´There are five more weasel-assed pirates. Somewhe³µ A shot rang out and Teal·s fingers squeezed his, hard. He slammed his arm across her body to keep her behind him and two stairs down. Ĺike
there
for instance,µ she whispered as a hail of bul ets erupted just feet away.
Zane swung her behind him. Śtay put.µ
Ás i³µ Her words were cut off by another round of gunfire.
´Keep down,µ Zane instructed, doubled over as he took the stairs. Crossing the salon was the only way out to the deck and the launch. They had no choice. It was stay pinned in the stairwel , or make a mad, and dangerous, dash across the main cabin for freedom.
Another shot rang out. A scream of pain as the bul et slammed into the TV, shattering it into a shower of glass fragments. Zane squeezed off several shots, and the answering fire had him pressing Teal·s head against the stairs. He waited.
Waited. Waited. Ókay. Come on.µ
Shit. What a clusterfuck. He had no idea if it was his guys doing the shooting or the bad guys, nor did he know who was where. He squeezed off another round blind. Al he wanted to do at this point was clear the way. He breached the top step, keeping his body flat and his eyes moving as he tracked the room³the gal ey.
Ryan and three of his security guys had taken cover behind the counter.
He looked toward the door leading onto the aft deck, barely picking out several darker silhouettes against the black sky and driving rain. The bad gu ys gathered on the deck right outside the shattered windows.
In the next heartbeat, those guys were going to be inside, guns blazing. They·d be sitting ducks. It was going to be a bloodbath.
Teal whispered in his ear³Ĺet me³µ
He didn·t want to let her³
anything.
He grabbed her upper arm and yanked her lower beside him, then fired off a shot, stil gripping her arm. Afraid as hel to let go.
Click
. Out of ammo.
God³
He yanked the Very flare gun from the waistband of his jeans. A series of bul ets, from hi s crew, sliced through the doorjamb. Chunks of mahogany spewed in the air.
He raised the flare gun over the edge of the granite counter.
One³
The kitchen cabinet over Ryan shattered. Wood, canned peas, and dry pasta exploded across the gal ey and rained onto the floor.
Men shouted over the noise of more bul ets connecting with a horrific screech of metal on metal, peppering into the refrigerator right behind them in an explosion of noise. Cold air pooled around their feet, and the smal fucking bulb lit w here they were crouched as bright as a spotlight in the semidarkness.
Two.
On a silent three, Zane pul ed the Very·s trigger, firing a twelve -gauge flare through the doorframe, directly at the men blocking their exit, weapons raised.
The flash bang lit the room with a bril iant red light that ³if they were lucky³would give them seconds to make a mad dash through that door.
Heartbeat louder than the report of wild bul ets in his ears, Zane sprinted across the room, slammed through a half-broken door, shoved a guy out of the way, and flew across the deck, dragging Teal in his wake.
He practical y threw her down onto the dive platform, and jumped down beside her. The speedboat was nowhere to be seen. Just miles of ink-black water pounding against the hul , Śhit!µ He saw
Decrepit·s
running lights shimmering in the distance.
A bul et slammed into the deck mere inches away. Teal let out a furious shriek.
Without pausing, Zane plunged into the water just as another bul et whizzed so close to his ear he heard it whine.
´Take a breath!µ He dived until his ears popped, stil gripping Teal· s hand for dear life. He only let go when they broke the surface. Ókay?µ he shouted.
´You?µ
Śave your breath.µ Someone was firing the Uzi. The sound of rapid gunfire gave him impetus, and he hauled ass. Teal started swimming in strong, powerful strokes that moved her swiftly through the water beside him. He stayed beside her, keeping her in his peripheral vision.
The surrounding black was absolute. Usual y he had an excel ent sense of direction, but not tonight. The driving rain screwed up his eyesight , his ears were ringing, the waves were enormous, and his fucking heart threatened to leap out of his chest as he tried to put as much distance between them and the enemy ship as physical y possible.
If his arms and legs burned from fighting the waves, an d his breath was coming in laboring gasps, he was terrified for Teal. Although she was keeping up, they stil had almost half a mile to go before they reached safety. He was shit scared that he·d saved her from one fate, only to plunge her into a storm -tossed ocean to drown yards from the
Decrepit
.
Darkness surrounded them. They were midway between the running lights of the
Good
Fortune
and the
Decrepit
when he thought he heard the throb of a smal engine rapidly approaching. Ryan and the others?
Over the slap crash of the waves he stil heard shots from the
Good Fortune
.
The sound of the powerful boat got closer and closer. Al he could see was the bulky shape.
Black against black. Not the Sea Ray.
Fuckshitdamn. Who was after them now?
´Geez, you real y do have a magic cloak, don·t you?µ Teal huddled under a pile of blankets in the salon, Zane glued to her side. It was the local police who·d picked them out of the water.
Even though he·d wanted to head for port sooner than later, even though the wind and waves smacked into the hul as if trying to break the
Decrepit
apart, Zane was determined to stay right where they were until his last artifact was safe and sound and headed to port with them.
Maggie had been in her element as she bustled about, administering Band-Aids and coffee.
It was a miracle that the list of injuries was so minimal. Teal and Zane sat on the sofa in the salon, while they made their report to some odd little woman who looked like a character in a James Bond movie. The detective proved to be kick-ass and efficient. There·d be miles of paperwork and red tape later. But she got to her feet when she was done writing copious notes.
´Why do you think they took you, Miss Wil iams?µ Detective Simmons asked, putting away her recorder. ´They thought they·d kil ed Mr. Cutter. They should·ve just kil ed you and been free and clear.µ
´Gee thanks,µ Teal muttered dryly. The bruises and welts on her wrists burned and throbbed, she had a painful knob on the side of her head, and a headache pul sed behind her eyes. She leaned back against Zane·s chest and closed her scratchy eyes, then said a quick thank-you to whoever might be up there listening.
´They needed me to guide them into Cutter Cay and open up the Counting House so they could take
all
the treasure.µ
´The island·s impossible to breach unless one knows the lay of the land,µ Zane told the detective. Śtil , they couldn·t possibly have known we·d dive before taking off for port,µ he reasoned, pul ing the blanket wrapped around them both u p over her shoulder when she shivered.
´They didn·t. But they were quick thinking, and seized the opportunity when we presented ourselves. They figured either you were dead, and they·d have time to head in, or, if somehow you made it back here, and found me gone, you·d search for me. In the mea ntime, I·d lead them straight into Cutter Cay and open the Counting House for them.µ She snorted.
Ás if.µ
Í would·ve drained the fucking ocean to find you.µ He brushed a kiss to the top of her head, and his arms tightened around her as if he·d never let her go. ´God, you·re brave. I was scared witless when I couldn·t find you.µ
´My hero.µ Teal stroked his chin with the top of her head. It made her dizzy, but since her hands were tucked inside the blanket that was the best she could do.
He·d found her, guns blazing. She·d never in her life had anyone rescue her. From
anything
.
If anyone had asked, she would·ve told them she was perfectly capable of rescuing herself.
Her chest hurt from sheer emotion.
Nothing wrong with playing into the fantasy for a fe w hours. Teal figured she·d earned the right.
For the past hour, they·d watched as the authorities hauled load after load of treasure off the
Good Fortune
. They·d found not only dozens of stolen artifacts, but the tools used to sabotage the hul of Zane·s boat, and a log on the onboard computer proving that they·d tracked the
Decrepit
·s every move. Unfortunately, the
Sea Witch
was long gone. But the three elderly women had been arrested as they were leaving St. Maarten on the last flight out before the storm swept in. While they hadn·t participated in the thefts, or Teal·s kidnapping, they were stil under suspicion and were being remanded until they got an at torney. The men, caught red-handed, had been taken to jail. Teal hoped the cops threw away the key to their cel . The police were stil gathering evidence. There·d be no shortage of it, she thought, pissed al over again.
Miraculously, none of Zane·s security guys had been kil ed, though one had been grazed by a bul et and had to be taken to the hospital for stitches. The bad guys had taken the brunt of the attack, and two men on board the
Good Fortune
would have longer stays there before they·d join their p als in jail.
The police eventual y left to join their boats and head into port ahead of the worst of the storm. The wind was picking up and the rain slashed against the windows like hard pel ets.
If there was a step beyond exhausted, Teal was right there. Zane, on the other hand, looked bright-eyed and bushytailed, and very pleased with himself. Even after everything. The man was the Energizer Bunny.
Al she wanted to do was drag him down to his cabin, curl up against him, and sleep for a week. Too bad there·d be no sleeping for the next several hours.
Í dare you to deny you enjoyed every freaking minute of al the excitement,µ
Teal chal enged, eyes closed.
He slid his hand under her hair and caressed the back of her neck with his thumb. ´Bad guys arrested, stolen treasure scheduled to be released back to us in thirty days.µ She heard the grin in his voice. Ćlear sailing ahead, I promise.µ
Íf I stay like this much longer I·m going to be fast asleep. Let me up, I have things to do.µ
His arms tightened around her, but she unwound them, then fought her way out of the too -
hot blanket and got to her feet. She stil wore her wet suit and was barefoot. Zane ran his hand up her thigh.
´We·re heading to port now.µ He got up, too, then cupped her cheek. ´You can sleep for twenty-four hours when we get there. Don·t worry, no more drama, Wil iams. We have plenty of time to get everything secured and safely into port in St. Maarten. Then we can ride out the rest of the storm on dry land. Get changed.
I·l use the PA system to tel everyone to meet back here in five. Move it.µ
The boat was pitching and so was Teal·s stomach.
Í·l be back as soon as I·m done.µ Getting off the
Decrepit
was looming large in her dizzy brain.
Off. Off. Off.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her temple, making Teal·s heart stutter with yearning. Í hate letting you out of my sight. Be careful.µ
She turned her head to brush her lips on his jaw. Ńo bad guys in my ER, I promise.µ
´Make it snappy, Wil iams.µ
The waves had already risen to five feet and the
Decrepit
was pitching from side to side. Teal ran like hel to her engine room. Sweating, she swiped her hand over her face. Zane·s concern was sweet and touched her deeply. His adrenaline had run hot and he was clearly thriv ing on the high-stakes drama of the last few hours. But for her, the whole episode had been terrifying and exhausting.
She was alive and in one piece. Right now she counted that as good.
* * *
She charged around her room, then crashed into the nearest engine as the boat slammed into something. Probably the dock. Good thing she had the wet suit to protect her, but it stil hurt like hel .
Teal staggered to her feet, rubbing her hip bone as she set the batteries to take a ful charge so the bilge pumps would work. Next, she disconnected the electric and water and shu t off her fuel lines, then closed the hul fittings. Water would find its way into even the smal est opening. The bilge would work on aux power until she got back. She used duct tape and plastic to cover vents and plug exhaust pipes.
She rubbed her bandaged arm as she looked around. Satisfied, she went topside to see what else needed doing.
Zane had pul ed in to a friend·s smal marina. The wel -constructed concrete slips would provide protection from surging waters to some extent, and the sheltered bay on the leeward side of the island would help deflect the wind a little.
They arrived to find only one other moored boat. His friend Phil, who owned the place, had several rental boats, yachts mostly, but they had already been moved inside in anticipation of the storm.
Knowing that Teal was securing the engines, Zane shouted instructions over the rising wind. He turned the
Decrepit
so the bow faced the wind within the mooring. With the men·s help, he doubled the mooring and spring lines, distributing the load evenly using the cleats.
Úse
all
the cleats, guys, and use as many lines as each can hold!µ Zane reminded them, though he·d given everyone a briefing as they headed into port about running the lines to as many independent points on land as possible.
The other boat was the
Slow Dance,
a party boat. One man was attempting to tie off the lines by himself. Zane ran over and added his muscle to help the guy finish his tie -down, which took a precious fifteen minutes away from his own responsibilities. It wasn·t purely altruistic. The party boat was upwind. If she broke free, she could crash into the
Decrepit
and smash her to smithereens, sink her, or leave her hanging in her mooring lines.