Authors: Kira Sinclair
“Coast Guard doesn’t have jurisdiction out here.”
“Then let’s call whoever does.”
Knox was shaking his head before she’d even finished the sentence. “By the time they get here this shipment will be long gone.”
“But they’ll know where to look next time.”
He ignored her statement. “Do you see that?” He pointed to a tiny object affixed to the side of the box toward the top. “Homing beacon.”
Beautiful. So whoever was coming to pick up the box had a device to lead them straight there. “So we’re just going to what, wait for them to show up? Knox there are two of us and we’re unarmed.”
“I know,” he said, his voice tight.
Jumping in front of the wheel, Knox cranked the engine. He scanned the horizon, even as he began to maneuver away.
“Hang on. I’m getting us out of here.”
Avery’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the edge of the seat. Her heart pounded so fast she could feel the whoosh of blood as it sped through her veins. She wanted the boat to be going just as fast.
But before Knox could steer them away, a loud humming sound rolled across the water. Unlike the plane, it didn’t build quietly but went straight from low to roar.
A black boat streaked across the water, heading straight for them like a bullet.
“Dammit,” Knox breathed out.
Avery felt her eyes widen with fear and disbelief. How had her day gone so completely sideways? They were supposed to be playing with sonar, not dealing with drug runners.
The boat approached quickly. Low and sleek, it cut through the waves at a speed that boggled the mind. It screamed up beside them, throwing spray that coated her skin in seawater and sandwiching their vessel against the box.
The engine cut out suddenly, and a lazy drawl came from the other boat.
“You appear to be lost.”
The man speaking had bronzed skin and gleaming white teeth, along with an American accent, insolent smile and sharp eyes. He stood in front of a group of men who didn’t bother to hide the guns pointed in their direction.
Avery glanced over at Knox. Gone was the guy who’d splashed water on her earlier, slapped a beer into her hand last night and made inappropriate comments about her sleeping attire.
The person glaring at the men in the boat next to them was a soldier. One who’d put his life on the line multiple times and would do so again to protect his friends and family. Maybe even her...
A shiver of awareness and apprehension rocked through Avery’s body.
Knox’s jaw was tight, his eyes alert and watchful. But none of that came through in the languid words that slipped through his lips. “That’s funny, I was going to say the same thing about this box. I’m guessing you’re the owner.”
The leader shrugged his shoulders. “I am.”
Moving carefully, Knox positioned himself so that he was in front of her, making himself a target for the weapons trained their way.
“Well then, I suppose it’s a good thing you showed up to retrieve it. Saves me the effort of hauling it back to my ship.”
The guy on the other boat laughed, throwing his head back as if Knox had just told the most amazing joke. The sound grated against Avery’s already frayed nerves.
This was not going to end well.
And there was nothing she could do about it. She was trained in Muay Thai, something she’d begun when her family lived in a small village in Thailand during one of her father’s archaeological digs. But that skill was useless with them occupying separate boats. Muay Thai required close contact...their guns, not so much.
That didn’t stop the adrenaline from flooding her system. Or the involuntary way her body adjusted, muscle memory taking over and preparing her for a fight she really didn’t want.
Her movement caught the drug runner’s attention. Shifting on his feet, he peered at her around the wall of Knox’s body. The grin he sent her was wolfish.
She’d seen that expression before, on a different face. One she tried not to think about because that night had altered her life...and her sister’s.
But there wasn’t time for those memories right now.
Standing slowly, Avery filled her voice with determination and said, “Take the cargo and let us leave.”
The man’s grin widened. “I think it’s adorable you believe you have any say in what’s going to happen next.”
4
T
HE
MINUTE
K
NOX
had pulled up to that crate and seen the tracking beacon, he’d known they were in trouble. He’d hoped to get away, but feared they wouldn’t have time.
A drop like this...the guys waiting to retrieve it wouldn’t be very far away.
What the hell had he been thinking, chasing after an object falling from the sky with an untrained civilian along for the ride?
But the reality was the
Chimera
site was too close to the drop. He might have avoided a confrontation today only to stumble straight into another one later, with more people caught in the crosshairs and a ton of expensive equipment on the line.
He’d made the best choice he could given the circumstances, but that didn’t ease his conscience when there was a gun pointed straight at Avery’s head. These men were seasoned professionals. Knox recognized the workings of a well-oiled team.
Grim regret pulled at him. When they got out of this, he was going to owe Avery.
On the bright side, she’d surprised him. He’d half expected her to dissolve into hysterics. Instead, she was glaring at the men in the opposite boat. Okay, so he could have used a little less attitude from her—because he wasn’t the only one picking up on her hostility. But he’d take what he could get.
His legs shifting beneath the easy rocking of the boat, Knox really wished he could feel the reassuring metal of his Beretta against his palm. It had been a long time since he’d missed that sensation.
He’d have to make do with the wrench he’d taken from the toolbox under the seat along with the emergency beacon he’d surreptitiously stuffed into his pocket before the other boat had arrived.
“Sweetheart,” the leader said, “why don’t you jump on over here.”
It was a command, not a question. And Knox seriously disliked the predatory expression that accompanied the words.
“Don’t move, Avery,” Knox countered, even as she started to obey.
“What? Really?” She froze and a little spurt of relief shot through him. Not that it lasted long.
The leader smirked, his lips twisting. “That looks like some pretty expensive equipment.”
“It is,” Knox said slowly, grinding the words out.
“Here’s what we’re going to do.” Turning to one of his men, the leader gestured at their boat. Before Knox could move to block him, the guy crossed, planting both feet aboard their boat.
“Miguel is going to escort your pretty friend over here. Then, you’re going to follow.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, Miguel will put a bullet in her brain.”
Miguel smiled, the kind of psychotic grin that told him he not only wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger, but would enjoy it.
Knox had run into enough men like him in his career to recognize a sociopath when he saw one. And these men were all cut from the same cloth. They weren’t just in the business for the money, they enjoyed the rougher side of life that came with drug running.
He ground his teeth. They were outnumbered and outgunned. His best bet for protecting Avery was to do as he was told...for now. None of the men realized he was a SEAL. Had the training to take them out, if they’d just give him a small opening.
It was clear he was being underestimated, but that had always been one of his greatest assets...allowing him to blindside his opponents and leverage the power of surprise.
People genuinely liked him, often accepting his easygoing outlook on life at face value. For some reason, most people automatically trusted him. A quality that had made him an excellent interrogator.
Knox watched, helpless, as Miguel wrapped his hand around Avery’s arm and lifted her across the expanse of water into the opposite boat. She stumbled over the edge. Knox lurched forward, intent on helping, but before he could reach her one of the other men had a gun buried against his shoulder.
“How sweet,” the leader drawled.
At gunpoint, Knox followed, constantly scanning for an advantage he could use, but there was none. They were outnumbered and outgunned.
Miguel pushed him onto the backseat, forcing Avery down beside him. Thank God for small miracles, no one bothered to tie them up. Not that it made much difference, since two of the men still had guns trained on them.
From his position, Knox watched them hook a three-point line onto rings that were already anchored in the wooden box. The third man took the controls in Knox and Avery’s boat.
Knox had to bite his tongue when the man sped off, taking with him some damned expensive equipment. Losing it hurt. But not nearly as much as getting shot or watching Avery bleed would have.
Out of nowhere, Avery’s hand landed on his thigh. She squeezed. He wasn’t sure if the gesture was supposed to be a warning or reassurance. Either way, it worked because he felt his blood pressure slipping back down to something more manageable.
She wasn’t scared. Or was damn good at hiding it if she was.
“Are you okay?” he murmured, low enough that the whine of the boat engine would cover up their conversation.
She nodded. Loathing flashed through her eyes as she glanced at the men holding them hostage. That was good and bad. He appreciated her spark, but only to the extent that she could control it. The last thing he needed was for her to open that smart mouth of hers and land them in even more trouble.
“Keep a grip, Avery. Don’t do anything stupid.”
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. “What’s your definition of stupid?”
Oh, shit
.
* * *
T
HAT
FIRST
SURGE
of adrenaline faded, leaving Avery shaky and angry. The men standing guard didn’t waver, not even as their boat bounced over waves. The dark eyes of those barrels stayed trained on them.
The longer they sat, the more tension she could feel winding through Knox’s body. The rock-solid curve of his thigh pressed her leg. Each time the boat surged over a wave his wide shoulder brushed against hers.
At first, she’d been praying they would make it out of this alive. But after she’d calmed down and realized that if the man in charge had wanted them dead, they’d both be sinking beneath the surface of the Caribbean Sea right now, she’d switched her focus. From that point on, she’d prayed Knox wouldn’t decide to play hero and do something that would get either or both of them shot.
About an hour later, dread dropped into her belly. She watched as a land mass materialized out of the unbroken blue. It didn’t take long to notice they were heading straight for the tiny island instead of passing by.
“Knox,” she whispered.
“I know,” he murmured back.
Suddenly, the reasoning she’d used to convince herself they were going to be okay wasn’t nearly as sound. Was this where they were going to die?
The boat sped up to the island, curving sharply about fifteen feet from the shore. As abruptly as they’d approached, the engine was throttled back. They idled, floating sideways, carried by their wake for several moments.
Turning, the leader flashed them a pointed look. “This is where you two get off.”
Avery looked over at the island. It was quiet and clearly deserted. “You have to be kidding.”
The corners of the drug runner’s lips curled. “I’m not. Nor am I completely cruel. Miguel will follow with a few supplies. Matches, rope, alcohol.”
“You’re all heart,” Knox said.
“He’s been watching too many pirate movies,” Avery muttered.
Another one of those roaring laughs erupted from deep inside the criminal’s chest.
“So glad I could entertain you,” Knox said.
“You’re going to have your hands full with this one, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend.”
The smile disappeared in a flash, making Avery realize just how much of a lie it had been.
“No, but you’re going to be smart and not start anything. I’m leaving you both alive.”
Knox spread his thighs and planted his feet firmly on the bottom of the boat. Avery could feel his muscles bunching, preparing for whatever was coming.
“And why is that?”
The corners of his eyes twitched, indicating that whatever he was about to say would likely be only half the truth. “You said yourself, I’m all heart. But if you push me, I’ll have no compunctions about leaving you on this island with a bullet wound while you wait to be rescued. And you will be, eventually.
“This island might be deserted now, but fishermen come by here on a regular basis. It’ll only be a day or two before you’re discovered. Enough time for us to be long gone.”
Avery could feel the frustration flowing off Knox’s body. It was ratcheting up her own tension to the point that she wanted to scream. And if she’d thought it might help she would have done just that.
But she was afraid it would upset the tentative balance and cause a chain reaction that would end with bullets flying.
So, instead, Avery stood. Knox turned, glaring at her.
“We’ll go quietly.”
Miguel followed, using the business end of his gun to indicate she should throw her leg over the side of the boat and jump into the water. She did as she was told, sucking in a sharp breath as the water rose to just beneath her chin.
Heading for shore, she didn’t even hear a splash as Knox entered the water, but before she realized what was happening, his strong arms were stroking through the waves right beside her.
As she reached the shoreline, Miguel growled out an order in heavily accented English. “On your knees.”
She threw a glance over her shoulder. Miguel used the barrel of the gun in his hand to wave her back around. Avery’s heart lurched inside her chest. Wasn’t this usually how drug dealers killed people? At least, it always was in the movies.
Slowly, she sank, the warm sand coating her wet knees and calves. It was soft and welcoming. Any other time she might have appreciated the pristine stretch of beach. At the moment all she could think about was the injustice that it was potentially going to become her final resting place.
Knox dropped down beside her. Twisting her head, she scanned his face. It was drawn and hard, his mouth grim. He stared straight ahead into the line of trees several yards away up the beach.
Something brushed her fingers where they hung uselessly by her side. Suddenly, they were tangled with his, gripped tight. He squeezed, giving her a moment of comfort before pulling away again.
A bundle smacked the ground off to their left.
“Do not turn around until you hear the boat engine or you will both die.”
Avery swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. Waiting.
Behind them, the boat’s engine revved higher. Avery twisted in time to watch the sleek, black machine shoot away.
They were alive, but stranded. Not ideal, but it could be worse.
Popping to her feet, she took several steps back toward the water, watching the retreating boat.
Knox slipped up beside her. His arm circled her shoulders, pulling her against the shelter of his body as they both stared out across the now-empty water.
“We’re going to be fine.”
“How can you say that? We’re alone on a strange island. No one knows where we are. Hell, I don’t even know where we are.”
He laughed, honest to God laughed. How could the man find anything funny right now?
“Neither do I, but it doesn’t really matter.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small device. “Underwater locating beacon like the ones attached to a plane’s black box. Each of the Trident launches is equipped with one in case the boat sinks. I grabbed it before the others arrived. It might take a while for Asher to realize we’ve gone missing and start searching for the high-frequency sonar pulse the device puts out, but he’ll be here eventually. We just have to stay safe until that happens.”
He made it sound so simple.
Avery walked up an incline. At the rise she could see down to the other side of the island.
They’d rounded the long stretch of land on their way in, so while she knew it was about a mile and a half long, it wasn’t very wide. The middle of the island was covered in thick trees and brush. It might be small, but it was definitely big enough to hide snakes, spiders and various other creatures that might be curious about the newcomers.
“Sure, stay safe. We don’t have shelter. Or food and water.”
“Maybe not, but we have alcohol,” Knox said, lifting the bottle of clear liquid high in his fist.
Joy of joys.
With a self-deprecating smile, he dropped it onto the sand at his feet. Rifling through the rest of the bag, Knox tossed several energy bars, a book of matches, rope and a rather wicked-looking machete down beside it.
Avery didn’t understand his frown. At least they weren’t going to starve before Asher showed up. Hopefully.
“Why are you frowning?”
“Because none of this makes sense.”
Dropping beside their pile of supplies, Knox settled back, legs sprawled and elbows digging into the sand. He stared off across the water, his eyebrows beetling together.
“Why didn’t they kill us? Or just let us go in the first place? And why provide us with a bag of supplies?”
“You heard him, he didn’t want us contacting the authorities before they could get away.”
His hot caramel eyes swept across her body, starting at her toes and working up until he connected with her eyes. “How many drug dealers have you known?”
His tone implied he already knew the answer. The problem was, he didn’t.
“More than you probably think.”
His eyebrows rose. Avery sighed, pulling her own gaze away from his. She really didn’t want to get into her history, but it wasn’t like they had anything else to do on this island.
Dropping to the sand beside him, Avery didn’t sprawl as he had. She folded her legs neatly and began sifting the soft sand through her fingers. The motion was soothing somehow.
“My sister was a drug addict. She liked to date dealers because they’d keep her supplied for free.”
“Was?”
Out of that entire statement, he’d picked up on the past tense and decided that was most important?