Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Max was going to vomit. The room was spinning and every muscle in his body hurt. He could taste blood, tangy and metallic, in his mouth, and one of his eyes was swollen shut. So much for his grand plan to bring Poole down.
"Stop," Damien ordered as he came out from behind his desk.
The henchman stepped back without a word, but Max saw his smile. He was pleased with his work.
"As much as I'm enjoying this, it will have to wait." Damien fastened his suit jacket as he walked to the front of his desk. "I have a very important meeting I must attend."
Huh.
Looked like the meeting was on after all. Max hoped they drowned in the storm. He smiled at the thought then winced when his lip began to throb.
"Why are you smiling?" Damien demanded.
Max heard his voice through the ringing in his ears. It made it seem melodic.
"No reason," he said. "No reason at all."
Damien gestured to his guard and the man punched Max in the gut, stealing the breath right out of him. He convulsed and gasped for air. Slowly, his diaphragm relaxed and he could breathe again.
"I'll ask one more time," Damien said. "Why are you smiling?"
What the hell? He had nothing to lose by telling the bastard he was on to him. "I was hoping you'd drown at sea."
Damien's gaze turned sharp and assessing. "Why would I drown at sea? Why would I even be on the water on a night like this?"
The room began to swim and Max could barely think straight. "Because you're going to meet your business partner." He fought to lift his head and stare at the devil. "Your secret partner."
Without warning, Damien picked up a paperweight and threw it at the wall. It smashed and showered the floor with glass fragments.
"Temper, temper," Max said.
Suddenly, Damien rushed at him, grabbing his arms and forcing him to look up into the monster's soulless eyes.
"What do you know about my partner?" he demanded.
If Max wasn't mistaken, along with the anger in his expression, there was also a touch of fear. He tried to smile again, but it hurt too damn much.
"You'll never know," he said.
Damien let out a roar, stepped back and struck Max across the face. His head whipped to the side and his eyesight faded in and out for a second or two.
Don't pass out, he told himself. Don't pass out.
He breathed through the pain. Damn. Everything hurt so much. Violet had been right. He should have brought her with him. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. She was the last person on the planet who needed protecting. Plus, he was a writer, not a fighter.
Hey, that rhymed.
He tried to smile but it hurt all over again.
Damien adjusted his linen jacket. "Keep an eye on him," he told the guard. "Keep your hands off him until I'm ready to deal with him personally."
The guard looked disappointed. "You want me to keep him in here or move him someplace else?"
"He can stay here. I'm meeting my friend in the sitting room."
Max's head jerked up at that. What? They were meeting on the island?
Damien saw his reaction and smirked. "Seems you don't know everything, Maximillian. My partner has decided to come to the island after all. The water is too dangerous tonight—in more ways than one."
"That's why you're still here." Max had the worst luck.
"Ah," Damien said, knowingly. "You thought you'd poke around in my business while I was off the island." He shook his head in an imitation of pity. "Has anybody ever told you that you suck at being a reporter?"
"Hey," Max said. "I've won awards for my work." Not that he cared, but it was the principle.
"Awards are useless," Damien said. "You should have chased money instead."
"Spoken like a true megalomaniac," Max muttered.
What a disaster. And he only had himself to blame.
He should have listened to Violet and let the team do their job.
But no, he'd panicked at the thought of his story getting away from him—at Damien getting away.
And now look where it'd landed him. The movies had a phrase for people like him—TSTL, too stupid to live.
Damien flashed his crocodile smile before he spoke to the guard. "One more thing. Send a couple of men over to Max's accommodation to retrieve his wife. I think it would be fun if she was here for this."
"She already is," came a familiar voice.
Max jerked and spun toward the patio, afraid he was hallucinating. He almost wept when he saw Violet standing in the open doors, wind whipping her hair. It was as though she'd been conjured out of the storm by the force of his need.
An avenging angel, dressed entirely in black, and soaked to the skin, Violet dared anyone to challenge her.
Behind her, the storm raged. Thunder boomed ominously and lightning flashed, illuminating the scene in a spectral glow.
Leaves and debris blew inside to whirl around her.
If she'd been carrying Thor's hammer, Max wouldn't have been surprised. She was glorious.
The guard grabbed his gun and pointed it at her.
Violet never even blinked.
Her eyes were steady on Damien. "You have my husband," she said. "I want him back."
"Hi, honey," Max said through swollen lips. "I screwed up but it's good to see you."
"Stop talking," she gritted out, making him want to kiss her.
Damien, it seemed, had gotten over the shock of Violet's entrance and now stared at her in fascination. "Come in, Mrs. Durant," he said, sounding as though he was greeting her for afternoon tea.
"The name is Lee. Violet Lee." She didn't even glance at the guy with the gun aimed at her head. Instead, she glared at Damien. "Take a good look at my husband. Note every mark that bastard left on him. Because I intend to replicate them on you."
"As threatening as that sounds, coming from someone of your intimidating stature—" Damien foolishly mocked the woman who'd ridden in on the wind "—it will have to wait. I have a meeting to get to. Arlo, do the honors and secure Mrs. Durant."
The goon touched the comm in his right ear and another armed man rushed into the room. The new guy quickly assessed the situation, wisely deduced Violet to be the main threat, and aimed his gun at her.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," Damien said with a polite nod. "I have business to attend to."
Then he swept out of the room.
Violet was pure fury.
Blood dripped from Max's cheek, his eye was swollen shut and his lip was torn. It would not do. Nobody was allowed to hurt Max.
He belonged to her.
The guard called Arlo, the one she'd already marked for death, motioned with his gun. "Over to the desk. Kurt, empty her pockets."
Violet walked slowly past him, keeping her eyes on his, hoping he'd read the promise in them.
"You die first," she told him.
She was gratified when he took a small step back, before rallying with bravado. "You're the one that's gonna die, bitch." He sneered. "After the boss has some fun with you first, in front of your husband. Don't worry. He'll like it. All the husbands do."
"Oh, she is gonna hurt you for that," Max said.
He sounded dopey and amused, and she feared he'd suffered one too many hits to the head.
"I'm still angry with you," she told him as Kurt used the strap on his automatic weapon to hang it over his shoulder.
One less moron with speedy access to his gun.
"That's fair," Max drawled. "There's no denying I totally screwed up."
"Shut up," Arlo snapped. "No talking."
Violet turned on him. "Don’t,” she snapped. “I'm the only one who gets to tell him to shut up."
Arlo didn't know what to do with her statement, so he gestured to Kurt. "Empty her pockets," he said, coming over to stand beside them.
Cautiously, Kurt patted her down as Arlo supervised, but there was nothing to find.
"She didn't even bring a gun," Kurt said with a mocking smile.
"I don't need a gun. I'm giving you one last chance,” she said to the men who were foolishly standing far too close to her. “Release Max now and no one will be harmed."
The men laughed.
Violet wasn't amused.
And she was done playing. She struck fast. Kicking Arlo on the back of his leg, sending him to his knees.
She wrapped her left arm around the arm that held his gun and jerked it upward.
She heard his elbow pop. Arlo screamed. With one ferocious jab, she punched him in the throat.
He gurgled and crumpled forward onto his face.
Violet took his gun, spun on Kurt and shot him in the middle of his chest. He looked shocked as he fell, his gun still hanging over his shoulder.
Violet tucked the sidearm into the back of her pants before she removed Kurt’s automatic weapon and slung it over her shoulder.
Moving back to Arlo, she grabbed the knife strapped to his ankle.
As an afterthought, she helped herself to their phones and radios too.
The phones would be locked, but she could give them to Evan later and he might be able to get something from them.
The radios, on the other hand, could be useful.
She hurried to Max and cut through the zip-ties securing him to the chair.
"You took them out in four moves," he said in stunned awe. "Four moves! They didn't even have a chance. I can't believe you took them out in just four moves."
"You're babbling," she told him as she freed the ties at his ankles. "We need to get out of here before someone comes to investigate the gunshot."
She helped him to his feet, wedging her shoulder under his arm to support him. His wide eyes were still on the fallen men.
"Four moves! You're like a ninja assassin. Are they dead?" He angled his head to stare at them as Violet propelled him across the room to the patio doors.
"Yes," she snapped. "Focus. We need to get out of here."
"Did you have to kill them? Couldn't you have tied them up."
"Max," Violet said very seriously. "Listen to me. It's really important you understand what happened here."
His dazed gaze landed on her. "What?"
"Those men were going to kill us and they wouldn't have hesitated. If I'd left them alive, they would have been nothing more than weapons Damien used against us. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"That you didn't have a choice?"
"No. I had a choice. And I chose to eliminate the threat permanently."
"But Damien will just send other men after us."
"And I will deal with that threat the same way. This is life or death, Max, and I'd rather we weren't the ones who died."
"I understand," he said. "I guess I'm not used to this kind of thing."
"Which is why you shouldn't have run off on your own."
"Yeah, I get that now. But to be fair, I didn't realize just how freaking terrifying and skilled you are. If I'd known you could take down an army single-handed, I wouldn't have worried so much about you getting hurt."
"Just stop talking," Violet said with disgust as she lugged him toward the door.
"Wait." He dug in his heels. "My ring."
"What now?"
"My wedding ring. It fell off my finger when they tied me up."
With a frustrated growl, Violet scanned the floor, and found the ring under the chair he'd been tied to. She steadied Max before picking it up. She secured it in one of her many pockets and returned to propping up her husband.
"I can't believe you wore an ill-fitting wedding ring to spy on Damien."
"You don't take off your ring, Vi," the idiot said. "Everybody knows that. It’s a commitment.”
“Whatever,” she muttered moving him forward.
“What are you doing?” Max refused to help her. “We can't leave yet. We need to get photos of Damien's partner."
"Max," Violet gritted out, losing what little patience she had left. "The meeting was moved, remember? We can't get photos because they’re on a bloody boat. Now, can we leave before someone else comes to kill us?"
"No," he said, his dark puppy dog eyes pleading with her.
"You don't understand. The meeting isn’t on the boat. They changed it again and it’s happening right now.
Here. In the sitting room. I need to get photos.
I need to know who his partner is." He lowered his head and whispered, "Please, Vi, we can't let him get away with all of this. Please, help me put him in jail."
She ground her teeth. "You are going to get us killed," she hissed at him.
"Trust me," he tried to smile and winced. "That isn't my intention. But Vi, I can't walk away. You understand, don't you?"
Unfortunately, she did. "I'm adding this to the list of your offenses."
"Understood."
"There will be a penalty to pay."
"Not a problem." The fool smiled at her. And winced again. He was a danger to himself.
"I can't take you with me," she said. "You'll only slow me down. I need to get you to safety first."
Oh, he didn't like that one bit, but thankfully he kept his mouth shut about it.
It was so unlike him.