ground was flipped onto his stomach and had his hands bound behind him. He cursed and screamed the whole way through.
I buried my face against Liam’s chest.
Finally, he slid his other arm around me. I felt the chill of the weapon through my wet dress and shivered.
“Mila,” he whispered.
Closing my eyes, I clung to him even tighter.
37
Liam
“Bumps, bruises, and scrapes.” That was the pronouncement of the paramedic who had just finished inspecting me.
He’d told Mila the same thing.
We sat in one of the offices tucked behind the check-in counter in the lodge’s main building.
Millie sat on Mila’s other side, clutching her granddaughter’s hand.
At the paramedic’s words, Mila slumped against me, her head lolling as if she no longer had the strength to support it.
While the paramedic stood up and started packing up the supplies he’d pulled out of his bag, I curled my free arm around Mila and buried my face against her neck.
She was here.
She was alive.
Bumped, bruised, and scraped, but alive.
She shuddered against me, and I reached up, tucked the blanket more completely around her before adding mine to it. I felt chilled to the bone myself, but it had nothing to do with my body temperature or the wet clothes, so I didn’t expect a blanket would help.
Mila started to sob quietly.
Over her head, I met Millie’s eyes for a brief moment before closing mine.
Mila squirmed closer.
I eased her into my lap, once more tucking the blankets snug around her. She twisted free of them though and tugged her hand from her grandmother’s, wrapping both of her arms around my neck.
We sat like that for what felt like a very long time, and I told myself over and over again that she was okay.
She was here.
She was alive.
She was okay.
Mila shuddered harder, and I worried she might be going into shock.
I slid a hand under her cheek and eased her head up until our eyes could meet. Her pupils were dilated, but just a little and when she saw me looking at her, she reached up, touching my cheek. “I was so scared,” she said, her voice breaking.
“Me too.” Scared didn’t quite touch what I felt when I’d se
en the guy pulling her into the water.
She shuddered again.
Millie got to her feet. “Child, you’re freezing – both of you. I’m going to get you some coffee.”
“I don’t–”
I pressed my thumb to Mila’s lips. “It will help. I don’t want you going into shock.”
She slumped against me once more, and I hooked my arm around her neck. We clung to each other so tight, nothing but wet clothes and blankets separated us. And that was still too many things between us.
“Mind if I come in?”
I looked up, focusing on the tired-eyed man who’d arrived from the mainland, along with several police officers just as the security team had hauled Mila’s assailant into the lodge.
“Detective Hodge,” I said, surprised I could remember his name.
He nodded and took a seat across from us. His eyes strayed to Mila. “Mila, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
I smoothed a hand down her back, uncertain if she’d even heard the cop.
But she stirred and lifted her head. She blinked and focused in on the man in his rumpled suit.
“Are you up to this?” Millie asked from a few feet away, her hands clutched together at her waist.
“I’m okay,” Mila said, nodding. She offered her grandmother a wobbly smile then looked back at the cop. “What do you need to know?”
Mila tensed as the cop started to talk, but she answered each question in a fairly steady voice.
The cop nodded and jotted down some notes on the pad he held. He lapsed into silence then looked back at Mila, head cocked. “The man who attacked you – he’s given us a name. Do you know a Charles Gamble?”
I tensed, my gaze sliding to Millie.
She gave the cop a bewildered stare. “What does Charles have to do with this?”
The cop barely glanced from Mila’s face. “Do you know Charles Gamble, Miss Golding?” he pressed.
Before I could say that I’d only met my grandmother’s attorney once, there was a knock at the door.
I looked up, narrowing my eyes as a round man with a red face came rushing in. “Millie…Mila…I just heard…” He lapsed into silence at the sight of Mila sitting on my lap, his gaze jumping from me to the detective then back to Mila.