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I slithered aboard the boat that was a little smaller than Matt’s. I cocked my head, waiting for voices but it was deathly quiet. Good. More time to search. I set off, gun raised, and went to the bridge. It was abandoned. Everyone must have gone ashore to search for Melissa.
Rookie mistake, I thought to myself, almost smiling.
I ducked inside and scanned the panel. How they were tracking her wasn’t obvious. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it all looked normal. As I backed out, ready to go below and continue the search, two familiar voices whispered into the night and sent chills up my spine.
Fuck. Company.
I reached for my side and retrieved two small devices from the waterproof compartment in the belt I wore. It was an old SEAL belt that had room for all kinds of goodies. The two in question were small explosives that packed a powerful punch in their small size.
I might’ve not been able to find out how they’d tracked us, but I could damn well make sure they couldn’t continue. I ducked into the shadows, put my gun in the back of my pants, and rigged up the explosives with a five-minute timer. Plenty of time for me to get away.
Once set, I scurried away from the bridge and away from the voices that were getting closer.
“—don’t understand. This thing is accurate to a two hundred-yard radius!” the one voice boomed. “That means she is on one of these five other boats around us.”
Good to know. I hurried away, not risking listening for more details. No matter how badly I wanted more information.
I was looking over my shoulder, and mentally clocking the explosives, and didn’t hear when a second set of footsteps joined mine on the deck.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I whipped around and found myself staring up at a giant of a man, dressed in all black, and wearing a dark grin on his ugly mug.
I reached for my gun but it was too late.
My time had run out.
15
Melissa
“Jackson, please, settle down and go back to sleep.”
I was on the verge of begging. Jackson was frantic, running around the room, trying to get out to go find Chase. “Mom, where is he?”
“He had to go get something at the hotel. He forgot something, okay?” I hated to lie to him but Jackson was in an all-out panic, desperate to know where his new friend was.
“We should go help him look!”
“No, no,” I said, reaching for him and putting him back on the bed. “You’re going to settle down and go back to sleep. I’m very sorry that mommy had to wake you up in the first place.”
“But Mom—”
“No, Jackson. Please, baby, go to sleep.” I could hear the sharpness to my tone and hated myself for it. My sweet boy was concerned for his friend, a trait I appreciated, but considering the circumstances—I couldn’t take anymore objections, questions, or arguments.
I was fried.
The roller-coaster of an adrenaline ride had been raging for days on end and I was about to fly off the tracks altogether.
“I wish Daddy was here…”
Tears stung my eyes as I sank down to the bed, no longer able to hold up my own body weight. “Jackson,” it came out like a plea, a frantic whisper.
“What, Mom? Don’t you wish Dad was here too?”
What the hell was I supposed to say? No, darling, actually I wish your father was hanging from his feet over a tank of man eating sharks and ready to go for a dip.
Chase—the man I was falling for—was out risking his life to keep us safe from men that had been hired by your father.
No. Those were truths I’d never be able to tell him.
“Mom?”
I looked at Jackson. “Honey, it might be awhile before you see Dad again, okay?”
“Why, Mama?”
I drew in a quick breath. “Your father has some things he needs to do and those things might take him a long time.”
Jackson looked puzzled; his little brow knit together. “At work?”
“Yes,” I replied, nibbling on my lip. I glanced out the window. Where was Chase? We needed to get going. I couldn’t do this alone right now. I needed him to swoop in and tell Jackson some story or promise him a new adventure. Something to distract the small boy who was dead set on learning a horrible truth.
Jackson stuck out his lip, resorting to pouting since I wasn’t giving him the answers he wanted. I’d try again in the morning. At the moment, my thoughts were too scattered and chaotic to make sense of it to myself, let alone my five-year-old son who only knew ten percent of the truth of our situation.
“Come on, sweetheart. Lie down and try to rest.”
He laid down but his lip stayed set in an angry pout.
“That’s better. Now, get some sleep and we’ll talk about this in the morning. Okay?”
