Chapter 23
The door of the cottage creaked open. Manny stepped out and walked straight toward Nash.
"Stop right there," Nash said when Manny was about twenty yards away.
Manny jabbed his thumb toward the cottage. "Mr. Chester wants me to check out what you brought. If it really is the jewels, he wants all of them this time. And then he'll let the girl go."
"Yeah, that was the deal," Nash said, purposefully sounding like the messenger and not the man in charge. He tossed the bag of jewels at Manny's feet. "Have a look. Emil says they're all there. But you don't take them to your boss until I see the girl."
Manny nodded and stooped to pick up the jewels.
"And don't try anything," Nash said. "I guarantee you, I am a much better shot than you are."
Manny sneered. "You don't need to threaten me. I'm just following orders. Like you."
Manny peeked in the bag, pulled out a necklace and a couple of bracelets, then tossed them back in. He turned to face the cottage. "It's all here!"
"Send Lena out!" Nash yelled. "He doesn't go anywhere with the jewels until I see her."
He could barely make out her silhouette through the front window. That wasn't good enough.
A muffled scraping sound escaped the cottage. Someone was dragging Lena's chair closer to the window. Another interior light turned on. Lena's innocent face, and a ridiculous amount of duct tape, appeared inches from the front window.
Chester called through the crack in the front door. "You see her now? I'm walking out. And after I'm clear of the cottage, you can come in. The boys got a little duct tape-happy. Have fun with that. But she's not hurt."
Chester walked out of the cottage. He locked his untrusting gaze on Nash while nervously sidestepping toward the waiting boat.
When he got to the pier, he called to Manny.
"Okay, bring the jewels to me. We're going.
" He swung a finger from Nash to the cottage.
"You can have the girl. But don't follow us or you'll get shot. "
Not likely.
Manny gripped the bag and walked backward toward the boat, apparently scared that Nash might shoot him in the back. He wouldn't do that, of course, but Manny didn't know that.
"Hang on," Nash called out. "Where's Frank?"
Chester grinned. "He's not here."
"I'm not an idiot," Nash said. He pointed his weapon at Chester. "I'm a good shot, Chester. Don't lie to me. You got your jewels. I'm not getting shot by one of your goons tonight. Get him out here. Now."
Chester scowled. "All right, all right." He glanced at the cottage and raised his voice. "Frank, come on. Come out to the pier. We're going."
Frank stumbled into the moonlight from behind the cottage.
Nash waved his gun toward the end of the pier. "All three of you, get in the boat."
"Gladly," Chester said. He grabbed the pouch of jewels from Manny and scurried across the creaky planks of the old pier, Frank shuffling through the sand to catch up. Until three stealthy masses rushed from the shadows, shouting orders for them to freeze.
Nash bolted for the cottage. He burst through the door and found Lena, her teary eyes smiling. The muffled sounds behind her duct-taped mouth were easy to interpret.
"I know, I know." He eyed the duct tape. "This is gonna hurt, baby, sorry."
The term of endearment just slipped out. But her gaze, so full of relief, and maybe much more, didn't seem to mind.
She nodded, and he ripped the duct tape off her mouth.
"Ow!"
"Sorry. Are you hurt?"
She rolled her lips in and out of her mouth, apparently determining they were still attached. "No. Not hurt. I'm all right."
"Anyone else around?"
"No. It was just Manny and Frank with Chester."
"Good." He glanced out the window and saw Jason, Knox, and Allie on the pier, weapons drawn.
He brushed the hair away from her eyes and held her face in his hands. Emotion in his throat threatened to choke him. "You scared me to death. You sure you're okay? Cassidy said you hit your head."
"I'll live. But don't let Chester get away. Don't let—"
"He's not getting away. Jason, Knox, and Allie are here. They're taking care of all three of them. Trust me, those three can handle Chester, Manny, and Frank."
Kneeling next to her, he sat back on his heels. And stared at the duct tape. "Those guys must've thought you're the Incredible Hulk or something. How many rolls of duct tape did they use?"
She tried to shrug. "I ticked them off. I think they were embarrassed that Cassidy got away so easily.
And they both tripped over the shelves I knocked over.
I tried not to laugh. But they looked like imbeciles falling over each other and the water toys and ice chests.
Honestly, my plan shouldn't have worked that well. "
He kissed her forehead. "You're amazing." More emotions than he'd ever felt swelled in his chest. He'd have to sort those out later.
"Got a knife?" she asked.
He chuckled. "Of course I do." He pulled the pocketknife from his pocket and, starting with her legs, began carefully slicing the duct tape. "I'll have you out of here in a second."
She watched out the window while he worked.
"How's it going out there? Can you see the boat?"
"It's so dark. I can't see much," she said, frustration nipping at her words.
Nash glanced out the window. "The boat didn't leave. And no one is shooting. Both good signs." The worry pulling her brows together pinched his heart. "Hey." He stroked his thumb across her cheek, still pink from the duct tape. "Trust my team. Everything's going to be fine."
She leaned into his hand. "I know. And I do. I'm just ready to get out of here."
He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "Working on it, ma'am."
Her muscles relaxed a fraction.
"Give me a few more seconds." He returned to his work, suppressing the temptation to rush. He'd never forgive himself if he cut her. Her legs and torso were finally free, and he started on her arms.
"Is Cassidy okay?"
"I didn't see her, but yes, Jason said she's fine. She's at The Mandeville. With Nutmeg."
"Oh, Nutmeg!"
The emotion in her voice for the little furball made him chuckle. "Who do you care about more?" He was kidding. Sarcastically insinuating she might care about Nutmeg more than Cassidy.
But when her eyes locked on his, she answered, "You."
Finally, her hands were free. She threw her arms around him, buried her face in his neck, and whispered against his skin, "I'm not afraid like I used to be. But I don't want to go through any of this again."
He held her tight against him. "I know. You won't."
He breathed her in and felt her heartbeat in time with his.
Their first few days may have been chaotic—no one would describe their introduction on the beach as a meet-cute.
But he knew there was more between them than adrenaline-fueled attraction.
And when they got back to the States, he fully intended to find out what it was like to spend time with Lena Ashworth when bullets weren't flying and family members weren't missing.
She leaned back and met his eyes, a soft smile on her face. "I think—"
Something crashed against the cottage door.
Nash sprinted through the small space to the door and threw it open. Fire engulfed the front steps and the porch. Flames licked at the door. He slammed it shut to slow the fire's progress into the cottage, but it wouldn't buy them much time. Someone must've used a liberal amount of accelerant.
Breaking glass alerted him to a flaming object hurtling into the cottage through the kitchen window.
Their exit options were dwindling.
He feared a second object would crash through the front window near Lena, but nothing happened.
He scanned the sparse cottage for any means of escape. "Help me with the couch."
Lena started coughing. "What?"
He ran to one side of the upholstered couch and lifted it.
"Get the other end. We're going to move it to the window and prop it up on its end.
Then we'll push it through the window. It'll be your path out.
It'll catch fire in a few seconds, so move quick.
Once it goes through the window, crawl across the couch and get free of the fire as soon as you can. Hold your breath."
For a second he was afraid she was going to say he was crazy. But she nodded. "Okay, let's do it."
They heaved the couch to the window and stood it up on its end. Nash tipped it over until it broke through the picture window. The bottom of the couch rocked back and forth over the windowsill like a sofa teeter-totter.
"Go, go, go now! Jump!" he shouted. She only needed to clear two feet of flaming porch to reach the safety of the sand. As long as she didn't hesitate—
Climbing onto the teetering couch gracefully in her party dress wasn't possible, but she didn't care.
Escaping the fire was her only goal. The serene beach beyond the flames shimmered like a mirage in the moonlight, promising safety—and breathable air.
She scooted across the outdated seating, the itchy upholstery scratching her knees.
Until the back of the couch ignited. Then all she felt was terror. She launched herself forward. The couch seesawed with her weight, landing on the burning porch. Flames licked the air to her right and left. No thinking. Just panic-jumping through the blaze.
She hit the sand, sucking oxygen into her burning lungs. Tears flooded her eyes, fighting against the stinging smoke. Through her blurred vision, she barely made out a Nash-sized mass land next to her. She heard his coughing more clearly than she saw his face.
"Come on." Nash's voice. Gravelly and insistent.
He pulled her to her feet and guided her away from the burning cottage.
Ear-piercing protests jerked their attention another twenty yards down the beach—where Knox held Delphine firmly pinned to the sand.
Lena's stomach twisted. The woman who'd been so friendly to her . . . had just tried to kill her. And Nash. The fact sickened her. She followed Nash closer to the pair, watching Knox secure Delphine's wrists with handcuffs.
"Is she our arsonist?" Nash asked.
"Yeah. Sorry it took me a minute to get to her. Jason and Allie have everyone else trussed up over there." He jabbed a thumb toward the pier where Chester, Frank, and Manny sat in an angry little row, hands secured behind their backs.
A pop echoed through the night, and the flames on the cottage grew.
"We need to get farther back. Away from the fire," Knox said. "Jason is calling the fire department on his sat phone, but it'll take them forever to get out here. At least the breeze isn't strong tonight. Hopefully, the fire will stay contained to the cottage."
They marched all four prisoners down a sandy path back to the road. When they reached the cars, Jason pulled out his sat phone again and started talking to important people, arranging logistics.
Squinting in the moonlight, Lena scanned Nash, head to toe, searching for any sign of injury. Or singed body parts.
His warm grin relaxed her anxiety a fraction. "I'm fine, Lena. You okay?"
She tried to take an inventory of herself, but so much adrenaline still surged through her that she wasn't sure she'd feel a broken bone if she had one.
But she was alive. And Nash was alive. And Cassidy was alive.
"Yes, I'm great."
His grin widened, unspoken emotion churning in his gaze.
She could relate. A plethora of emotions paraded through her as well. And she didn't think she could voice any of them if she tried.
With almost comical timing, Chester started grumbling at Delphine, triggering a shouting match between all four conspirators. Clearly, now wasn't a good time for a conversation about their feelings for each other.
But she welcomed his embrace as he tucked her against his chest and rested his chin on her head.
His steady heartbeat provided a comforting soundtrack while she attempted to process the drama of the last few hours.
God, thank you . . . thank you . . . thank you . . .