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CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
Enemy Fire
BEAST
The early morning air has a bite to it as we get out of the car and head into Garsons Boatyard. Murky river water laps at the dock and the smell of wood and oil greets us as we step into the main office area that’s tucked right beside the yard where a huge boat is docked.
“Is that his?” I ask.
I’m no sailor, and I haven’t once stepped foot on a boat, but even a man like me can appreciate this boat’s beauty. It’s sleek, white, with silver edging, and the sails are cream. Dark oak lines the deck, and the same varnished wood holds up the sail.
“Apparently so,” Kate replies, jerking her chin towards Malakai who walks down the gangplank from the deck towards us. He’s dressed in worn jeans, a faded t-shirt full of holes, scuffed-up trainers and looks like he hasn’t slept in a few days. Not surprising given he’s failed to locate the King and we’re here to turn his boat into ash.
“Good morning,” he says, greeting us. He’s as cool as a fucking cucumber despite his appearance that suggests otherwise. Either this fucker has taken lessons in keeping a lid on his emotions or he’s got some news for us.
“Is it?” I ask. “Because from our point of view the only way this morning is going to look any better is if you’ve found out where the King is hiding.”
Malakai nods. “Then I guess it’s going to look better.”
“Start talking,” Kate says, getting straight to the point.
“Not out in the open. Follow me,” Malakai replies, walking back the way he came and climbing up the gangplank leading onto the deck of his boat.
I glance over at Kate, noticing the dark circles ringing her eyes. She barely slept last night, tossing and turning, going over her decision with regards to Ford. After she reluctantly dropped him off back at the children’s home yesterday evening, Kate and I spent the evening talking to Hudson trying to figure out the best way to protect the kid. Kate wants him to live with her, but Hudson convinced her that for now he’d be safer at the children’s home given it has twenty-four hour security and every single person who passes through its doors is vetted beforehand. Kate had argued the toss, but stealing a kid from the custody of the local authority probably isn’t the wisest move, given she put a bullet in his mum’s brain and I killed his stepfather.
“Watch your step, I’ve spent the morning waxing the deck. It’s a bit slippery,” Malakai warns as we step onto the beautifully polished wood.
Taking my hand Kate steps onto the boat, which is even more impressive seeing it up close and personal. A great deal of care and attention has gone into refurbishing it, and a part of me is impressed by the sheer fact a man like Malakai has the skills to both maintainandsail such a huge boat.
“It’s beautiful,” Kate says, her fingers trailing along the rail.
“She is,” Malakai agrees.
“She?” I ask, following Malakai as he steps down into the cabin.
“All boats are females.”
“Why?” I find myself asking, nothing like a bit of chit-chat to lull a man into a false sense of security before we ruin his fucking life.
“No one knows for certain,” he replies. “But historically sailors and the captains of ships were predominately men who used to decorate the bowsprit of a sailing vessel with images of the women they left behind. Add to that the protective female figure of a mother or goddess and the boat ends up being humanised in the same way.”
“Right,” I reply, pulling a face as I glance over at Kate. “You learn something new every day.”
“I can see why you’re so attached,” Kate says, taking a seat at the small table built into the cabin. Like the deck, the cabin is beautifully maintained. The same polished wood lines the walls with silver, white, and blue accents. It’s as sexy as any car I’ve driven, that’s for damn sure, and I can certainly see why this boat is a ‘she’ with all its curves and natural beauty. But as much as I appreciate it, we ain’t here to ogle a boat. We’re here to set it alight if Malakai hasn’t got the information that we came for.
It’s in all of our best interests that he has.
Sliding onto the seat beside Kate, I study Malakai’s expression as he opens up his laptop and searches for something on the screen. Right now he isn’t giving anything away, and as much as it pisses me off, I’ve got to admire how he’s holding his shit together.
“This has been my home for a few years now,” Malakai says, almost as an afterthought. “I’d like to keep it that way.”
“And she can continue to be your home, providing you tell me where the King is hiding,” Kate says, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a lighter. She rests it on the table between us, using it as a symbol of what will happen if we don’t get what we came here for.
“It hasn’t been easy. The King doesn’t want to be found.”
“Not my problem,” Kate says, picking up the lighter and striking the flint wheel. A small flame lights up, flickering in the breeze that’s coming through the open window to our left.
“You’re right, it isn’t,” Malakai responds, his gaze focussing on the lighter Kate is purposefully striking on and off. “It’s been mine.”
