Rick
The force of the explosion shoots me off the boat and slams me into the ocean.
It’s like landing on a sheet of glass, and the surface tension of the water only just breaks before I do.
I’m plunged into the depths and immediately start fighting against the weight of the Pacific to get back to Katarina.
The orange glow of an inferno draws me back to the surface and my first gasp of singed air is hot enough to burn my throat. The taste of diesel coats my tongue, but I swim towards what’s left of Nico’s boat.
The bow and mid-section took the brunt of the blast, and the wheelhouse has been shredded. The aft is mostly intact but the winch and heavy machinery at that end is making the wreck list and the stern is pointing to the water.
Plumes of black smoke block my vision and sting my eyes as I scour the wreckage. I can’t see Katarina. She could be lying on the deck, or else she was flung into the water too. What if she’s face down, unconscious?
I spin around, scanning every piece of debris that floats into view. “Katarina!” I yell.
No answer.
Flaming timbers hiss as they fall into the ocean. The wreck’s falling apart fast and I redouble my efforts to get closer, pushing charred flotsam out of the way to reach the stern that’s touching the water now.
I can’t go through this again. I won’t. If this is it for us, I’m done.
“Katarina, tell me you’re OK!” I roar.
She doesn’t answer as I claw up the side of the boat, the heated wood singing old cuts. My already scorched skin burns, but the only thing I feel is cold dread.
The wreck’s listing at a forty-five-degree angle, and I heave myself up onto the narrow walkway at the side of the ruined wheelhouse. Its walls are non-existent and the window frames to the front are shattered and splintered.
It’s only as I circle the wreckage that I see Katarina’s crumpled body. She’s lying unconscious on her front, her Kevlar vest pushed up, raising her arms.
Her clothes are covered in soot, her arms and legs bloodied, but… Thank fuck! Her back lifts as she takes a breath. She’s alive.
“Kitty, it’s me. I’m here, lovely,” I say, scrambling over the deck to reach her. I kneel down and tug on her shoulder, turning her so I can scoop her into my arms. She murmurs as her head comes to rest on my shoulder. “We’re going to be OK. I just need you to…”
My words turn to ash on my tongue as I pull her onto my lap and her body stretches out before me. Beneath her vest, her khaki t-shirt has turned a dark purple and the fabric glistens with blood. Lots of blood.
With a shaking hand, I lift her t-shirt and gag at the sight of the wound in her stomach. A doctor might describe it as catastrophic, but I’d kill any bastard brave enough to tell me I’m going to lose her now.
I apply as much pressure to the wound as I dare, not knowing if the shrapnel is still embedded in her stomach or not. I take a steadying breath and voice the only prognosis I’m willing to accept. “You’re going to be fine. Help’s on the way.”
Katarina’s beautiful face is smeared with soot. That has to be why her complexion is so grey. I count her ragged breaths as my ears strain for the sound of the Griffin’s helicopter. They will get here in time.
“Stay with me, Kitty,” I plead as the sound of water lapping over the deck grows louder. “This is only the beginning for us.” I swallow hard. “It’s not the fucking end. I’ll have none of that.”
Katarina’s eyelids flutter as she rouses into consciousness.
Her arms are splayed out at her sides and she’s too weak to move them, but her fingertips twitch.
She’s lost almost all of her red fingernails, except her middle finger aptly enough.
She can use that for a fuck you to death, or the devil, or whoever thinks they’re coming to take her from me.
“Hey, there,” I whisper, resting my back against the barely-there wall of the wheelhouse and bracing my feet against the winch so we don’t slip into the water.
I force a smile as her glazed eyes open.
“We did it, lovely. Your uncle’s dead and we get to do whatever the fuck we want now.
If you want to go after Grigor, we can do that. And Eric too.”
“Not… just Eric,” she rasps.
“You’re right,” I agree eagerly. “There are more bastards like him out there. Sasha can help us identify them.” A vision of our future forms in my mind.
It’s not a quiet retirement like the one Ash Griffin has opted for.
It’s bloody and vicious, but it offers the kind of purpose I always felt was lacking in my life.
“We’ll go after them all. We’ll make it our life’s work. Together.”
Katarina takes a shaky breath. She’s awake and fully aware in a way I wish she wasn’t. “Not together. You do it.”
I shake my head. “Not without you, Kitty. Not ever. I came here to save you and you’re not stealing that from me,” I insist, ignoring the tear trickling down the side of her face. “We do it together or not at all.”
“Shorty…”
“You can’t call me that until you’re back wearing your stilettos. Remember?”
She draws on her remaining strength to smile. “I love you.”
The words I should say back clog my throat. She’s saying goodbye and if I reply the same, she’ll leave. The hand I have pressed to her stomach feels warm and wet. She’s leaving anyway.
“I love you, Katarina. I love you with every bone in my body and every fiber of my being,” I say, forcing out the words. “I love you with every last breath I don’t want to take in this cruel as fuck world without you.”
She blinks once, but her lips are no longer moving. I feel her body sag as her eyes roll back in her head, and when her eyelids flutter closed, they don’t open again.
I pull Katarina to me, pressing her lifeless body tight against mine. I sob like a fucking baby and my choked cries vibrate against her neck. She’s still warm. No way has she left me. She wouldn’t fucking dare.
“No, no, no,” I repeat over and over again as the position of the boat tilts steeply.
I’d be staring down at the water lapping over my feet if my face wasn’t buried in Katarina’s neck. The ocean is slowly claiming us, and when we go down, we go down together. I promised I’d never leave her again, and she’s not leaving me.
The wind picks up as I say a silent apology to all the victims of human trafficking Katarina wanted me to help.
It’s too much to ask. I can’t help others when I failed the one person who truly mattered.
I don’t care if that makes me a coward, or a quitter.
And it’s not like my family hasn’t already grieved for me. And as for my friends…
The whoosh of chopper blades grows too loud to ignore, and as the updraft churns the water, it rises up to my waist and over Katarina’s legs. I tip back my head and sniff away my tears.
“No fucking way,” I curse as Mace Griffin climbs onto the feet of the helicopter hovering over my head.
Ash is at the controls and I gesture for him to get the fuck away.
Smoke and sea water sting my eyes as I attempt to outstare the man behind the reflective aviator glasses, but Ash is the master of stoic expressions.
I’ve no idea what he’s thinking, but if he’s planning on removing me from the boat against my will, he can fuck off.
“I’m not leaving her!” I yell, though I doubt either of the Griffins can hear me, or would pay any attention if they could.
Just the thought of letting go of Katarina tears a sob from my throat. I’m pathetic and I know exactly what she’d say.
“How the fuck did I ever fall for such a cry baby?”
I suck in a lungful of air that has me choking on diesel fumes and ocean spray.
“Seriously, Shorty,” she rasps. “If you’re not going to bother saving me, I’ll save myself.”
The only reason I can hear Katarina’s weak voice over the thunderous whoosh of chopper blades is that I feel the vibration against my shoulder.
I’m almost convinced I’ve imagined it, but as I loosen my grip enough to see her face again, Katarina’s eyes are open.
She’s not so dead that she can’t glare at me.
“I thought–”
“Then think less,” she cuts in. “Do.”
My gaze snaps up to Mace, who’s slowly being winched down. “Hurry the fuck up! Jesus Christ! We haven’t got all fucking day, gobshite!”
Mace beams a smile from twenty feet above us. “Welcome to Air Griffin, please have your boarding passes ready. Today’s inflight entertainment will be… me.”
Only Mace could make you want to hug him with one arm and punch him in the face with the other. “Please tell me it’s not Hunter winching you down.” I couldn’t cope with three of the smug pricks crowing about saving me after the day I’ve had.
“It’s Simon,” Mace calls back. The Griffins’ bodyguard is built like a brick shithouse and it’ll be a wonder if the rest of us will fit in the helicopter with him. “But I’ll tell Hunter you were missing him.”
Mace sets his feet down, straddling the deck as he assesses Katarina. She’s barely conscious now. His expression is pinched and he won’t meet my eyes. Thankfully, he’s not quite crazy enough to tell me how bad it looks.
“Put this around her,” he says offering the second harness to loop beneath Katarina’s arms. “I’ll pull her up first.”
“You don’t touch her,” I say. “I’m taking her up.”
“Fuck that. I’m not giving you my harness.”
“I didn’t ask you to,” I hit back. “I’ll carry her.”
When Mace speaks, he’s talking to Ash through the microphone fitted to his helmet. “He’s doing the old you can’t touch my woman, routine.” There’s a pause, then, “No, he copied it from me… Sure, whatever… Yeah, I’ll tell him.”
“Tell me what?” I demand. There’s less boat and more ocean by the second.
“Ash says they can lift all three of us together if it’s going to stop you bawling your eyes out again.”
“I wasn’t bawling my eyes out,” I say as I slip into the harness and secure my hold on Katarina. She’s so fucking pale. “My eyes were stinging with the smoke.”
“He was crying,” Katarina pipes up.
It was ridiculous to ever think my woman would go quietly.
Mace gives Ash and Simon a thumbs up and the cable attached to his harness pulls taut. He’s the first to rise off the boat, and with a tug, Katarina and I quickly follow.
Mace and I are tethered so that I’m staring at his chest, Katarina wedged between us. The full weight of her limp body has my arm muscles screaming, and I pretend not to notice when Mace takes some of the strain.
“We need to get her to hospital fast,” I say as we watch the blood oozing from Katarina’s stomach wound.
“We have medics on standby, plus we have Simon,” Mace says, shouting at the top of his voice as we get closer to the helicopter. “He was a bouncer for years and he’s dealt with plenty of knife wounds. He’ll look after her.”
He rolls his eyes when he sees me bristle. “Do we need to sedate you before we lay hands on her?”
“As long as everyone treats her with the respect she deserves, we’re good.”
Mace maneuvers us past the feet of the helicopter and Simon reaches for us with his bear-like hands.
As we clamber aboard, Simon helps us set Katarina down. We know each other, but I don’t know him well enough to hand my woman over to his care without some push back.
“If you let her die, I’ll kill you.”
Simon glances at Mace. “Can we throw him back?”
“I’d let you, but Ash has a soft spot for him for some reason.”
Simon’s paws are surprisingly gentle as he examines Katarina’s wound and sets about staunching the bleeding and administering fluids through an IV.
The helicopter sweeps over the wreck as it’s disappearing beneath the waves, and Mace hands me a set of earphones.
“Glad to have you on board,” Ash says without turning around.
“Be sure to make it a smooth ride, we’re carrying precious cargo,” I tell him because a simple thank you would have my emotions bubbling to the surface again and I’ve made enough of a fool of myself for one day.
“Did you kill Vasili?” Ash asks.
“No,” I reply. I leave a pregnant pause before I add. “She did.”
Mace slaps my shoulder. “Who knew Katarina would turn out to be a goddamn legend.”
I elbow him sharply. “I did.”