FEARLESS (6 page)

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Authors: Helen Kay Dimon

Tags: #ROMANCE - - SUSPENSE

BOOK: FEARLESS
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“Depends on the answer to my question.”

“We need to be smart about this.” The way she grabbed on to his shirt contrasted with her comments.

“Oh, definitely.” Slowly, and giving her plenty of time to pull away, he lowered his head to kiss her.

She put a finger over his lips. “I am not sleeping with you.”

“No. Of course not.”

She lowered her hand to his chest. “That was too easy.”

Oh, they would, and at some point they’d have to deal with the issues that drove them apart. It was clear to him this was more than the easy-to-ignore straggly ends of a broken relationship. These were threads that needed to be tied together again. He was never so sure as when he stared into those stunning eyes and saw nothing but welcome there.

Still... “The timing is wrong tonight,” he said, only half meaning it.

“Gee, you think?”

But they could still kiss. He leaned in. Just before his eyes closed, a movement in the water grabbed his attention. At first he thought it was a buoy or dinghy that had broken loose.

Her smile faded as her head whipped around to follow his gaze. “What do you see?”

He was impressed she whispered despite the panicked tone to her voice. “Something.”

Bending forward, he opened the storage cabinet under the bench. He felt around, moving over ropes and something that felt like a pulley. Then he felt it. Wrapping his fingers around the smooth plastic, he brought out a flashlight.

“Stay here.” He motioned to her as he stood up and went to the railing.

The focused beam moved over the dark water. The rhythmic thunking didn’t stop and he aimed for the sound. Following a line, the light landed on a small boat. The pieces fell together. It was the kind of boat you’d never take to the ocean but might spend hours loading down with unnecessary supplies.

She appeared at his side. “What is it?”

“Ken’s boat.” The light traveled over the craft but no one moved. The bigger concern was how close it sat to Pax’s boat.

“I thought that Ken person never actually took his boat out.”

Smart woman.
“Exactly.”

“What do—”

He put a hand over her mouth when he heard a thump at the front of the boat. “We’ve got company, and it’s not Pax this time.”

Chapter Seven

Not again.

Lara tried to stop her insides from shaking hard enough to rattle her back teeth. She grabbed on to Davis’s hand with a death grip that would have broken the bones of a weaker man. Intuitively she knew she had to let go because he’d need two arms to fight off whatever new threat headed their way, but her brain refused to telegraph the message to her fingers.

After a reassuring squeeze, he did it for her. He turned his flashlight off with a snap and tucked the slim end into his back pocket. Next, he motioned for her to duck down. The textured floor was rough against her palms and bruised knee, but she didn’t say a word. Couldn’t.

Tucked against the seats behind the ship’s wheel, she made her body as small as possible. Davis didn’t have that luxury. With those shoulders, his body could only get so little.

Footsteps echoed against the bow lightly, but in the dead quiet of the night the still air carried the sound. Water lapped against the side of the boat, and all the associated clangs and dings continued, but the squeak of a step still stood out now that she was listening for it.

That put the attacker maybe ten feet away and slightly above them. The marina safety lighting hit the back of the boat and also highlighted their whereabouts. This guy had the clear advantage. And there could be more than one of him.

Davis pushed his palm against the small door under the seat in front of them and made a face when it clicked out loud. With quick and efficient movements, he drew something out. It didn’t flash under the light, but she knew what it was. A gun, probably one of many hidden on the boat.

Back when they’d been together Davis had been adamant she know about weapons. Cleaning, firing, storing. He’d gone over the routines several times. He’d insisted the lessons were about more than simple self-protection. If he kept guns in the house, she needed to understand as much as possible about them or risk being a victim.

He touched a light hand to her lower back. “Get off the boat.” The husky whisper blended into the sounds of the marina.

Her stomach ached as if she’d been kicked repeatedly. “You mean both of us.”

“Eventually.” He put a finger against his lips and raised his head enough to see something that had him ducking again.

She loved the big protective alpha-male thing. But she hated the idea of leaving him behind. Knowing he was in danger would freeze her to the dock. The rib injuries and long day of fighting might prove too much for him to overcome.

Thinking to call in reinforcements, she slipped her hand into her pocket to grab her cell, until she remembered she’d left it on the table below deck. The only thing she had with her was a springy pink hair tie. Nothing helpful about that.

Davis signaled for her to slip over the side. “Stay low. I’ll stand to draw fire.”

Her breathing actually shuddered. “Terrible plan.”

“Go.”

Her mind raced to find another solution. He was the expert, but she couldn’t let him make this sacrifice or take on this danger. Her gaze bounced around the deck until she felt his hand against her elbow. He gave her a sharp shake of his head and pointed to his right.

Nothing subtle about his orders this time. His stern frown suggested he was ready to throw her over the side.

Because his attention should be on the bad guy, she gave in. She glanced over and tried to see the dock from her position. It fell out of her line of vision. She knew a six-foot drop should put her on a stable walkway, and she could run from there. But without the ladder or anything to break her fall, it was going to hurt. Not the best solution but maybe her only one.

Crouching on the balls of her feet, she didn’t have much traction. She shifted to get her balance as a thud vibrated next to her ear. She looked up just as the attacker reached down and grabbed her. Her scream cut off when he wrapped his arms around her chest, stealing her air.

In the time it took for his face to register in her brain, he’d lifted her off her feet and had her pressed against him as a shield. Heat radiated off of him and a subtle vibration moved through him. She chalked it up to some sort of sick evil energy.

He was dressed all in black with his face partially covered by a hood, but she still recognized him. He’d made the trip from Capitol Hill to finish the job.

He pressed a knife against her throat as Davis got to his feet. The gun was missing but she knew he had it nearby. “It’s him.”

“Back for a second try? You’ll fail this time, too.” Davis’s voice never wavered. He didn’t look at her either.

The attacker rubbed his cheek against hers. “I’ve already won.”

She jerked when the attacker’s hot breath blew across her ear. She smelled musk and sweat. The mixture filled her senses and she had to fight to keep from gagging. The slight rock of the boat and salty fish smell of the water backed up on her and her stomach heaved.

The guy tightened his hold around her chest until she was afraid to move. In panic she clawed at the arm around her but the hold didn’t ease.

“You and your girlfriend are going to get in the cabin,” he said.

It didn’t take an expert to know going inside meant death. Her heart raced so fast that she was surprised he didn’t feel it. She vowed to go out kicking.

Davis glanced at the two steps and doorway to the area below deck. “So we can have an accident of some sort? No, thanks.”

“I can cut her now and let you watch.”

The blade nicked her skin. The shock of pain was a promise of things to come. “Davis.”

The attacker’s whole body shook with a harsh laugh. “Listen to the terror in her voice, Davis. Use your head.”

For the first time since their unwelcome guest had arrived, Davis glanced at her. Those intense eyes blazed, and for the briefest of seconds his gaze slid to the floor then came back up again. It was a clue. Something about hitting the floor. Desperation ate away in her stomach as she tried to figure out exactly what he wanted her to do and when.

“Hands up.” The attacker barked the words more than said them.

After a flash of hesitation, Davis raised one hand and took a step. He came even with the attacker’s side. Davis’s stare bored through her as he moved.

She couldn’t come up with a scenario in which Davis going into the galley ended with them surviving. And if she knew that endgame, he definitely knew. His mind never stopped analyzing and assessing. That meant he had a plan and even now was unrolling it.

He touched the stair railing. Instead of going below, he flipped around and yelled, “Down!”

The sudden change of direction had the attacker flinching. Without thinking, she angled her head to the side and dropped before she could worry about the knife. Her legs collapsed under her, leaving her sitting in a heap at the attacker’s feet. When Davis launched his body and slammed into the other guy, she was trapped between their legs. Right in the line of fire.

Her breath thundered in her ears as she looked for a space to slip through. She crawled a few inches but couldn’t break free. With one hand, Davis lifted and pushed her out of the way. She ducked as he jumped over her to get to the attacker.

Her last thought was to run but her body went airborne. Her back smashed against the doorway to the front cabin before she landed hard on her butt. Bones rattled and a surge of dizziness had her head swimming and her vision blurring.

When her eyes focused again the urge to vomit hit her hard. She choked down the taste as she dragged her body, half falling and half stumbling, back to her feet as she looked to the other side of the deck.

The men rolled across the deck in an echoing series of grunts. Arms and legs flailed. A knife flashed in the light. Air refused to fill her lungs as she watched the attacker wrestle Davis to the deck. They landed with a thud as the fall knocked Davis’s gun from his hand. The men scrambled, crawling over each other, using clothes and anything else they could grab for leverage.

Davis’s hand wrapped around the weapon but the attacker pushed it away. Before Davis could make another attempt, the attacker slammed a knee into his back. Davis’s body bent back. Tucking again, he rolled over and smacked the heel of his hand into the guy’s face.

The attacker wailed as blood spurted from his nose. Instead of falling off Davis, the guy slammed his weight harder against Davis’s stomach, doubling him over as he gasped.

With a final blood-freezing scream of rage the attacker brought the knife down in a swooping arc. Davis shifted his head to the side at the last second and the blade stabbed into the floor.

Fearing Davis couldn’t win this one, not when he was already hurt, she struggled to her feet and looked across the bow for something, anything, to aim at this guy. She saw cans stacked up at the far end and blinked. Her mind didn’t grasp the importance or even understand what she saw until she inhaled and the harsh scent of gasoline ran through her.

He was going to blow them up.

She spun around in time to see Davis whip out the flashlight and deliver a bone-crunching hit to the other guy’s jaw. The attacker’s head actually snapped back. For a second his eyes slipped shut and Davis used the opening to shove the guy off. Up on his knees, Davis stretched out for the gun.

“Davis!” Her scream bounced off the fiberglass and had him turning to face her. “Gasoline.”

She barely got the word out over the terror shaking her body and kicking life into her muscles. She wasn’t even sure he’d heard or understood until his eyes went wide. His gaze traveled over the boat as all emotion vanished from his face.

Swiping the gun, she stood up, stopping only to kick the attacker in the shoulder when he struggled up for another round. Running, his arms pumping and cheeks hollow, Davis smashed into her. With a hand on her arm, he lifted and propelled her to his right. Her thigh slammed into the side of a seat as they went but she kept going. She didn’t have a choice. Davis had her locked to his side.

The attacker got to his feet but Davis didn’t stop moving. With a hand on her butt, he hoisted her up on the side railing. His body wrapped around hers like a blanket as he dropped them over the side. The air rushed around them. She closed her eyes and waited for the hard crack of the dock against her skull a few feet below. When they hit, she bounced against his chest and heard him groan.

Her eyes popped open in time to see him aim his gun at the side of the boat, as if waiting to see a face peek over. They were lower and couldn’t see inside, but he was ready.

She heard a splash and Davis swore. He shifted and jumped to a crouch. A rumbling whoosh stopped him from going farther. One minute she sat there, trying to get her bearings, and the next a wall of heat punched her face. The bang rang out right before Davis slipped his arms around her and rolled them to the far side of the dock.

The floor beneath them fell away and they flew through the air again. She gasped as they hit the water. The smell of fish smacked her in the face as she struggled to hold her breath. Her eyes opened as a ball of red and orange exploded above the water. Even under she could hear the booms and crackle.

Something slapped the water near her head. Davis kicked and they swam, bubbles giving away their path, as chunks of wood and things she couldn’t recognize through the haze of water crashed around them.

Just as her air ran out and she thought her lungs would explode if they went one more foot, they broke the surface. She hung on to his shoulders and he grabbed on to the side of the small hill leading to the road and the firm land beyond.

Flames shot up from the center of what used to be Pax’s boat. “We would have been in there.”

The explosion numbed every part of her. Her mind barely functioned, yet somehow her hands held on to Davis.

“That was the idea.” Even through all the noise his voice sounded harsh and raw.

The water bobbed around them and sirens squealed in the distance. Men raced to the scene, screaming for help while the few people on the boats in the slips ran up the docks to safety. The fire consumed Pax’s boat and the impressive sailboat next to it. Lara didn’t see any sign of the attacker, but she had a trickle of a memory that made her think he got away.

She remembered Davis’s promises about being safe and wondered if she’d ever feel okay again. “How did he find us?”

“I’ll find out.” His set jaw made his voice sound like a hard slap. “But your attacker miscalculated about one thing.”

“You mean how he set the fire too soon?” Water splashed up and into her mouth, and she spit it back out. She tried hard not to think about what swam around in there with them or the garbage she had seen floating on the top earlier.

“I mean that he’s made a new enemy. Pax is not going to take losing his boat well.”

For some reason that made Lara feel better.

* * *

C
LIVE
PUT
HIS
palms against the floating dock on the row of slips at the far side of the marina and lifted his body out of the water. He rolled to his back and stared up into the orange-hazed sky. Shifting his jaw, he checked for any breaks. That idiot had swiped him with a flashlight. Oh, he’d pay for that.

Fire trucks blared into the parking lot. Clive lifted his head and watched their flashing lights illuminate the area. He lay far enough away, covered by his dark clothes and unexpected presence. For the next hour or so all attention would be on getting that fire out and roping off the area. Sneaking away would not be a problem. Recovering from this before his boss got word might be harder.

Firemen and policemen filed out of vehicles and surrounded the docks across from him. It was quite a scene. But the wrong kind of scene.

This was supposed to be a quiet ending. He hadn’t counted on a late-night dunk in slimy water. Knock them out, stick them in the cabin and then light the fire. When the woman had struggled and the boyfriend stepped in, everything got screwed up. Too much time had passed, and the fuel exploded instead of sparking to a low burn.

His boss wasn’t going to like this. He was a powerful man who preferred easy answers. This was too loud and called too much attention.

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