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“Kemp, come here,” Dean barks, still holding the gun out straight.
Kemp lifts up from the water, his face bruised from the fight, his body dripping wet. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him this weak. In his element he always seemed so proper, so confident. He glares toward Zane, then toward Dean as he takes the final few steps toward him. The moonlight catches his intensions before Dean can see them, but I see it clearly.
I scream. “He’s going to—”
Kemp reaches for the gun and yanks it, trying to pull it from Dean’s hands, but Dean pulls the trigger. It’s an instinctual move. I see it in his eyes the second he realizes what’s happened, but it’s too late. Kemp falls backward into the sand and grips his chest as blood begins to pool over top of him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean says, holding pressure over the wound. “I have a first aid kit in my bag, grab it.” His eyes are wide and panicked as he looks toward me.
With my heart pounding, I move toward Dean’s bag quickly, grabbing out the box of band-aids and alcohol wipes, but I don’t think they’re going to do the trick right now.
The guys step in behind me and turn my face away from the gruesome scene as Jane jogs down the beach, but I twist back as she meets the carnage. Whatever happens, I don’t want Dean to be blamed for the shooting. Kemp was coming after him.
“What the hell is going on here?” she shouts. “Medics, we need medics.” The grin she’s worn most of the game disappears and for the first time I see a wrinkle in her forehead as she kneels down to the ground, covering her hand over top the hole in Kemp’s chest.
“He attacked,” Dean says, as a drop of rain hits the tip of my nose and then another in quick succession. The storm has been threatening us for days. Of course it would have to start right now.
Zane twists me away from the scene again and looks down at me, his fingertip beneath my chin, pulling my gaze up to his. “Do you trust me?”
My heart clenches tight as I nod. I do trust him. I trust all three of them, but I’m not sure anyone is thinking clearly right now.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m about to radio the police and tell them everything. If I get locked up, I want you to let Brad and Colin take care of you. I want you to—”
“This is all my fault,” I say, pressing against his chest tight. “You wouldn’t have been fighting him if it weren’t for me and this stupid—”
“Hey,” he says, his fingertip under my chin again as Colin and Brad surround me on either side. “You trust me, right?”
I take in a hard, deep breath and nod, a tear rolling down my face as the rain gets harder.
Zane kisses the top of my head with a pressure that tells me this whole thing is about to get a thousand times worse. “Good, then follow me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sara
Wind whips at my face as sprinkling bits of the sea collect on my cheeks. We’ve been driving across open water for what seems like forever, but I bet in reality it’s only been a few hours. Colin stays with me while Brad and Zane man the motorboat. I don’t know boats well, and it’s still rather dark, but I’d guess it’s not the nicest boat in the productions fleet. From foot to tail, it’s maybe seventeen feet and the sleeping quarters are rather small. It’s nothing like the one Jane has been on all week.
I think I’m trying to rationalize our getaway. We didn’t take the big boat, so it’s okay. We just took this little one. No one will miss the little one, right? My stomach ties in knots as Colin holds me close, his big hand over top of my stomach as we ride.
“What are we doing?” The boat jumps and I press harder into Colin’s shoulder. There’s a storm moving in behind us and I guess there isn’t much time before it catches up. The waves only seem to be getting bigger.
“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.” He squeezes me tighter, kissing the top of my head, trying to comfort me, but my stomach is doing knots. We just tossed three men out of a boat and stole it. Zane just assaulted a guy on camera. He could go to jail. His life could be over.
“This is all my fault,” I say, burying my face in Colin’s chest. “I talked you all int—”
“You didn’t talk us into anything. We care about you, Sara. We’ll do what it takes to keep you safe.”
“Knock, knock,” a deep voice says from the narrow stairs connecting the top and bottom of the boat. It’s Zane and his head is hung low as though he’s come to apologize. “You mind swapping spots for a minute with me, Colin?”
Colin kisses my forehead and sits up from the bed, as Zane steps into his place. He’s wearing the stress of the day on his face. In most people, it seems worry lands between their eyes, but for Zane it shows in the way he sets his jaw. He runs his hand down over top his beard and sits on the bed next to me, as though he’s about to say something he’s not sure I’ll like.
“The cops in Antigua want to talk to us, but I don’t think it’ll take long. Do you want to go back to San Francisco?”
My head is full and spinning with uncertainty. “What do you mean it won’t take long? Zane… Kemp’s wife has an unbelievable influence. She’s a party congressional leader and the representative of one of the wealthiest districts in the country. She will get what she wants. She’s going to spin all this to make it look like our fault. I just know it.”
“She can try,” he says, running his large hand down over my cheek. “But we won’t let her get away with it.”
