Chapter 17
Tayla inched to her right on the moist ground, then her left, trying to find a decent view of The Sea Queen without leaving the cover of the bushes. She was probably covered in dirt by now, but she didn’t care.
She scooted forward another foot and pressed herself into the branches for a better angle.
She heard a rustling behind her a moment before a rough hand clamped over her mouth. Someone pulled her backward and up off her feet. She couldn’t see his face, but it definitely wasn’t Jason. Or Knox. Or Leland. He held her against the front of his body, her legs kicking frantically in the air.
She heard laughing nearby. “What’s the problem, Charlie? You can’t handle her?”
Charlie—whoever that was—gripped her tighter. Her mind knew she would never come close to overpowering Charlie’s thick arms, but her legs didn’t get the message—they kicked out of instinct.
“Alright, enough,” said the other voice. He walked into her line of sight. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his arms looked as massive as Charlie’s. And he was holding a gun.
He made sure she noticed his weapon. “Calm down. Take it easy. Charlie’s going to put you down, and I don’t want to have to hurt you, so you’re not gonna run off, right?”
Charlie took his hand off her mouth. She considered screaming, but she wasn’t sure she should.
What if her scream diverted Dylan Kitts’ attention at the wrong moment?
She wished she knew Jason’s plan. She decided if Charlie and Ponytail tried to put her in a car, she would scream her lungs out and pray Leland, Knox, or Jason heard her.
But if Charlie and Ponytail led her to The Sea Queen, well, that wouldn’t be good, but she didn’t think screaming would help matters.
Ponytail apparently accepted her silence as an affirmative. “Come on,” he waved his gun toward the pathway between the road and the pier.
She forced her legs to carry her to the path, terrified of Ponytail’s intentions. When he directed her toward The Sea Queen, relief washed over her. For an entire two seconds. Then her anxiety for Jason, Leland, and Knox skyrocketed.
Dear God, please keep them safe. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what to do. But, please, please protect Jason, Leland, and Knox.
When they reached Rock Point Pier, Tayla expected something to happen. She had no idea what should be happening, but her quiet march down the empty pier felt anti-climatic.
Her fear recycled when she realized everyone must be on The Sea Queen.
“Follow Charlie,” Ponytail said, as Charlie stepped onto the gangplank. Ponytail walked behind her. She glanced back a couple of times, looking for what, she didn’t know. Her glance only annoyed Ponytail and confirmed a gun was still pointed at her.
An eerie silence hovered on The Sea Queen. Again, not at all what she expected.
She followed Charlie along a narrow walkway until he stopped and opened a rusty door. “Go in,” Ponytail instructed. When she stepped inside the musty space, she noticed Dylan Kitts’ baseball cap sitting near the helm.
“What are you doing here?”
She startled at the sharp voice. Only then did she notice two more men stood in the room, Dylan Kitts and the other man from the cell phone video—Gus’s killer.
The voice belonged to Dylan, who glared at Ponytail and Charlie. “What is this? Why did you come back here?”
Ponytail looked smug. “We caught her spy’n. From some bushes. Thought she might be worth somethin’ to ya. You said you were worried about spies out there.”
Dylan didn’t look happy. “You imbecile. I didn’t want to engage with them. We’re done with our business. I didn’t need to aggravate them. I was about to leave!”
Ponytail looked confused. “Want me to throw her overboard?”
Dylan looked like he wanted to throttle him. “No. No, I do not. Just get out of here. Go!”
“Leave the girl,” Gus’s killer spoke for the first time.
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
The man nodded.
Dylan turned back to Ponytail and Charlie. “Go on, get out. Leave her with us. And don’t talk to anyone else tonight or I’ll take back every cent I paid you, and more!”
Ponytail looked like he wanted to spit at Dylan. But he and Charlie both settled for disgruntled huffs and left.
Dylan’s gaze landed on Tayla. “Well, I think I know who you are. Faraday’s niece, am I correct?”
Tayla considered lying, but there didn’t seem to be any point. She nodded.
“Where is your uncle?”
“I don’t know.” And that was the truth.
“And the other WhiteRock boys? Two others, I believe?”
“I really don’t know.” His information must’ve come from Eric. Where was Eric? She didn’t especially want to see him, but his absence was confusing.
He looked out the windows, searching the darkness beyond the pier.
A thin veil of composure almost hid his unease.
“I don’t believe you, Miss Faraday, but they didn’t send you in here on purpose.
So, whatever their plan was, it’s gone sideways now.
And we’re hauling out of here before they can do anything about it. ”
He turned back to her, looking both annoyed and amused.
“Miss Faraday, welcome to The Sea Queen.” He lifted his chin toward the tall killer next to him.
“This is Thirteen. That’s not his given name, of course.
Even I don’t know his real name. But I call him Thirteen because that’s my lucky number. And he’s been very lucky for me.”
Thirteen’s ice cold stare—simultaneously intense and unemotional—made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
Dylan turned to Thirteen. “So, what’s your suggestion? We need to get going.”
“Yes, you do. We part ways here. I only came for the rest of my money.” He patted his chest pocket.
“Fine. But what about the girl?”
“You need her. You didn’t have a good plan tonight. You’re not in the clear until everything is unloaded.”
Dylan winced at Thirteen’s superior tone, but he seemed to seriously consider his words. “Okay, but before you leave, tie her up. I need to secure one of the crates and untie the lines so I can shove off.”
Thirteen scowled at him.
“Hey, I paid you more than enough. You can spare two minutes to tie her up. Come on, I need to get this stuff delivered. And I’ll have another job for you in a few weeks. You’ll be able to name your price. So, get her tied. I need to get out of here.”
Thirteen didn’t argue. Which Dylan seemed to translate as agreement. Because he nodded and left.
Thirteen pushed Tayla into a chair and grabbed some rope from a box near the door. He gripped her arms and crossed her wrists. “Hold still.”
The shock she’d been swimming in since Charlie first grabbed her morphed into fear—fear she was now drowning in.
This was really happening. Gus’s killer was here, touching her, cinching a tight knot around her wrists.
And she hadn’t caught a glimpse of Jason.
Or Leland. Or Knox. Where were they? Did they not see her escorted onto The Sea Queen?
She pulled against her bindings at first, but regretted it. Her efforts only rubbed her wrists raw.
A cold nauseating chill seized her body—they may have been hiding and not seen her at all. Jason may think she’s still waiting in the bushes by the road. If they didn’t know she was taken, they wouldn’t be coming for her. No one would.
Should she scream? Yes. It would anger Thirteen, but she had to be sure someone knew she was on The Sea Queen.
Except fear froze her. And took control. She wanted to scream. She wanted to kick. But her body wouldn’t listen. And nausea roiled through her.
She was barely conscious of Thirteen’s efforts to tie her ankles together. Bile rose in her throat. She concentrated on not vomiting. Slow deep breaths, slow deep breaths, slow deep breaths.
The rough rope dug into her skin. Feeling Gus’s murderer’s hands on her did nothing to quell her nausea. Or the panic threatening to steal her steady breathing.
He, on the other hand, didn’t seem affected by anything. His movements were quick and mechanical. He didn’t look her in the eye until he threw a quick smirk as he turned to leave. Then he was gone.
And she was alone. So very alone.
Through the closest window, she watched Thirteen cross the pier.
The lights of The Sea Queen cast a soft glow over him as he stooped to loosen a rope, then stood and boarded a speed boat.
He started the engine, but as he pulled away from the pier, a familiar form darted across the pier and leapt into the boat.
Leland! A breath later, beyond the reach of The Sea Queen’s lights, the darkness swallowed them.
What might be happening on that speedboat—and whether or not she’d ever see her uncle again—plunged cold terror through her body.
Her next thoughts strangled the last of her hope. Would Leland have taken off if he knew she was tied up on The Sea Queen? Were his actions proof that no one knew where she was?
She stared out the dirty window of The Sea Queen. Nothing. No one.
Leland was in danger. Jason wasn’t coming.
Unbidden images of a flooding sea cave in California overwhelmed her.
Panic seized her lungs. She sucked in air, faster and faster, until she saw stars.
The door opening, and slamming shut, jolted her from her downward spiral. She watched Dylan walk over to the helm and start the engine. “We’re going for a ride. Just sit tight. We’ll dock in about thirty minutes. As long as you cooperate, you’re going to be fine.”
She didn’t believe him.
She glanced out the grimy window one more time. Not much was visible in the darkness. But just beyond the pier, the outline of a rocky cliff shone against the moonlight.
A rocky cliff. Rock . . .
She almost heard a whisper.
Oh, dear God, be my rock, please be my rock right now. Help me! I’m hanging onto you, God. And if this is how my life ends, please, please don’t let Jason or Leland blame themselves. Please be their rock. Take care of Leland. And . . . and . . .
Jason’s face floated in her mind until her heart felt like it was about to burst. She couldn’t finish her prayer.
Dylan grabbed his cap, put it on, and took a long drink from a coffee mug. Looking at him, she realized it was now or never. She had to yell for help. She had to. And she had to do it now. Dear God, give me strength . . .
She cleared her throat and screamed “Heeelllp!” as long and loud as she possibly could.
Her sudden outburst startled Dylan into spilling his coffee and bellowing a string of expletives.
She continued screaming at the top of her lungs. “Help! Help! Help me! Please! Help!”
He stomped over to her and clamped a hand over her mouth—triggering an instinct she didn’t know she had. She opened her mouth and bit down on his index finger until he roared.
He used his other hand to hit her across the face so hard she released his finger and fell to the floor. With her wrists and ankles still bound with the rough, scratchy rope, she had no real hope of fighting him off, and braced for the worst.
The door swung open. Two sets of boots pounded into the room. Reflex forced her body to recoil, but she quickly realized she was no longer in danger.
Jason shoved Dylan against the wall with so much force that Tayla thought he might be unconscious.
“I’ve got’em Jason, I’ve got’em,” Knox said, pointing his gun at Dylan. “I’ll watch him, get—”
Tayla didn’t hear any more of Knox’s words. Jason filled her vision. The emotion on his face stole her breath.
He eased her to a sitting position and scanned her from head to toe. “Are you okay? Baby, I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”
Words stuck in her throat. She shook her head.
He pulled a knife from his pocket and cut her ankles and wrists free.
She threw her arms around his neck, hung on like her life depended on it, and finally sucked in her first deep breath in minutes. “I’m okay. I’m okay. Thank you.”
He pulled back and brushed his fingers across her cheek. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
She nodded again.
A breath later, his lips pressed to hers. His kiss was strong—intense with adrenaline, fear, and relief. And made her feel like nothing on earth could ever harm her.