by Camryn Rhys
He growled his release and felt the seed leaving his body as he poured himself into her. Everything left him. All the years of being alone. All the pain. All the fear that someone would know him for who he really was.
A cop killer.
Chris Parker.
Each thrust brought a little more relief. She knew him. She’d had called him by name. She claimed him. He was hers.
Luther walked her to the bed and dropped her onto her back, continuing to fuck her. She just clung to his neck and whispered over and over, “You are mine. You are mine. You belong to me.”
Chris Parker was alive.
“Fuck,” he whispered into the familiar bedspread. “I’m so sorry. Maggie.”
Her giggle was unmistakable. She laughed. He pulled back and caught her gaze, then rolled onto his side and slid out of her.
“Don’t hear me complaining.” A smile slipped across her beautiful lips, lighting her whole face. “I needed that as much as you did.”
Luther panted, catching the breath he’d finally found. “I needed that?”
She touched his chest again, where his heart beat a wild drum beneath her fingertips. “There are things you just know about your mate. We’re not totally connected yet, because that takes a special kind of bond. But I can sense things about you that I can’t sense about other people. It’s a magick thing.”
He scraped a hand through his hair. “None of this makes any sense to me—how you know these things.”
“It doesn’t have to.” Maggie drummed her fingers on his chest. “You’ll learn.” She pushed herself off the bed and slipped on the jean shorts she’d been wearing.
“Where are you going?” He pulled up his own shorts and sat up, looking around for his shirt. “I live here, y’know. You don’t actually have to leave.”
She leaned into him and found his lips with hers. “How quickly a fucked leopard changes his spots.” Another giggle.
Surprising as fuck, this woman. Ten minutes ago, she’s pissed. Now, she’s laughing. Maybe we are perfect for each other, after all.
Maggie sank down on top of him and straddled him. “You need to know that I’m in this for the long haul.”
“Given that I didn’t know you until yesterday, I’m not worried about the long haul yet.” He shook his head and laid back on the bed, letting her hang over him, resting her hands on his chest.
“But you will be when I tell you why I’m here.”
Something gripped his heart. Chris Parker. She wanted his help with Rossi. He bucked his hips and she slid off him, onto the bed.
“I can’t help you.” He curled his hands into fists of bedspread and flesh and anger. “Whether you know about Chris or not.”
“You think that if people find out you killed the real Luther Frost, they’re going to put you in jail. But I’m telling you, I can help you with that.” She bounced on her knees beside him. “I am a freaking genius, Luther—Chris. I can do anything I want to your identity. I can make you a whole new one. You don’t have to be either of them anymore. You can just be you.”
He pulled on the fabric. “That’s not it. I told you. I need Rossi.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” He jumped to his feet, panic unfurling inside like a bloom in the spring morning. “If it was only jail, then I’d do the time.”
She pounded the bedspread. “Dammit, Luther. I think we’ve proven that there’s more going on here than just a casual fling. You need to let me help you. Let me free you from Rossi.”
“It’s not Rossi I’m worried about.” He slipped out his tongue to wet dry lips. “In fact, I can’t guarantee that you haven’t set off some alarm somewhere just by looking for Chris Parker.”
“What?” With a little shake of her head, she sat back on her heels. “I’m confused.”
“The guys I ran from when I killed Luther Frost… that’s who Adrian is protecting me from.” He focused on a flaw in the wood floor, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to get through the story if he thought too much about the danger he was putting her in.
“Luther was a bad cop. All the commendations and medals… Lies.” He gripped the desk chair beside him and bored his gaze into the knot. “I was undercover—”
“I know that. Irish mob. Boston. You had to execute someone to move up in the organization.” She reached for him and Luther backed up, but she kept coming. As soon as her skin was on his again, his inner resolve faded. “It’s something they make undercover cops do. You become a criminal. ‘We own you.’”
“How do you know all this?” He tried to shake off her touch, but couldn’t.
“I told you.” She grabbed his face with both hands. “I’m that good, Chris Parker.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“But that’s who you are. You’re the guy who went undercover because of your connections to Whitey Bolger. You’re the guy who decided to take down the Irish mob all by yourself.” Her eyes glistened. “That man is a good man.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Stop.” She gripped him hard. “Your running away is done. You’re going to help us, and you’re going to leave both Luther and Chris behind on that island, and you’re going to be my mate for a hundred years.”
Her features were so set, her words so certain. He could almost believe her.
He wanted to believe her.
He needed her to be telling him the truth.
“All right, then, Maggie.” He paused, searching for the words. “Shit, I just realized, I don’t know your last name.”
A grin brightened her face. “Cheeky bastard.” She kissed him and whispered into his ear, “It’s Gallagher. Maggie Gallagher.”
Luther slipped his arms around her and held her tight. His mate. Whatever the hell that meant. He was going to be safe.
He was going to be a new man for her.
Chapter Seven
Luther unlocked the main cabin control panel and stepped back to let Maggie dig around. She pushed buttons and brought up screens he’d never even seen before. But after a few minutes, she stepped back and chewed the end of one finger.
“This can’t be right.” She typed in another command and the home screen appeared. A few more keystrokes, and another blank screen. “Are your employee records on here?”
“Why do you need those?” He settled back into the Captain’s chair.
“I’m going to need all the specs. Employees, schedules, patrol rotations—”
He grabbed her typing hand. “Patrol rotations?”
“I know there are guards who patrol the island, but the camera angles aren’t comprehensive anywhere except the coast.” She shook her head. “He’s got a camera on every single inch of water, practically, but then when it comes to the island itself, I couldn’t get a good schematic of the layout.”
Luther clicked open a cabinet under the chair and pulled out the chart. He unrolled it across the boat controls, but Maggie barely glanced at it.
“Not the coast.” She waved her hand. “I’ve got that coastline memorized.”
“You mean, the building locations? That’s what you need?” He rolled up the chart and hit the paper against his leg with a thwack-thwack that filled the silence while Maggie considered.
“And layouts.” She typed in a few more keystrokes and the display went dead. “I haven’t been able to find them anywhere.”
“That’s because they don’t exist.” He stuck the chart back in the cabinet.
She glanced inside the little storage locker and frowned. “Who built the house? Maybe they have plans.”
“I don’t know.” Luther turned the lock and leaned back in the chair.
“Well, maybe you can describe it to me.” She took the first mate seat and he couldn’t help smiling.
It was a strange feeling, having a woman in the main cabin. He could get used to it. “I’ve never seen it.”
Her eyebrows knit together, creasing her forehead. “You haven’t seen Adrian’
s house?”
“Never.”
“Never?”
“I hire the guys for the penthouse and the boathouse, I ferry supplies, and I keep an eye on the boat.”
Maggie gave a short, disbelieving shake of her head and sighed. “Well, let’s start with employee records, then. Maybe if I know a little bit more about them, I can find a pressure point with someone.”
“Records?” Luther laughed, trying to imagine his stern-faced boss handing over a W-2 along with the illegal ammunition. “We don’t have employee records. We all get paid in cash and each crew hires their own people.”
She leaned forward, like she might rise, but froze in thought. “But I thought you were the head of security.”
“Yeah, according to Julianna, I am.” He picked at a loose webbing on the underside of the main control panel. Thinking too much. This was dangerous. “Adrian sends her to me because he doesn’t want her having access to his staff. I’m more like the concierge than the head of anything.”
Her frozen face didn’t reflect any of the frustration that was building inside him. After all that it took to admit he wanted to bring down Adrian Rossi, he didn’t have anything to offer her.
Luther flexed his hands and stood. “I hire the guys in the penthouse. I hire the guys in the boathouse. I inventory and deliver all the supplies, I control the boat—the only access to the island, by Adrian’s design, I guess—and I pay the guys I hire. That’s it.” He walked across the cabin and leaned against the edge of the curved window. “When his rich buddies show up, I drive them around and give them boat rides and take them to the island. I carry their wives’ bags… Shit. I’m sorry, Mag.”
She slid her arms around his waist and he jumped at the contact. With her head pressed against his back, she sighed. “There’s no reason to be sorry.”
Luther held her hand and leaned against her. “I just…I thought I could help. I thought you knew what you were looking for.”
“We’ve spent the last three weeks diagramming every inch of that coastline, looking for a way onto the island. Taking fishing boats out to the sight line. He’s just watching every inch.”
“That’s true.” Luther remembered the inlet, the beach. “There’s a camera every hundred yards or so, and the ones on the cliffs have floodlights.”
“We haven’t been able to figure out why, other than he—”
“He doesn’t want anyone getting on that island,” he finished with a sigh.
“Or off.”
The words hung in the silence like an alpine echo. Off the island. Luther had never considered that. He always assumed Adrian was a private—if ruthless—bastard who needed to control access to his home. But when Maggie’s words resonated, he couldn’t stop the realizations.
He had been part of the problem.
He brought people onto the island.
He kept the guards on watch.
He protected Adrian Rossi’s evil enterprise.
But he’d known all this, somewhere deep down inside, and because he was Luther Frost, he’d given himself a pass. But he wasn’t getting that pass any longer. He wasn’t going to let his ignorance get innocent people killed or tortured or raped, or whatever Rossi was doing on that island.
“We need to get more information before we can make any plans.” Maggie released him and walked back to the console. Her shoes made a rubber squeaking sound on the wood and Luther snapped out of his reverie.
“The only real way in would be to come on this boat.” He set his jaw. “It’s the only way you won’t be seen.”
She glanced over her shoulder and a flash of concern sparked across her features. “You can’t do that. Rossi has…” A hand traveled to her neck. “He’s seen me. If he’s watching the cameras, he’ll know I’m there.”
“There’s one spot they don’t have a camera.”
Her head cocked to one side. “There is?”
“Under the boat house. The security center on the beach.” Luther stepped in front of her and took the hand that still scratched at the skin on her neck. “I can take one of you at night and drop you at the sight line. If you swim in behind the boat in the dark and come in under the boat house, right between the stilts, there’s a little blind spot.”
Her eyes brightened. “There is?”
“It’s temporary. Brooks had to replace one of the cameras, and they’re a special order. It’s supposed to come in…” Luther flipped through dates in his mind and his heart bottomed out. “Tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe I missed that.” She brought up the display again, then went to the black screen and her fingers flew over the keys. A rotation of camera angles on the inlet came up.
“Brooks told me it’s only about a ten-foot radius right underneath the house that’s not visible, because most of the cameras overlap, for constant coverage.”
Maggie went from camera to camera and forced out a tight laugh. “You’re right. I can see where the feed should be, but it just replicates the last angle.” She smacked the hard plastic dashboard. “Dammit, how did I miss that?”
She typed through the angles again. “It’s all the way out, too. And the swath that’s missing should get bigger…” Maggie reached for the chart and spread it out on the control panels again. She drew two circles with one finger. “The missing piece gets bigger as it goes out into the ocean, because the cameras go in circles.”
With the other finger, she flipped another camera angle, then drew another circle. An impish smile spread across her face and she looked up at Luther. “It’s narrowest under the boat house, but it’s bigger going back out to sea, and then going up the island.”
Her implication settled into his chest.
“No, Maggie. Hell no and a side of no fucking way.” He grabbed her shoulders. “You are not swimming onto that island.”
She bounced on her toes and nodded. “Yes, I am. And you’re coming with me.”
* * *
Luther swore under his breath and turned out the last of the boat lights. They were almost within sight of the island, and Maggie hadn’t stopped moving since they’d left the dock.
He didn’t like the plan, but it was the only way he could get her what she needed. It was the only way he could make up for having done nothing for two years, and convincing himself that Luther Frost was a bad guy.
Hell, he was a bad guy. He’d apparently been ferrying johns back and forth to indulge their sick fantasies for years. Keeping his eyes down, taking his cash, accepting Adrian’s protection.
It was a bitter pill.
Maggie grabbed his arm. Her energy was through the roof. He remembered that feeling—having waited and staked out and researched for weeks or months. Then, finally, you get to act on your information. It was a high that nothing else could replicate.
“You promise me again,” he ordered her. She’d said it several times, but he still didn’t believe it.
“Recon only. I promise, I won’t do anything reckless.”
“That’s right, you won’t.” He felt like patting her head or something, but had a feeling she wouldn’t take kindly to the gesture.
Plus, she was probably lying to him.
But he couldn’t do nothing any longer. If it took a little risk to get the information they needed, then they’d take a little risk.
There was no other way.
“We’re going to be docking in a minute.” Luther pulled back on the throttle. “Get down by the stern thrusters. You’ll want to dive straight out the back so you miss them.”
Maggie slipped her body around his and hugged him tight. He crushed her into him. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he wouldn’t let them cross his lips. They were going to be fine.
“Wait for a minute before you start swimming, so the water can settle behind me. It shouldn’t take you long to swim in. Keep your eyes on the boathouse and come in right—”
“I know. Right between the stilts.” She pressed a kiss to his lips. “Don’t forget the dr
y clothes.”
She scuttled off through the ship and he watched her until she disappeared down the stairs toward the lower deck.
This is a stupid plan. How had he ever let her talk him into this?
Luther had only been to the island at night a few times, but the thing that’d stuck with him was how it always seemed like daylight on the beach. The floodlights were almost always on, and they circled the island in a bright light.
True to form, the island appeared like a floating baseball stadium, lights blazing. He guided the boat into the dock, and just when they were about to cruise into the sight-line of the cameras, he flashed the lights on the lower deck.
He couldn’t hear her splash, and resisted the urge to go check on her.
Maggie was a big girl. She could handle herself.
Luther slowed and puttered into the dock, cutting the engines. He jumped back through the cabin and slid down to the lower deck. Maggie wasn’t there. She must’ve made her dive.
His eyes scoured the dark horizon behind him as he tied off. She was out there somewhere. Swimming toward him in the black night. He dropped the gangway onto the dock and the boat stabilized. With a deep breath, he grabbed a crate of booze that he was supposed to use to stock the boat and carried it up the dock toward the boat house.
Brooks opened the door and came out, scratching his head and yawning. “I’m awake, boss. I promise.”
Luther flipped his gaze to the dark sky, as though he was trying to hide annoyance instead of heart-clenching fear. “I’m not here to check up on you.”
“Well, why else with the midnight visit?” He took the case out of his hands. “You forget something?”
“I’d marked this to stay on the boat, but when I opened the other case, I realized I had two of them. Must have ordered double.” Luther slid his hand to the back of his neck. “Then I remembered that I was supposed to order a case for the big house, so this must be it.”
Brooks shouldered the door open and he followed. The control room was small and dark, lit only by the dim glow of the screens. More coffee sat on the windowsill, as though Brooks had left it there when he opened the door again.
