Chapter 47
HATCH
Her blanket smells like Old Spice.
I hold it up between two fingers like evidence, which it basically is, because Harry swore on his life he didn’t have it, and yet here it was—Dinah’s favorite blanket hidden and folded neatly inside his linen closet on his side of the bungalow behind a stack of guest bed sheets and tablecloths that haven’t been touched since the Clinton administration.
“Damn thief,” I mutter, stuffing it into the bag with Dinah’s food, her bed, and the mouse toy she’s been missing since the day she got here that I found wedged behind Harry’s recliner. The man was running a cat custody racket out of a duplex.
I’m grinning when my phone buzzes.
The smile dies at the sight of the name on the screen.
Acehole.
I consider letting it ring. Kian McKennon and I have perfected a rhythm by now—he calls, I dodge, he calls again, I pick up and piss him off, he threatens me, I hang up, we do it all again tomorrow. It’s practically a love language at this point.
But Lucy asked me to handle this. I can give her this much.
I sigh and answer as. I
“What’s up Aceho—”
“Shut the fuck up and listen for once in your goddamn life.”
My mouth goes dry. Kian’s voice has a particular quality when he’s genuinely furious—the Irish bleeds through the Vegas polish until every consonant sounds like it’s being bitten off and spat. Right now, every consonant is getting murdered, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
“I saw the footage, Fury,” he continues. “Of you and my daughter in that candy room.”
The floor tilts under me. Not literally. But close.
“Kian, I can—”
“Quiet. Castle sent it to me himself, and considering I know you for the piece of shit you are by now. I know it’s true. He really wants me to hate you.” His harsh, menacing chuckle huffs out, ending in a growl. “Guess what, Fury. It fucking worked.”
“Listen to me, Kian—”
“I said shut the fuck up.” His voice drops as he hisses. “I trusted you. You promised you’d keep her safe, and instead you’ve been so preoccupied with getting your dick wet you let her get hurt.”
Fuck.
“I handled Frog,” I cut in, my jaw tight enough to crack teeth. “I got her out of that room, McKennon. I was there.”
“You were still too late. “
That one… now that one lands.
“And now I know why. Distractions kill in our business. I no longer trust you to take care of my daughter.”
The silence stretches until Kian fills it.
“My team and I are on the way.” His voice is flat now. Done with me. “When we get to that island, you’d better be gone, because the next Fury I see is a dead one.”
The call ends.
I stare at the phone, my hand shaking, which pisses me off, so I squeeze it into a fist and stuff the phone in my pocket.
Well fuck.
Kian saw me giving his daughter an orgasm.
Honestly, I’m surprised he gave me the courtesy to warn me that he was going to murder me.
Especially since he’s right. If I’d come here and kept my distance, Lucy wouldn’t have been on Castle’s radar to begin with.
But I’ve never had much restraint, and I’ve had half that with the woman who was supposed to be my wife.
I told Lucy half an hour, and it’s already been fifteen minutes.
By the time Kian’s here, Lucy and I will be literal ships in the night with his.
The irony is, I want Lucy to go home, but that’s all up to her.
Even though she’s scared about being used as a pawn, being on the run has been more detrimental to her psyche, this morning in the ocean proved that.
Hopefully we can work something out, and hopefully whatever that something that has Kian not cutting off my balls.
I find Harry in his living room, Dinah draped over his belly like the spoiled little princess she is, while Harry pretends he’s not scratching behind her ears.
They both spare me a glance as I walk in, one filled with mild irritation and the other precious adoration.
He’s watching an old football game highlight on ESPN, and something in my chest pinches.
I’m gonna miss the old bastard.
As I pass the sidetable, I retrieve the spare injector Harry kept for me for emergencies, sliding it into my pocket.
Looking around, I don’t see anything else of mine and Dinah’s that traveled from my side to his, so I finally address the man who’s been my reluctant bungalow mate and friend, knocking on his paneled wall to get his attention.
“We’re leaving Wander Isle.”
Harry’s hand stills on Dinah. “We?”
“Me, Lucy, Dinah. Tonight.” I drop the bag by the door. “Which means you should probably think about moving on too. Castle knows who I am. He knows who she is. Which means, he probably knows who you are to the Furys too.”
I blow out a defeated breath. “Sorry man, I never meant to put you in danger. But whatever protection you had, your cover’s blown.”
Harry studies me for a long moment, his dark brown eyes unreadable. Then he slowly nods, not a hint of surprise or bother on his expression, like he’s been waiting for this conversation for weeks.
“Yeah. I reckon this is the end of the road for me anyway.”
I gasp playfully. “Harry, don’t talk that way. You’ve got at least a year, maybe two, left in you.”
He glares at me. “Boy just how old do you think I am?”
“Well pretty sure the Bible says we cap out at one-twenty so…” I pretend to count on my fingers. “That makes you one hundred and—”
“Bah.” He waves at me. “I was gonna say I was thinking about heading back to Appalachia. Thanks for reminding me you would be there.”
“Wait, for real?” My smile kicks up. “You know… there’s someone back home who’d love to see you.”
His jaw tightens, but I don’t miss the twitch of a smile. “Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying. My brother’s wedding is coming up.” I sing-song the rest. “Might be able to finagle you a tiiick-et.”
The old man’s face does something complicated, hope and stubbornness fighting for the same real estate. Stubbornness wins, of course, but only barely this time.
“I said don’t start,” he grumbles, though his voice has gone soft at the edges. I didn’t hear a no.
“Alright, alright,” I say instead, leaving him be for once. I heft the bag over my shoulder and scoop Dinah out of Harry’s hands. She doesn’t miss a beat purring. “You’ve been a good sport, dealing with my shit, so I’ll let this one go—Chessy?”
Chessy scratches at the glass door to the porch and I frown as I let him in. He runs straight to me and into my arms, making me jostle Dinah.
“Hey little dude.” I step outside onto the porch and scan the area, but I don’t see Lucy anywhere. “Where the hell is your momma? Ah!” The little jerk nips me hard on the hand. “Ow! Jesus, what the hell?”
I set him down gently, keeping Dinah, but he bites and tugs at my pants, growling.
Harry looks at me as he picks him up and starts petting, frowning at him. “You came all the way up here without a chaperone, huh?”
“Yeah, and with an attitude, apparently,” I snap, as he hisses and tugs Harry’s shirt too.
“Listen, he’s ornery, but this is different. You gotta pay attention when things change character.” He gentles his voice. “What is it, boy?”
Chessy yowls loudly as Harry joins me outside on the porch, and while I look to the beach on the left of the corner, Harry looks right.
“What the hell?” he mutters.
“‘What the hell,’ what?” I arrive at his side, holding Dinah protectively, noting Harry doing the same with Chessy.
The sun is pretty much down, and around a quarter mile beyond Harry’s own dock at the mouth of the marsh is Wander Isle’s main port with houseboats and trawlers filling every slip. All but one.
The slip where Fancy’s Haven should be is empty.
Harry goes rigid beside me. His hand tightens on Chessy until the cat hisses, and for a second, the stubbornness and gruffness fall away, leaving something raw underneath. A man staring at an empty space where decades of longing used to float.
“Where the fuck is my Fancy’s boat?”
“Lucy.” I breathe. I’m about to set off in a sprint, when my phone buzzes again expecting the worst.
But it’s not Kian this time. In fact there’s no caller ID at all. I almost don’t answer. But my gut is screaming, and I press the answer button.
“Whoever this is, talk.”
“Oh good, I was betting on you picking up.” Castle’s voice is warm and inviting, like a man calling to confirm a dinner reservation. “Lovely evening, isn’t it, Hatter? Or I guess, would you prefer Hatton now? I figure we should at least be on a first name basis after you killed one of my men.”
I hand off Dinah to Harry as he passes me and goes inside the bungalow, dropping the cats inside and closing the door behind him. I can’t move, my eyes on staying on the empty slip.
“Where is she?” I ask, not taking the bait.
“Straight to business. I appreciate that.” A faint sound, ice clinking against a glass. The son of a bitch is pouring himself a drink. “I’ve got a few bets running, and since the initial betrayal played out just as DarkBoard predicted, I thought you’d be interested in the rest of your odds.”
“Look, man. I’m not in the mood for your games—”
“Kill me at The Rabbit Hole.” He says it like he’s reading a wine list. “Currently sitting at ten percent. That one’s fallen, actually. It was fifteen this morning.” Another clink. “But in the spirit of the gamble, I made myself available to you, just in case.”
Irritation boils in my veins. “What are you—”
“Choose to save Alice instead.” My heart hammers to a stop. “That’s at ninety. So the market’s got a pretty clear read on your priorities, I’d say.”
The blood roaring in my ears makes it hard to think. Harry is beside me now, gripping my arm, mouthing what. I put my finger to my lips and press the phone for speaker.
“Huh,” Castle continues, almost to himself. “So they took the houseboat altogether. Interesting. That was only at thirty-five percent. Bold move. The Wildes do love their flair.”
The name hits me like an exposed nerve. After a beat, he inhales.