Chapter 34 #2
“Of course. What do you take me for?” Darien shouts back. And I blink, because it sounds like Asher believes him.
Is he really going to let Darien take me to the mainland? Of course he is. He wants his family safe. He’s going to be a father, Francie comes first.
And I’m not a Fitzgerald. I’m not part of that family. For some reason that makes my throat feel tight.
“Okay,” Asher agrees. “We’re all leaving now. Give us a couple of minutes, and we’ll be gone.”
A single tear rolls down my cheek. Oh God, they’re really doing this. They’re leaving. They’re letting him take me.
It’s good, I tell myself. It’s the right thing to do. Get the threat off the island. I’d do the same. Probably.
The engines outside start to fade, one by one, until the street settles into a strange, hollow quiet.
Darien stiffens behind me, listening hard.
I focus on staying upright, on not thinking about what happens when we get to the mainland.
As long as that gun is against my head, or my body, I’m not doing anything stupid.
We’ll just get on the boat, then… leave.
Two more minutes pass before Darien checks his watch. “Pull open the blinds,” he says, nudging me toward the door. I do, and we both peer out past the closed sign to the empty street beyond.
No SUVs, no black clothed operatives. No Zach.
Just silence. And I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone.
“Open the door,” Darien mutters. “Slowly. And if I see so much as you thinking, I swear—”
“I get it,” I tell him, curling my fingers around the handle.
The lock clicks loud in the quiet. I ease the door open with the weight of his body pressed against mine, his breath hot at my neck, the gun digging into my side. The salty breeze hits my face, sharp and clean, and for a second I close my eyes.
Then he pushes me forward, the gun poking me in the back this time.
“Walk ahead now. Nice and easy, no sudden movements.”
I don’t reply that I can’t do anything else in this stupid dress.
The click of his shoes behind me is steady, careful, calculated. Each step we take down the wooden boardwalk echoes like a countdown.
Please let Asher and Zach have a plan. Because I’m scared. Really scared now. I don’t want to be alone with Darien on a boat. And I definitely don’t want to be alone with him when we reach land.
I can hear Darien’s heavy breathing as we move together down the road toward the ferry dock. And just as Asher promised, there’s a boat there. Tied up to the side, the engine running.
Darien lets out a little chuckle, like he can’t believe his luck.
But it doesn’t stop him from tightening his grip on me, his fingers digging into my waist as we step off the boardwalk onto the dock. The old planks creak beneath our feet, and the water laps lazily against the hull of the boat.
“Climb in,” he mutters.
God, this is really happening. They’re letting me go. I don’t know why that makes me want to sob, but it does.
Pulling up the skirt of my dress, I step onto the edge, one hand bracing against the side of the boat. My toe stubs the step and I let out a cry as I stagger. He shoves me forward and I land on the deck with a thud, my palms scraping against the wood.
“Get up,” he tells me. “And drive the boat.”
I blink. “I don’t know how to drive a boat. Can’t you do it?”
He lets out a groan. “I don’t fucking know how to.” With his free hand he pulls out his phone and throws it to me. “Google it.”
A sob pulls at my throat. I’m on the verge of hysterics. “Just let me go.”
“Drive the boat, Sadie,” he growls. “Because if you don’t…” He wiggles the gun.
I don’t bother googling it. Instead I head for the steering wheel, and see what looks like a stick shift next to it. I push at it gently, but the gears ratchet. So I shove it and the engine revs as the boat starts to surge.
“Oh shit.” I ease off.
“For fuck’s sake,” Darien shouts. “Be gentle.”
My heart slams against my chest. “You need to undo the rope,” I shout back. “For us to leave.”
“You do it,” he says. “I don’t trust you to leave without me.”
“I can’t untie the rope and drive the boat at the same time.”
He wrinkles his nose at me, then walks over to the rope that attaches the boat to the dock. But instead of jumping out and unwinding it, he unwinds the part of the rope attached to the boat.
Jesus, the man really is an idiot. We won’t be able to dock on the other side.
I push the stick forward slowly, trying to get used to the feel of it. The boat starts to move. Then Darien walks over to me and puts the gun against my head again. “Thank you,” he says. “I think I’ll take it from here.”
“You want me to go?”
“I want you to let go of the fucking wheel,” he tells me.
“But you are letting me go?” I ask again.
He slowly shakes his head. And that’s when I realize, he’s not letting me go. Not here, and not on the mainland.
“You wouldn’t hurt me,” I whisper. Tears start to stain my cheeks. “You’re not a killer.”
But he gives me nothing more than a sad look in reply.
I open my mouth to beg. To tell him I won’t say a word. But my throat is too tight. I’m going to die, in a green ball gown, on a boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
I won’t see Zach. I won’t get to touch him, to hold him. To tell him that I’m sorry Darien hurt him. I’m sorry he got involved in any of this.
Because it will be too late.
“Step away from her.”
Asher’s voice is calm, lethal, and coming from the back of the boat. He rises from the shadows like a ghost in black, gun pointed, eyes locked on Darien.
Relief rushes through me. Oh God, they stayed. They didn’t sacrifice me.
Darien turns abruptly, swinging the gun until it’s pointing toward Asher. Then he swings it back to me. From the corner of my eye I see something move to my left. Asher’s eyes catch mine like he’s trying to tell me something, but I don’t know what it is.
“I’ll shoot her, I fucking swear it,” Darien shouts out, grabbing me.
He puts the barrel against my ribs again, his arm tense enough to tremble. His breath is hot at my ear, sour with panic. He’s unraveling.
“Get off the fucking boat,” Darien orders. “Now.”
Asher doesn’t move. He doesn’t blink. “You pull that trigger and you won’t make it five seconds,” he says, his voice low.
“Darien,” I whisper. “Please. Remember who you are. You don’t hurt people.”
He jerks me closer, moving the gun up to my temple. “Shut up.”
Asher’s eyes flick behind Darien for a fraction of a second. And that’s when I feel it. A warm finger tapping my bare ankle.
Somehow, I know it’s Zach, hiding under the console. I keep my face as straight as possible, not wanting Darien to notice.
He’s too erratic, panicking like crazy. He moves the gun from me and points it at Asher again.
“Fuck off right now,” he snarls at him. “Now. Or I’ll—”
He never finishes.
Because the next second Zach surges up next to me and lunges for Darien, reaching for his gun. The boat lurches sideways at the sudden move, and I stumble to the right, just as Zach closes his hand around Darien’s wrist.
And then a gun fires, the sound cracking through the night, followed by another shot. And I think my heart shatters into a thousand tiny pieces. And for the second time tonight, the man I love lets out a deep, agonizing cry and once again I hear the thud of his body hitting wood.
For a moment I can’t breathe. The world tilts, thrown off its axis. My hands slap flat against the deck as the boat rocks beneath us, the engine whining as it shifts in the water. My vision blurs, but not from fear. From pure horror.
“Zach!” I scream. “Oh my God, please be okay.”
Darien is writhing on the floor, still fighting, still snarling, the gun kicked out of his reach by Asher who has vaulted forward.
But I can’t look at any of that.
I crawl toward the place where Zach fell, the boards cold against my palms. The water’s slapping the hull, the men are grunting, the radio is crackling. But all I can see is Zach’s body lying on his side.
“Zach,” I shout again, even louder this time.
His eyes are half open, unfocused. Blood streaks down his temple and along his jaw. His lips curve when he sees me, faint but real.
“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs. And then his eyes close, and I start to wail.