They were a matched fucking set, weren’t
they? God pity the woman who tangled with one of them.
Kev forced his mind back to the issue at
hand. He could do something about his team leader’s current
predicament. All he needed was the go from Mendez.
“Shit,” the colonel said. “I’m gonna fucking
fry for this.”
Kev let out a relieved breath. Jack’s tense
stance eased, and Billy’s fingers started to fly even before the CO
gave the order. Mendez was on board, consequences be damned.
“Enable the satellite tracking on his phone,”
Mendez said. “Let’s find out where these bastards are. Soon as we
got it, call in the locals. No time to get a team down there.”
“Hoo-ah, sir,” they said in unison.
Kev just hoped Matt was in a position to stay
alive a little while longer. They needed time to track him. Not
much, true, but sometimes even a minute was too long when lives
were on the line.
* * *
Evie let out the breath she’d been holding
when Matt disconnected the call. Sarah held her so tight it broke
her heart. Just a couple of days ago she’d been a typical teenager
who didn’t much cotton to a prodigal big sister. And now the kid
clung to her like Evie was her salvation. It wasn’t right.
A couple of steps away, David gripped the gun
in a white-knuckled fist. Matt stood beside the table, his cuffed
hands resting in front of his body. And yet he looked anything but
helpless. David sensed it too, if his grip was any indication.
She lowered her gaze to Sarah’s dark head and
continued smoothing her sister’s hair. Pain exploded in Evie’s
scalp as David wrapped a fist in her hair and yanked her off the
banquette. She cried out as her hip smacked hard against the cabin
floor. Her eyes smarted with tears. Sarah wailed, reaching for her.
Somehow, Matt was there, preventing Sarah from latching onto Evie
as David tugged her back toward the steps leading up to the deck.
She scrambled to keep up with him, to keep him from ripping her
hair out or killing her in his rage.
When David stopped moving, Evie felt the cold
press of metal to her temple. She closed her eyes, then snapped
them open again to meet Matt’s icy stare. If she was about to die,
the very last thing she wanted to see was his face. It didn’t
matter that he’d gone into badass mode, that his expression was
carefully blank of emotion, or that she could have meant about as
much to him as what he’d had for dinner for all the concern he
showed.
“Where the fuck is that disc?” David
demanded.
“What makes you think I have it?” Matt’s
voice was ice.
The gun dug into her head. “If you don’t hand
it over, I’ll kill her.”
Matt shrugged. “You’ll kill her anyway. And
me and the girl along with her.”
“Maybe, but I don’t see where you have a
choice. Not if you want her to stay alive for more than the next
five minutes.”
Matt managed to look menacing enough that the
pressure of the gun eased up slightly. He tilted his chin toward
the table where his phone lay. “You heard him. They’ve cracked the
code. You kill us and you’re gonna have the meanest motherfucking
Special Forces team the military ever created tracking your ass.”
If anything, his voice grew harder, colder. “I’ve spent a lot of
miserable hours in some of the worst shitholes this world has to
offer with those guys. If you think we don’t know ways you’ve never
thought of to kill a man, you aren’t as smart as you seem. What
they do to you will make a mob hit look like a pleasant death.”
The flat, dead look in Matt’s eyes made her
heart ache. What had he been through that could leach the life out
of him like that? She wanted to hold him, to disappear with him.
She focused on him and tried to shut out David and the reality of
the gun barrel against her skin.
I love you
. The words popped into her
head, and she knew they were true. It was a stunning realization.
And a sobering one. She wanted to say the words, wanted him to
know, and yet she couldn’t endanger him. Couldn’t put any thought
in his head that pulled him out of the zone. Somehow, she knew that
instinctively.
David let go of her hair, put his arm around
her waist, and jerked her against him. The gun dropped, reappeared
beneath her chin. He dragged her up the steps. She stumbled,
grabbing his arm with one hand to steady herself. The movement
dredged up a memory.
“Get it,” David said, “or so help me God I’m
throwing her to the alligators.”
Matt eased backward toward the galley. He
jerked his head in the direction of the sink. “I have to reach
under there.”
David moved his head so it was behind hers,
making himself less of a target. Hot breath fanned her neck. He was
nothing like the man she’d once known and that saddened her as much
as it angered her. “If you come out of there with anything besides
a CD, you’ve signed Evie’s death warrant.”
From the vantage point of the steps, she
could see as Matt stooped and slowly stretched his arms into the
cabinet. He fumbled for a second and then something ripped,
excruciatingly slow. Tape, she realized. He must have done that
while she slept.
Slowly, he stood, the disc in his hand. David
trembled. The pressure of metal against her skin wavered as he
sagged against her momentarily. Her breath ripped into her chest
like a dagger. She had one chance.
One
. She could do it,
could stop him right now.
She
had
to do it. It was up to her to
save them all.
She willed her fingers to move. What had Matt
shown her? The nerve right below the elbow, inside of the arm,
against the bone.
Squeeze hard
. Mess it up, and he’d blow
her head off. Lightning fast, she dug her fingers into his arm,
praying she had the right spot.
David swore, his grip tightening on her as
the gun shifted away. The sound as it went off was deafening. She
felt the hot breeze of the bullet, the concussion of the explosion
against her skin, but she didn’t let go. Matt yelled at her as he
shielded Sarah, but the blood pounded so hard in her ears she
couldn’t focus on what he said. He’d covered Sarah’s small body
with his bigger one, and he looked murderous.
Evie ignored him, dug harder, felt the
instant her fingertips slid between muscle. She squeezed for all
she was worth. David’s breath rushed out and he dropped the gun at
the same time he began to fall to his knees. She spun away as he
fell, kept up the pressure, and aimed a foot at his crotch.
She only landed a glancing blow, her foot
hitting his thigh instead. He grunted. She had balled up her fist
and was about to smash him in the face when the boat lurched hard
forward. She lost her grip as she was thrown backward on the
rebound. She sailed over David’s head and onto the deck, landing in
a tangled mess of arms, legs, and pain. The rear deck slammed into
her, knocking the breath from her body. She was thrown up and
against the rear wall until she found herself doubled at the waist,
hanging over the side with the water a couple of feet beneath her
head.
Somehow she managed to claw her way back onto
the deck, sliding down the wall until her ass hit the floor. Evie
drew in a painful breath and wheezed to get air into her lungs. The
yacht listed starboard. She launched herself forward and struggled
on hands and knees toward the cabin, her vision wavering as hot
liquid burned into her eyes.
She wiped her face, her hand coming away red.
Oh God, had she been shot?
She struggled not to panic and to coolly
assess her body for injuries. She touched her head again, finding
it tender. A cut on her scalp. They bled like a bitch. She wasn’t
dying; she wasn’t shot. Relief flooded her.
Where was Sarah? And Matt?
She groped toward the cabin. Sarah was
sitting on the floor, pushing her hair from her face.
“Are you hurt?” Evie asked.
“No.” She lifted a shaking hand, dropped it
again. “I hit the wall, but I’m okay.”
“Where’s Matt?”
“I don’t know. He grabbed the other guy and
when I looked up again, they were gone.”
Evie spun away. A glance up to the command
bridge revealed Brianna slumped against the seat. First things
first. Evie scrambled up the steps, her heart pumping, her stomach
aching. She had to get to the other woman before she regained her
senses and got her gun.
Evie rocketed to the top, then stumbled to a
halt. One side of Brianna’s head was smashed in, blood and brain
matter sprayed over the console. Evie swallowed a sob and spun
away.
God, she’d never wish that on anyone. Poor
Bree. Whatever her sins, she shouldn’t have died like that. Evie
went to the railing, breathing deeply, trying not to lose the
little bit of food she had in her stomach.
A movement in the water caught her
attention.
David’s blond hair and Matt’s darker head
disappeared beneath the surface.
No!
David bobbed back up, his head and shoulders
above the water. He seemed to be pushing on something, pushing
down.
Drowning Matt.
Oh God, no!
She spun around, searching
for the gun, anything she could use, but it was gone. There was
nothing. Evie took a sobbing breath, her arms and legs trembling as
she stared at the brackish water far below. There were things in
there, nasty things, things that bit and stung and killed.
Matt.
But, oh God, she loved him and she wasn’t
going to let David take him away from her too.
Evie shot down the stairs and jumped onto the
edge of the listing boat, balancing her body in that one last
second before she committed herself to what she was about to do.
All she had to do was launch herself as far as she could and try to
land on top of David and pull him away. She could do it.
She
had
to do it. She had no
choice.
Dark, dank water yawned beneath her. The sky
was brighter now, but the bayou was still murky. There could be a
snake. A gator. Certain death lurked beneath that surface. She
couldn’t
swim
. Not like that. Not after diving into the
murk.
But if she didn’t jump, certain death would
claim Matt. David was still above the water and Matt wasn’t.
Evie bent her legs and sprung into thin air.
She was suspended there for what seemed like forever, falling in
slow motion. She reached out, stretched her arms as far as she
could, and grasped David’s shoulders as she came down hard on the
water. The impact hurt like hell, knocking the air out of her for
the second time and stinging her skin with the power of millions of
tiny needles.
But she refused to let go. She scissored her
legs, got them beneath her and then around David’s waist, dragging
him backward with all her weight. It didn’t take much effort, or it
happened so fast it seemed like it didn’t take any effort; then
they were falling under with David on top of her.
Panic clawed at her with icy fingers, but she
held on and held her breath until she thought she was going to pop.
She couldn’t see a thing, but David fought her, twisting, pulling,
and trying to get his head above water. He snatched at her hair,
jerked hard until his fingers slipped through the slippery strands,
then tried to twist again. He got sideways enough to get a hand
around her neck, then squeezed hard while she resisted the urge to
cry out. She’d gulp black water if she did. Just when she thought
it was over, when her lungs couldn’t hold it another minute, air
burst into her chest.
First, she wondered what had happened to
David. He was gone, as if he’d vaporized into nothing. Second, she
realized she was standing up, that her feet were on the bottom and
her head and shoulders were above water. She hadn’t been in deep
water at all. She could have stood up at any time.
But, oh God, where was Matt? Her heart
tattooed her ribs as she spun in both directions, looking for
him.
A dark shape moved near
Candyland’s
ladder. Matt propped a boneless David against the ladder and
turned. A shaky breath rattled out of her and his scowl gave way to
a smile.
“I think I’ve got another concussion,” he
said.
She laughed, but it came out sounding like a
sob. She fought her way through almost five feet of water, half
swimming and half running, and wrapped her arms around his neck and
held on tight. Her heart pounded so hard she couldn’t hear a thing
he said.
And then she realized it wasn’t her heart,
but a helicopter. She tilted her head back as the police helicopter
passed over them. Instructions issued from a loudspeaker, but she
wasn’t listening. She was clinging to Matt, loving the feel of his
warm wet body against hers, and thanking God he was still
alive.
“I thought I’d lost you,” she said, her cheek
against his chest.
He squeezed her. “You didn’t.”
Evie closed her eyes.
Not yet
remained
unspoken.
* * *
Detectives Proctor and Odell sat across from
Evie and Matt at a table in a room far more comfortable than the
one she’d been shown to last night—or was that the night before?
She was so tired she couldn’t remember which day was which, or when
this nightmare had begun.
Now, thankfully, it was over. Or mostly
over.
With both hands, Evie lifted the cup of
coffee she’d been given, inhaled the fragrant steam, and sipped.
Who’d have ever thought office supply store coffee could taste so
good?
Beside her, Matt recounted everything that’d
happened since they’d left her mother’s ruined house earlier. Evie
interjected comments as necessary, but mostly she left it to Matt.
It was up to him to decide how much to reveal about the military’s
involvement, so she kept quiet and savored the weak coffee. Best
damn coffee she’d ever had.
Proctor took notes, tight-lipped, but Odell
was friendly and effusive.