Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
The club owner knew who he was.
The boat slowly inched toward the dock. The crew members threw off the lines, securing the vessel as it bobbed in the rough water. Raindrops fell, pelting down on Ronan as he waited for the all clear to be given to the passengers.
Harris Croft twisted his hands in front of his body. He’d already lined up to get off the vessel. He kept casting nervous glances Ronan’s way.
Whenever he caught one of those glances, Ronan just stared back. He’d ditched his sunglasses. Not really a point in wearing them in the rain. So he laser-locked his stare on the other man.
“All clear!”
The passengers began to disembark. Harris nearly busted his ass as he jumped on the slippery dock and hurried away. Ronan followed. Much slower, but he didn’t let his prey out of his sight. He tracked Harris to the nearby parking lot as the guy headed straight for a G-Wagon. Harris fumbled with his keys.
Ronan closed in behind him. “Do we have a problem?”
Harris jumped. He spun around. “N-no!” Wide eyes. Shaking voice.
In other words, definite problem.
Ronan inclined his head. “You seem very nervous, Harris.” Understatement.
“I just want to get back to my wife,” Harris assured him. “Storm came in too fast. I-I might have to fly to her.”
Lightning flashed overhead. “You really want to be in a little seaplane, in this kind of weather?”
“I just want to get back to my w-wife.” A pause. “I’m sure you know how that feels.”
The jerk knows who I am. Or maybe, what Ronan was. “You liked my tat. I noticed you staring at it.”
Harris bumped into the side of the G-Wagon. “I don’t know that ‘like’ is the right word…”
Fair enough. He’d seemed terrified of the tat. “You’ve seen one of these tats before, haven’t you, Harris?” A very distinctive snake design.
“I just want to get back to my wife.” Adamant. And not exactly a yes or a no.
Voices rose around them. Other passengers. Random visitors to Key West. The lot was too busy. Not like Ronan could knock the guy out and shove him into a vehicle with all of those people around. And they both knew that truth. Harris was safe, for the moment.
He smiled and backed away from Harris. “I’ll be seeing you again,” he assured Harris.
“Please don’t,” Harris whispered. “Please don’t see me again.” He yanked open his door. Jumped inside. A few moments later, the G-Wagon fishtailed out of the lot. Ronan watched the vehicle go.
Then he felt a tap on his shoulder. He didn’t turn around. Why bother? This time, the tricky bastard had not snuck up on him. Ronan had been fully aware of his approach.
“You’re scaring the locals,” Kane Harte informed him.
“I certainly hope so.”
“Want to tell me why?”
Sure. “Because that man is going to sell me out and deliver me for an up close and personal kill to Marcus Aeros.” He watched the taillights as they bobbed and weaved in the distance.
“You don’t say.” Kane didn’t seem particularly alarmed. “In that case, maybe we should follow him?”
A nod. “Maybe we should.”
“I’ve got extra weapons in my car.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” You could never have too many in situations like this one. “Statements like that are why you could be my very best friend in the whole world.”
“I’m not going to tell Gray you said that.”
“Don’t. It would just hurt his feelings.”
“You are not seriously staying with me the entire time.” Luna sat in the oversized, rather lush chair in the bungalow’s small den. She took turns glaring first at Tyler. Then at Esme.
Esme waved happily back at her.
“We are seriously staying with you,” Tyler affirmed. There was no happy wave from him. Just a glower. “Because the minute we leave you alone, you’ll run.”
“Where will I run to?” She tried to sound reasonable. “The boat is gone.”
He raised one brow. “So, here’s the deal. You think you’re gonna cut out and save him, don’t you?”
“I think…” There’s a seaplane on this island. Maybe I can bribe the pilot to fly it out. She’d seen the seaplane when she’d been out snorkeling. “I think I don’t want Ronan risking his life for me.”
Esme’s warm laughter filled the air. “Oh, mon amie , risk is his job. It’s what he does. He would risk himself for a stranger.” She wagged her index finger at Luna, as if Luna had just made the most hilarious joke ever. Spoiler, she had not. “Of course, he would risk himself for you.”
Her hands grabbed for the arms of the chair and dug in a bit too hard. “I don’t want that. I don’t want him getting hurt because of me.”
“Ronan has training. Years and years of covert, dangerous training that has honed him into the hunter he is today.” There was no warm laughter from Tyler. There was pretty much no warmth from him at all. Except when he looked at Esme. However, he wasn’t looking at Esme right then. His eyes were on Luna. “You have zero training, drama teacher.”
“You don’t have to be mean, Tyler.” A rare chide from Esme.
“I’m not being mean. I’m being honest. She has zero training. She runs out, she tries to trade herself for him or do some other stupid shit?—”
Luna flinched.
“Then she dies,” he said, a blunt and brutal summary. “Did you hear me, Luna?”
Yes, her hearing was quite good.
“You will die if you do that crap. Not a pretend death. A real one. And it’s very possible that your attempt to save my friend will result in him losing his life. I don’t want Ronan dying. Yes, he can be a pain in the ass to me, but I’m quite fond of him. So I will do nothing to jeopardize him. Kane will be his backup. They’ll handle the situation, and when we have the all clear, you will get your new life.” A roll of one shoulder as he began to prowl around the bungalow. “Or maybe you’ll even be able to get your old one back. Who knows?”
Her old life didn’t include Ronan. Then again, neither did her new one. “I don’t want to put him in more danger.” That was the last thing she wanted.
“Good. Then we’ll all sit our asses down and we’ll—” A knock interrupted Tyler.
She didn’t point out that her ass was already sitting down. Luna thought that was obvious.
At the knock, battle-ready tension rolled through Tyler. He grabbed a gun from the nearby table—he’d placed it there earlier—and padded for the door. “Are we expecting guests?” A lethal intensity underscored his words.
Esme cleared her throat. “ Oui. ”
He fired a glance her way.
“We’re going to be here for a while.” She shrugged. Appeared vaguely guilty. “I ordered some wine. Non-alcoholic cider. Cheese. No reason things have to be unpleasant.” She tapped her index finger against her lower lip. “Chocolate will be in the delivery, as well.”
“Esme…”
“It’s painful enough for her.” Her gaze darted to Luna. “Let’s make the best of things, shall we?”
Grumbling, he went to the door. Tyler checked before he opened it, and sure enough, an attendant delivered wine and apple cider, three glasses, cheese, and an assortment of decadent chocolates. In moments, the treats were organized and the server was gone.
Luna made no move to approach the delivery.
“Do you trust Ronan?”
Luna glanced up as Esme closed in on her. The other woman could sure move soundlessly when she wanted. Luna admired that skill.
“With your life, I mean? Do you trust Ronan with your life? Not necessarily your heart because I suspect he’s broken that, hasn’t he?”
A lump rose in her throat. Luna choked it down. “I trust him.”
“Then know that he will be safe. We will stay here with you. And before you know it, Ronan will return to you.”
Luna shook her head. “He’s not coming back to me.” Tyler is right. I can’t just run out wildly. I can’t save Ronan. I wouldn’t know what to do. Where to go. I’d put a bigger target on my head, or God forbid, on his. Panic and pain had been driving her. “I don’t want to ever hurt him.”
Esme reached for her hand. “He will come back.”
“He never said he loved me.” Maybe if they’d had more time together…
“Why would he have to say the words? Saying them doesn’t make the emotion more real. Perhaps you should look at what he did instead.”
Luna blinked. Tugged her hand from Esme’s. “He left me.” That was what he’d done.
“That was a bad choice of words on my part.” Esme grimaced. “Shall we have something to drink?”
No, the last thing she wanted to do was drink. What she wanted was to speak with Ronan. To tell him that his life was important. To warn him not to risk himself for her.
But he was gone.
And she was trapped.
“I-I have information that you want.” Harris Croft gripped his phone a little too tightly as he stood behind the desk in his Key West office. The club was closed down. It didn’t usually open until 8 p.m., and it was still early afternoon. No staff members buzzed about the place. No waitresses. No security. His breath rushed out. “I know you wanted him dead, but I’m not a killer. Consider me an…intermediary.”
He heard laughter on the line. It was the kind of laughter that could chill a man’s soul. He’d had a few interactions with Marcus Aeros over the years. Each interaction had left him more and more certain that he did not want to ever get on the guy’s bad side.
According to the gossip, Marcus Aeros had a very, very bad side.
You wanted men like him to owe you favors. You didn’t want them to have you locked and loaded as a future target. Marcus’s targets had an unfortunate tendency to wind up dead.
“I know you put out a hit on Ronan Walker.” Did his voice tremble? Harris hoped to hell not. “You gave a description of the man. Sent his photo.” Maybe Harris had some bad connections in this world. So what? If you were gonna be a club owner in the Keys and Miami, you didn’t just mix with the good people out there. Business had to be handled.
That was what he was doing right then. Handling business.
Marcus hadn’t spoken since answering the call. Harris had identified himself, then had quickly mentioned their previous interactions so the other man wouldn’t hang up on him right away. Once upon a time, Marcus had wanted to invest in one of Harris’s clubs.
But at the last minute, Marcus had gone with a different hotspot. One in Vegas, not Miami. And Harris had been thrilled to avoid that particular business tie.
Yet, here we are…
“Marcus?” Harris’s breath rushed out. “Are you still there?”
“I’m waiting to hear more.” The words were almost bored.
So Harris talked even faster. “I-I saw him. The man you’re after.”
“I don’t know why you think I’m after anyone.”
His mind spun. “I have connections. I know what’s going down. You’re the one who put the target on Ronan Walker.”
No confirmation. No denial.
“I’m calling you because I want payment.”
“Do you?” Again, bored.
“I know where he is, okay? Exactly where is he. I-I saw his tat, and I know it’s him. He fits the description perfectly.” His gaze stared straight ahead as he continued. “Minus the beard. He’s ditched that. He and his wife were at?—”
Harris stopped.
Because a gun had just pressed to his forehead.
His breath fizzled in his chest as Harris gazed at the man who held the gun. Ronan Walker.
“Wife?” Marcus asked slowly.
“Uh…”
“Where did you see him?” Marcus wanted to know. “Where did you see her? ” Suddenly, he didn’t sound bored at all.
“I saw him right here, in Key West.” Right in front of my damn face. The gun muzzle pressed harder into his forehead. Shit. This was not going to end well. It could not.
“You’re not going to kill him?” Curious.
Oh, I think I might be the one in danger of dying. “Not my style. Like I said, consider me an intermediary.” An intermediary who wanted to extricate his ass from the situation as soon as humanly possible.
“Don’t like to get your hands dirty, is that it?”
He’d prefer not to get them bloody, thanks. “I’m telling you where he is. All I want is a finder’s fee.” And to keep living. That would be great. “You take care of the rest. Hell, if you name the location, I can serve him up to you on a platter. I’ve got people who can deliver him to you. I’m just not pulling the trigger.” Harris really, really hoped the man in front of him would not pull the trigger, too.
Soft laughter spilled from Marcus. “So many people calling me lately...”
What did that mean? Had someone else already claimed the hit?
“I’ll remember what you did,” Marcus assured Harris. “You’ll certainly be paid back.”
Was that good? Or bad? It felt bad. So bad.
“Shut your club down for the night. Have him waiting for me there.”
“I don’t want to be around when you, ah, kill him?—”
“Then don’t be there. Lock him down. Secure him. I’ll personally handle Ronan while you go somewhere with that pretty wife of yours.”
His jaw clenched. He hated it whenever Marcus mentioned Monique.
The call ended. He slowly lowered the phone and put it on his desk. Super slowly so he didn’t set off the menacing figure in front of him. “Happy?” Harris croaked. His throat had gone bone dry. “I did what you wanted. He will personally handle you.”
“Happy doesn’t quite cover it,” Ronan Walker growled. “You weren’t supposed to mention my fucking wife. ”
“Well, it’s not like I had a freaking script to read!” Sweat trickled down his back. The sweat trickled harder when the second guy stepped out of the shadows because Ronan hadn’t come alone when he’d broken into Harris’s office. He’d brought his hulking, scarily intense buddy with him.
They’d ordered him to make the call. Told him all that BS to say about knowing there was a hit on Ronan. He hadn’t actually known jack. He didn’t play around in the world of killers.
Well, okay, he had known one thing. He knew the tat that Ronan sported meant serious trouble. As soon as he’d seen it, he’d wanted to haul ass away from the bruiser.
His instincts had been right, of course. Trouble stared back at him. “Will you please remove the gun from my head?” He’d had the call on speaker the whole time. Both of the men before him had heard everything. “I did what you wanted.”
“You mentioned my wife. ”
“You didn’t say she was on his hit list! So what if I mentioned her?”
But Ronan and his buddy shared a long look.
Harris’s knees shook. “I don’t want to die. Look, just let me leave, please?” He wasn’t above begging. “I have a wife, too. I want to get back to her. I need to get back to her.” His heart thudded hard in his chest. “You stay here. He’ll come for you tonight. I will be long gone.”
“How do I know that if I let you leave, you won’t immediately call Marcus back and sell me out?” Ronan asked.
“Fair question.” Harris wet his lips. “I don’t suppose you’d take me at my word?”
Ronan shook his head. But he did lower his gun. Thankfully.
Harris pulled in some seriously deep breaths.
Only to see Ronan’s buddy haul out a pair of handcuffs. Oh, no.
“Afraid you’re gonna be locked up until this is all over,” the guy told him in a voice that a bear probably would use. If fucking bears could talk. “For your own safety. And ours.”
A cuff snapped against Harris’s wrist. A chill skated down his sweaty back even as he said, “I don’t think this shit is legal.”
“Do we look like cops to you?” Ronan asked.
No. “You look like trouble.”
“It was the tat, huh? You’ve seen one of those before. You knew what the tat represented.”
The other cuff snapped on his wrist. “Yeah, I’ve seen one before. It’s the whole reason I didn’t hire the guy, despite his talent. Knew he’d probably slit my throat if he got pissed at me for something.” Harris hadn’t always been living the high life. He’d done time in some hellholes, and he knew all about those distinctive, freaking snake tats.
Ronan had gone statue still. “What guy?”
Harris squinted at him. Seriously? “You talked to him on the island. When I saw your tat—hell, I figured you two were there together for a reason. I want my Monique out of that place, understand? If you’re not letting me go back to her tonight, then you get her secured.” His shoulders straightened. “I did my part. Now you do something for me. Get my wife off the island. Protect her.” She was the best thing in his life.
“ What. Guy?”
It dawned on Harris that Ronan had no idea about the danger that waited on the island. So he started talking, fast.