Page 11 of Dead Drift

Swallowing, she scooted into the bathroom and, with one last glance, shut the door. Her eyes widened, and the desire to call Tanner and share what had just happened raced through her, but she refrained and instead splashed her face with cold water.

Katie?

Luke bolted upright and scanned the room. It took a moment to acclimate himself. Katie’s boat, and he’d crashed out?

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he glanced at the clock. Just after midnight. Normally he didn’t crash this early and then was up at dawn. His job didn’t allow for a long or sound night’s sleep, but his body and mind had adjusted, allowing him to perform at his best on four hours of sleep a night without issue or incident. It was amazing what a body and mind could endure with rigorous training, the strength and fortitude one gained.

He glanced back at Katie’s door. All was silent.

He was so thankful she’d finally let him stay. Why did the girl have to fight him on everything? Even more frustrating, why did he enjoy the verbal jousting so much?

Because she was unlike any other woman he’d ever met. Smart, witty, quick on her feet, and more than able to hold her own while still possessing—although she rarely showed it to anyone—a tender side. He’d spent seven-plus years away, and not a day had gone by during which she hadn’t danced through his mind.

He raked a hand through his hair, back to his natural shade of dark brown for the first time in a while.

It was amazing the love he still held for Katie. He’d always known he loved her, but even he hadn’t realized how deeply or all consumingly until he was back in her presence. But what did he do with it? So much had happened, so much time had passed.

He dropped to his knees in prayer at the side of the sofa bed.

Father, I know it’s been too long.

Oh, he’d said prayers, offered up quick ones as he needed help and as they fit in his schedule, but he couldn’t recall the last time he literally dropped to his knees with a bared-open heart before his Savior. Though he feared after all he’d done . . . after all his sins . . . he might be beyond the point of redemption.

I’m sorry, Lord, for choices I’ve made and some of the orders I’ve followed. They were contrary to my soul, and I did them regardless. I’m wrestling with demons. They’re always haunting me, trying to keep me in darkness.

Being back, all I want is to return home to You, to Katie, to the guys, and to my family, but I don’t know if that’s even possible.

Help me, Father. Guide my steps and keep the gang safe. Don’t let evil touch them because of me. Help me to keep my focus when it’s being pulled in two vastly different directions—Katie and Ebeid.

He lay back on the couch, fully expecting to remain awake, but an hour later he was roused from a deep slumber. This time something was wrong. Once again he sat up, pulling his .45 Sig from under the pillow.

He moved to check on Katie, cracked her door, and found her sound asleep. He moved back through the boat and then heard it—a click by the sliding glass door.

Was someone trying to enter?

With a deep swallow, he inched back the privacy curtain.

A man in black, a shadow in the dimness of the dock lights, stood less than a foot away on the opposite side of the glass. Wires were on the door. On the handle. A black box fixed to the glass. It was a bomb. Its red countdown numbers reflected backward on the sliding door of the ship opposite. Two minutes.

He raced for Katie.

Please, Father. Don’t let anything happen to Katie!

Kate awoke to a large thump on top of her legs, a heavy weight pinning them in place.

Fear ricocheted through her.

She grabbed her gun from under her pillow.

“It’s me,” Luke said, shifting off her legs. “Don’t shoot.”

Cold October air swirled in through the open hatch above. “Luke? What are you doing? Why is my hatch open?”

“Your sliding door is rigged to blow in under two minutes. We’ve got to get out of here now.”

“What?”

“No time to explain.” He kneeled on her bed beneath the hatch. “Climb up me and out the hatch. Hurry!”