Chapter 25 Locke #2
I prepared the boat for docking, concentrating on weaving around the day trippers who didn’t know the rules of the waters.
Frustration strung tight between my shoulders like rubber bands about to snap.
Every boat seemed too close. The laughter coming from the people in town to party was like fiberglass under my skin.
Priscilla kept her distance, but her anger and fear was thick in the space between us.
I should be holding her close, but I was just so afraid to show her how freaked out I was that I locked everything down. It was for her protection—and maybe mine as well.
Reality was icy cold even as the day was a scorcher.
Sweat dripped down my spine as I finally pulled us into the dock and tied us down. I kept looking over my shoulder at the pedestrian traffic. There was no way he could be here—not really.
But I couldn’t escape the heaviness in my chest. When Priscilla hopped onto the deck, our usual reusable cooler bags in tow. I took her hand and some of it evened out.
We didn’t speak as I wound us through the crowd of people. The fuel stations were jammed with people. Instead of waiting, I drew her up the walkway to the marketplace.
The regatta logo was everywhere. Because my skin was crawling, I snagged a few T-shirts and paid cash for them.
“Put this on.”
She bit down against asking me why, but followed direction. Still feeling like we were too easy to spot, I ducked between the bazaar-like vendor tables until we were off the pedestrian paths.
I spotted an ATM and took out the maximum from two of my accounts. I tucked the majority of it into my clip, one in my belt.
“Are you—” She shook her head. “Never mind, of course you have your weapon.”
I pulled her close, tucking cash into her small purse. “If we get separated for any reason, I want you to head to the nearest store. Go right to the registers or manager and stay there. Stay around people.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“I’m being overly cautious. I just...I need you safe.” I cupped her face. “Do that for me?”
She nodded. “Stay around people. Go into a store.”
“Call Bastian. His number is programmed in here.” I slipped a small burner cell phone into her bag.
“You leave me and we’re going to have a big ole fight, Safety Locke.”
“The only way I leave you is if I’m dead.” I kissed her hard and took her hand again, crossing the vendor tents to the signs for the farmers’ market area.
It was busier than hell between the regular tourists and those in for the big race. The sun beat down on us adding to the anger building in me. No one was taking her from me—period.
The weeks we’d spent together created a well-oiled machine when it came to shopping for staples for the boat.
If I was going to push us hard for the next few days, I needed to make sure we had a good stash of food.
Instead of dallying over the specialty items, she seemed to understand we needed to shop for speed.
Fruits, vegetables, fresh bread, and jerky went into the bag. When we were done, I started to relax.
The closer we got to the marina, the more I could breathe.
Just a little longer and I could get her as far away from the Northeast as humanly possible.
A guy on an e-scooter zipped through the crowd of people. He had a hood up and a mask covered part of his face. Easily threading around the tourists, I spotted him lifting bags off easy marks.
When another scooter buzzed me, I jerked Cilla close to me. “Watch out.”
She stumbled into me. The guy—hell, I was pretty sure it was a teen—had a knife. He snapped the strap on Cilla’s purse and had it wrapped around his hand. She dropped to the grocery bag to the pavement. It was zipped closed thankfully.
I yanked him off the scooter which kept going and crashed into a trio of guys in regatta gear.
They turned with a pissed off shout and spotted me with the thief.
“Let me go, man!” The mask slipped and the kid was barely over sixteen, but he was fast. He disappeared into the crowd of onlookers who suddenly were way too close as far as I was concerned.
I jerked Cilla against me, stuffing her tiny purse into the bag on my arm.
Her attention was on the other kid zipping away.
“Cil?”
She turned wide, terrified eyes on me. “I saw...” She shook her head. “No, I’m just freaked out. I didn’t.”
“What did you see?”
She shook her head. “I had to be seeing things.” She touched her mouth. “But that mask.”
The kid looked over his shoulder, and he was wearing the same mask as the other thief. The wide smile, in cartoonishly evil teeth was just like the one the killer wore.
Unwilling to believe it was a coincidence, I dragged her through the crowd back to my slip.
“Get on the boat and lock yourself in the cabin.”
She didn’t argue—thank fuck—just scrambled onto the bridge deck and into the boat. I heard the slicking door slam shut. I scanned the crowd of tourists and boaters. No one looked out of the ordinary, but I didn’t trust it.
I tapped a guy who was filling up on his shoulder. “Hey man, I have to jet. Can I cover your gas and butt in?”
The older man in full boating gear down to his deck shoes frowned at me. “You can wait your turn, son.”
I flipped out the cash I just got—it was worth it to see his eyes bulge. No one turned down cash, least of all rich people. He shrugged and took the wad then stepped back.
I filled up, all the while scanning the people that came close to my boat.
It felt like it took forever to top off, but finally the diesel gauge clicked off. I pulled off and handed it back to the guy. Luckily the fuel was automated for pay here. I kept my eye on my boat as the payment went through.
I uncoiled the tether line and jumped onto my boat. I automatically flipped open all the portals and skylights so I could take off immediately.
“Cilla?” I called for her as I slipped through the sliding door.
She didn’t call back, making my heart stall out in my chest. “Cilla?” I called louder. I hurried down the stairs to the bedroom and found the door closed. I pounded on it.
She opened it, her face ashen.
I hauled her in. “We’re good. We’re fine.”
She jerkily nodded against my chest, her arms tight between us.
“I’m going to get us out of the port. You okay for a few minutes?”
She nodded and sat down on the bed.
I framed her face with my hands. “You’re safe.”
Her dark lashes were starred with tears that didn’t quite fall. “Safe.”
I kissed her hard, then left her to close the door after me. I heard the snick of the lock. It wasn’t going to keep anyone out—not really, but I appreciated it all the same.
I rushed topside and grabbed the SAT phone on my way up to steering. I dialed Bastian while I was backing the boat out of the slip.
“What happened?”
“It might be nothing.”
“You and I both know it probably wasn’t.”
I huffed out an annoyed breath. “A couple of kids were fleecing the tourists on e-scooters. They came right for us and tried to take Priscilla’s purse.”
“Okay...”
“They had hoods and masks on. The same mask with that grim fucking smile on it.”
Bastian was quiet. “It could be a coincidence.”
“It could.”
“Nyx found the mask, it’s readily available damn near everywhere that sells runner gear.”
“I still don’t like it. We’re heading out now.”
“Locke, I don’t think you should leave the area. Stay out to sea if you want but you won’t have any backup if you’re too far from us.”
“I’m already too far away for you to be useful anyway.”
“Then come back to Boston.”
“I won’t risk her. I can’t.”
Hating that my voice broke, I swallowed hard.
“Just give us a few days.”
As we passed another boat an explosion rocked the starboard side.
The SAT phone flew out of my hand as I slammed into cupboards. The sharp corner of the counter cut into my ribs and I went down on my knees.
The phone slid as the boat rocked, then settled.
The good thing about a catamaran was that it was nearly impossible to flip over.
I crawled over to the phone, jamming it into my pocket as I flew out to the bridge deck. I dragged myself up to look onto the right side of the boat and looked over the side.
We were taking on water.
A hole the size of my iPad in the hull was smoking.
I ran back to the bridge and into the kitchen. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and rushed over to the other hull. I used the right side mostly for storage. Smoke poured up the stairs and out the skylights that I’d opened to vent the boat after fueling up.
There was no way it was the fuel line.
Water was up to my ankles when I got to the bottom of the stairs. I opened the door and smoke roiled out as well as the sea water spraying up off the totes.
I hauled them back and dug deeper into the hull for what was smoking. I spotted my motorbike, the battery sparking. Had it blown...
No the blast was in not out of the hull.
Then I spotted bits of an explosive.
“Fuck.” I dug through the wet boxes and totes to find my emergency patch kit.
At least we wouldn’t fucking sink.
“Locke?” Cilla’s panicked voice came from the main cabin.
“Cil, I need your help.”
I heard her coughing as she sloshed down the hall. “Oh, God.”
I dug the SAT phone out of my back pocket. “Take this. Do you remember how to read the coordinates like I showed you?”
She nodded and took the phone.
“Call Bastian. Tell him we’re going to need a pickup.”
“Should I call the Coast Guard? Or whatever it is for the water?”
“If I can’t get this patch to work, we’ll call a mayday in to the marina.”
She looked over my shoulder. “Patch? That?”
I laughed. “Welcome to boating life. We won’t sink, don’t worry.” I dragged her in for a quick hard kiss. “Stay on the damn boat.”
“Okay,” she whispered and backed away.
I just hoped it was enough to hold us for help.