Chapter 16 #2
“The two men we knocked out and locked up in the storage room were freed before we could get back to them. They put up a fight.” Chris didn’t describe what happened next, and she imagined he didn’t want to elaborate on how he killed those men.
“Shit went sideways when the storm hit. We made it to the bridge, and between the huge waves and an issue with the battery, the bilge pump stopped working, and the hull took on water. We were on the verge of going into Davy Jones’ Locker. ”
She raised a brow, and he smirked. A joke even now.
“What? Sailors use some pirate lingo, too.” He gently placed her arm back beneath the blanket. “But, um, we had no choice but to take everyone out even though we would have preferred to keep a few alive for questioning.”
“Would’ve had a hard time bringing one on board this boat, though. Surely they’d have been a problem,” Roman pointed out.
“I understand,” Rory said with a nod, letting them know she wasn’t judging their life-or-death decisions. “Anything distinguishable about them?”
She thought back to the snake tattoo of the man lying on the deck of the yacht, who she now realized was most likely dead. The inkling of recognition hung around in her mind, but it was still too wispy to make the connection.
“First guy spoke English. No accent,” Chris said. “And the other five guys, no clue other than I’m pretty sure all continents were represented in our abduction aside from Antarctica.”
“What he’s saying,” Harper went on as they rocked with the waves, the engine fighting against the current, “is we overheard several languages spoken, and nothing stood out that would help us identify anything about them. The phones are disposable. Not helpful in determining info. Not even a wallet or ID card on any guy. They probably had their passports locked in a safe box or something.”
“Shit. I just . . .” Guilt. Waves like the ones crashing their little boat hit her with relentless force. “What island are we near?” She needed a distraction. Needed hope.
“Mona, which looks to be about forty-five miles from mainland Puerto Rico.” Chris tucked the GPS into a dry pocket of the boat.
“Mona?” Better than a deserted island, but their hope of using one of those cell phones was now gone.
“Have you been there before?” Chris peered at her, soaking wet in his white dress shirt. His tie was gone. Shoes still on, unlike her.
She still had to ask about the clothing situation, but . . . “Yeah, and Mona Island can be a paradise if you’re looking for an exotic vacation without potable water or cell service.”
“Fuck, okay.” Chris shook his head.
“It’s also not for the faint of heart. Uninhabited aside from one ranger.
” She considered her time there. It’d been the summer, and chartered excursions from Puerto Rico were regular.
But they wouldn’t allow visitors to the island at a time like this.
“With the storm, I don’t think many, if any, will be visiting the island.
It’s hard enough to travel there on a sunny day. ”
Chris stared quietly at her as if contemplating her response and probably wondering why she’d been to the island in the past. They needed to make it to safety before she unraveled her memories and pieced together why this was all her fault.
Besides, her thoughts were still diluted and unfocused from whatever shit her abductors had injected into her veins.
She would regroup once the symptoms from the drugs wore off, then figure out what in the hell happened and how to save them.
“What else do you know about the island?” Chris asked a moment later. “We should all be prepared. What kind of animals?”
Rory thought back to when she’d tracked an antiquities smuggler to Mona.
Her first and only time there. “No venomous snakes, but some boas. Goats and pigs. Iguanas. Nothing particularly dangerous. The place is a safe haven for sea turtles and seabirds. But there are a lot of poisonous plants. Not many navigational signs, so it’s easy to get lost. And depending on where we land, it might be a good idea to head for the caves.
There’s fresh water accessible in some.”
“Caves? Okay, that could be good,” Harper said with a nod, sounding optimistic when everything felt as though it were falling apart as their little boat moved with the waves. A tiny toothpick in the sea.
“Okay, yeah, I’ve heard of this place. I remember now,” Roman spoke up. “Twenty or so miles of tunnels. Mona Island is actually home to one of the largest coastal caverns in the world. Right?”
Rory stared at him in surprise. “Yeah,” she returned softly.
“I was kind of hoping we were done with caves for the year after Budapest,” Chris said in a low tone, and Rory had no idea what he was talking about. “Long story,” he casually tossed out as if their world wasn’t rocking. Literally. “Anything else we should know?”
Rory swallowed the lump in her throat and let go of a deep breath. “If there is anyone there on a weekend during a storm, well, they won’t be friendly.”
“Meaning?” Roman twisted back to look her way, his dark eyes pinning her with a curious gaze.
“Smugglers. Traffickers.” Rory lifted her shoulders, the blanket moving with her. “Modern-day pirates.”
Little drumming sounds had Rory opening her eyes. The rain was coming down harder on the canopy top, but . . .
She shifted upright, realizing she’d dozed off. They weren’t on the water anymore.
Shit, she’d nearly forgotten—they’d made it to shore and slept overnight in the lifeboat.
Land, I’m on land. She peered around to see Harper asleep, her head resting on Roman’s chest, his arm draped around her body. A second emergency blanket was on their lower half.
But where was Chris?
Rory shifted to her knees and unzipped the canopy to peer outside.
No sign of him.
Once she stepped out of the safety of the shelter, she was greeted by a dark bluish-purple sky and the sight of Chris standing near a line of trees, his back to her. He was probably trying to get his bearings.
The guys had pulled the boat far enough up on the white sand to prevent any chance of drifting back into the ocean while they’d slept, and thank God for the canopy that protected them from the rain, but they wouldn’t be able to stay in there forever.
Rory zipped the opening closed again, careful not to wake Harper or Roman, tightened her hood against the rain, and walked across the wet sand toward Chris.
He turned and spotted her, then met her halfway and pulled her into his arms as if it’d been weeks since he’d seen her.
She pointed to the wooded area twenty feet away for cover since he didn’t have a rain jacket and gasped in surprise when he hoisted her into his arms.
“You don’t have shoes. Don’t want you getting hurt.”
She wanted to protest, but he was stubborn. So, she looped her arms over his shoulders, clasped her hands behind his neck, and let him help her, knowing it’d make him feel better.
Whoever had taken them captive must have tossed her heels for some reason. But whatever happened to the red dress Ella made for her? And oh, Ella, she’d be a mess when she learned Rory was gone.
Chris made his way to the trees Rory had pointed out and gently set her down on a soft bed of fallen leaves, then leaned his back against the bark and encircled her waist with his arms, pulling her close.
The canopy of branches and leaves overhead provided some cover from the rain, but a few drops still trickled through, providing a gentle rhythm to the chaos of the past twenty-four hours.
She dropped her gaze to take in the sight of her new ensemble—a rain jacket over a pale blue tee, paired with black drawstring shorts that were a bit too short.
She searched her memory for who’d changed her but came up empty.
Harper was wearing a replica of Rory’s outfit, except her shirt was light pink.
“Harper,” he said as if reading her thoughts. “We found some clothes in a bag on the yacht. And by yacht, I mean rust bucket. There was some stuff thrown together. Two shirts, two pairs of shorts, and a toothbrush and toothpaste.”
“And how’d you know I was thinking that?”
“I figured once the shock wore off, you’d wonder, and I didn’t want you to think some asshole had put his hands on you.”
But someone’s hands had been on all of them. And more than once. The four of them were taken from that hotel without raising any alarms.
She looked down at her feet. “They didn’t pack me any flip-flops, huh?”
“Unfortunately not.”
“I think I know one of those men on the yacht,” she told him when a memory of the inked man crowded her mind again. “But I can’t remember how, or who he was.”
“Shit, Rory, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.”
“What do you have to be sorry about? This is all my fault. I’m sure we were taken because of me.”
“We don’t know that for sure. I told you my work is dangerous.” But he was just being nice—not wanting her to accept blame.
“We were at an event connected to me,” she pointed out.
“And it can’t be a coincidence we woke up on a yacht in the Caribbean off the coast of an uninhabited island that I’ve been to, either.
Plus, a bag of women’s clothes conveniently on board?
Sounds like they planned to just grab me, and y’all got pulled along for the ride. ”
“Regardless, I’m sorry.” He lifted one hand to sweep his thumb over her cheek. “I should’ve pushed harder to get you to open up. I let my own problems get in the way.” His tone was husky with regret, and his words were going to shred her. “And the scars . . .”
“Don’t you dare try and take the blame. I won’t have it.
” She slid her hands up his wet shirt and set them on his chest. “I’m stubborn, and I was worried the more you knew, the more danger you’d be in.
” She fought back the tears that threatened.
“I’d planned to tell you after the gala.
I promise.” I was too late. “I had hoped they’d never find me. ”
“Who are ‘they’?”
There was so much to say, but they needed to focus on their survival, so she avoided his eyes and changed the subject. “Bear,” she whispered. “He’s all alone.”
“Someone will realize we’re gone and go to my house. I already thought of that.”
Rory found his eyes again, knowing he wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easily.
She wouldn’t have if she were him. But she hoped he’d trust her.
Give her a chance to explain everything.
Maybe when they weren’t stranded on an island in the middle of a storm that Mother Earth was sending their way to remind them of the power she wielded.
“Elaina knew you needed us with you last night. It wasn’t a double-date matchmaker situation like I had hoped. She just knew.” He paused. More guilt in his eyes. In the rigid lines of his body. “I ignored my instincts last night. I had a bad feeling the moment we stepped into that ballroom, and I—”
“Don’t.” She shook her head, and his palm cupped her cheek. “I can’t handle you doubting yourself.”
A quiet moment passed before he whispered, “And I can’t begin to imagine what would have happened if we hadn’t been taken, too. And I don’t know why they’d want to take . . .”
. . . You. He left off that part of his statement, but she heard it just the same, a whisper in the wind. Because they were there for her.
“When the rain stops and we get somewhere safe, I’ll tell you everything.” She sniffled.
“Okay,” he said softly, and she looked left, then right, trying to place their location, but all she saw were trees and shrubs.
“Do you know what part of the island we’re on?”
He grimaced. Bad news? “The opposite side of where the ranger is supposed to be according to the GPS.”
“Of course.” She smoothed a thumb over the buttons of his shirt. The fabric molded to his body, outlining every ridge and muscle. “Thank you for saving us.”
His lips crooked into a smile. “It was a team effort.”
And of course, he wouldn’t be a showboat and take credit.
“Rory, I, um . . .”
“I know.” No words were needed. She felt the same for him—a deep connection that went beyond desire, relieved they were both alive and okay. They could get through this together.
He cupped her face, his hands sliding beneath where the plastic of the hood covered her ears. In the space of a heartbeat, he captured her lips, and it was as if he had breathed new life back into her.
One hand remained on her face as his other hand moved beneath her jacket and shirt, then up to palm her breast. He smoothed her nipple between his thumb and finger, a reminder of the pleasure they’d shared before everything went sideways last night.
A burst of heated desire flooded her body, warming her chilled skin.
She groaned against his mouth, shocked she was still standing after yesterday. Surprised she was kissing him, wanting him to devour her, despite all they’d been through in the last twenty-four hours.
But they hadn’t gone down with the boat.
They survived.
And it dawned on her that there was only one way forward—one way to truly move on.
She had to finish what she’d started before Carter had stopped her in her tracks.
It’d be the only way to keep her family and friends safe. The only way she’d be able to live her life without constantly looking over her shoulder for a shadow.
She had to come up with a plan to take down the man she’d been after for years.
A legendary figure no one had seen.
But he was real.
And it was time for the legend to fall.