Worth the Risk (COBRA Securities Book 21)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “No. I heard an engine, but I couldn’t see anything. It didn’t have running lights.”

  One of the other men spoke. His eyes were hard, and he pinned Quinn with a suspicious look. “What are you doing here?”

  Quinn glanced around. “Kinda obvious, isn’t it? I’m camping. Communing with nature.” The man didn’t look convinced, so he added, “Needed some time alone. I broke up with my fiancée.”

  “That’s rough,” Redbeard said, not looking the least bit sympathetic. “Mind if I have a look inside your tent?”

  Quinn crossed his arms. “Actually, I do.”

  The man who abducted Vanessa took a step closer. “Why is that? Got something to hide?”

  “No, but I’m not going to let random strangers rifle through my things. What are you looking for anyway?”

  Redbeard shifted his stance, and Quinn caught the twitching of his fingers. He would bet he was itching to grab the weapon stashed in a holster beneath his shirt. Quinn lowered his arms for better access to his gun. If it came down to a draw, he’d win hands down.

  “Why won’t you let us look? What are you hiding?”

  He held up his hands. “I’m not hiding anything, and I’d let you look, but he won’t.” He walked over to the tent and lifted a flap. He used one of the German commands so the men wouldn’t understand what he was saying. “Kilo, Achtung. Brummen. He instructed him to watch and growl, which he did so menacingly, complete with fangs bared.

  Redbeard took a hasty step back.

  “Go, search the island,” he instructed the other two without taking his eyes from Kilo. “You don’t mind if we do that, do you?” It was obvious the question wasn’t a question. They would investigate whether he gave them permission or not.

  Quinn waved a hand to encompass the area. “Have at it.”

  The men took off. He’d successfully steered them away from the tent. Now he just had to convince them to leave the island.

  #

  Cocooned inside the sleeping bag, Vanessa clutched Rocky tightly. Picking up on her nervous energy, he trembled in her arms. She crooned softly to him to let him know it would be okay, even as an engine neared and then throttled down. It had to be the men searching for her. She trusted Quinn to keep her safe, but what if he was outnumbered? Maybe she should surrender. She didn’t want him hurt because of her. She didn’t want to end up in their clutches again, either.

  “What can I do for you three gentlemen?”

  Quinn pitched his voice loud enough to let her know how many arrived. Though she didn’t really know him, she had no doubt he could take on the trio, and singlehandedly bring them down. What if they get in a shot first? She shuddered.

  When she heard him mention a fiancée, her stomach pitched. He was using it as an excuse for being stranded on the island, but what if he had a real one somewhere? He might even be married with three kids or dating at the very least. Once he left the military, she had no idea what happened to him. She was too embarrassed to ask her father, so she tried to forget about him, which proved impossible. She hoped she hadn’t been fantasizing about a married man.

  Her heart stopped when the men asked to search the tent. They would find her in three seconds. The tent was small, and her hiding place wasn’t the best. But Quinn stuck his head inside and called Kilo, who hopped to his feet and growled ominously. That seemed to convince them because they didn’t storm inside to grab her.

  It worried her that the men knew who she was—or they could easily figure it out since they had her phone. She hoped she and Quinn found a way off the island and to the police before the men caught up with them. They wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her.

  Vanessa’s eyelids drooped. She’d gotten plenty of rest, so she shouldn’t be tired, but the residual effects of the drug tried to lure her under again. She needed to stay awake in case things took a turn for the worse, and Quinn needed her help. But the men weren’t leaving. What were they doing? Sleep beckoned her. She would just close her eyes for a second.

  #

  Quinn made sure his gaze didn’t stray to the tent. He didn’t want to give the intruders any reason to think he had anything to hide. He was just a brokenhearted man spending time with his dog and nature. That’s all.

  Despite his relaxed stance, he kept vigilant for any signs of trouble. He didn’t like not knowing where the two men were right now. They were both packing, too. Whereas Redbeard kept his weapon concealed, Vanessa’s original kidnapper wore a holster on his hip. Quinn’s choice was to face Redbeard or turn and watch for the others. He chose the former. He didn’t trust the big man.

  “You a cop?”

  His gaze swung to Redbeard to find him studying him with narrowed eyes. “Nope.”

  “You act like one.”

  Damn, Quinn thought he’d been doing a decent job of acting casual. “I’m not a cop, but I did a stint in the military. You know what they say, you can take the man out of the Army, but you can’t take the Army out of the man.”

  Redbeard grunted, looking thoroughly unimpressed. “What do you do?”

  None of your damn business, he wanted to say. His patience was quickly evaporating. “I was working for my girlfriend’s dad in his construction company.” He shrugged. “Lost the girl, lost the job.”

  “Sucks for you.”

  Man, this guy didn’t even try to be sympathetic. “Sure does.”

  The two men returned, and the one who wasn’t Vanessa’s kidnapper stormed up to him. He instinctively took up a fighting stance, ready to pull his weapon if needed.

  “Where’s your boat? We searched the entire island. There isn’t one.”

  “That’s because I don’t have one.”

  The man sneered. “Yeah, then how did you get here? You got fins under your shirt?”

  It was clear they were suspicious of him. “I had a buddy drop me off. Like I said, I needed some time alone. If I had transportation, I’d be tempted to run back to my girl, beg her to take me back.” He stood up straighter. “Look, I’ve been hospitable about answering your questions, but I’m starting to get annoyed. I came out here for peace and quiet, not to be grilled like some kind of suspect, for what, I have no idea. Now, if you don’t mind, my dog and I would appreciate it if you got back inside your boat and left us the hell alone.”

  The man standing closest to him puffed out his chest, clearly looking for a fight. Quinn was prepared to give him one, but Redbeard called him off. “He’s clean. Let’s go.”

  Quinn stayed on alert as they turned and headed to the shore. One man kept shooting dirty looks over his shoulder. Once they climbed inside and started the engine, he slowly began to relax. As they disappeared from view, he took his first deep breath since their arrival. He hadn’t been too worried. He could’ve efficiently taken all three down, but he didn’t enjoy shooting people. Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that.

  Now that the threat was over, his stomach rumbled. All he had in his backpack were protein bars and trail mix, but they’d need to ration them until he could figure a way off the island. He’d brought monofilament line and lures, so it looked like he’d be fishing for their meals.

  With one last look to make sure the men were gone, he turned for the tent. Kilo was still on alert, so he gave him a release command to let him know he was no longer working. “Kilo, free.” As if flipping a switch, the dog relaxed and nudged Quinn’s hand for affection. As he scratched behind Kilo’s ears, he called out, “It’s clear, Vanessa.” No answer. Ducking down to enter the tent, he spotted the lump behind his backpack. He moved it and tugged down a corner of the blanket to find Vanessa asleep with Rocky in her arms.

  Careful not to wake her, he carried the pack outside. He wanted to explore the island, but they needed sustenance. He found a sturdy stick approximately ten feet long and used a knife to cut off the branches. He located the fishing line and tied it to the handle. Then he wound it along the stick as he twisted it. This method would help if he caught a big fish and it snapped off the
end of the branch. He’d still be able to pull it in. After tying another knot four inches from the end, he located a lure and attached it to the end of the line.

  Fishing wasn’t one of his favorite activities. It was too sedate for his liking. Preferring to be active, he had a hard time sitting still. Kilo followed him as he navigated the path to the rugged shore. He didn’t want to stray too far from the tent in case the men decided to double back. Tossing the line, he settled in to wait for the first fish to bite. He’d prepared for most camping contingencies, so his pack included a small skillet he could use to fry them up, as well as seasonings.

  To relieve boredom, he made a mental list of things he needed to take care of next. He had enough water for two more days. Even though the lake was most likely potable, he’d packed a couple of personal filters that would remove ninety-nine-point nine percent of water-borne parasites and bacteria. He also had purification tablets he’d use for the dogs. If all else failed, he’d boil the water first to get rid of any microorganisms.

  The tent would provide adequate refuge, but if they were stranded for any length of time, he needed to think about constructing a more stable shelter in case of inclement weather. He’d noticed the sky was overcast and gray. Without access to the internet, he had no idea if the forecast called for rain. The absence of boat activity made him think it was a distinct possibility. Sleeping on soggy, wet earth wasn’t fun. There were plenty of downed trees lying around. He’d packed a small hatchet, so he could build a primitive structure to surround the tent and cover it with leaves and twigs. He also needed to create a platform to raise it off the ground.

  Though he hadn’t checked the island out, he didn’t have much hope there would be an opportunity to hunt anything other than possibly birds or rodents, which was good for him. He despised hunting even more than he did fishing. Killing a living animal wasn’t something he relished. There might be edible berries, nuts and tree bark they could harvest.

  He scanned the horizon while he waited for a nibble. It would be risky flagging down a passing watercraft, but they needed to get to town as soon as possible to notify the authorities. Squinting, he spotted land to the east. It was too far away to swim. He might be able to construct a raft that would convey him there. He’d have to leave Vanessa and the dogs behind, and that made him nervous. Kilo would protect her, but these men weren’t messing around. They possessed firepower and wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

  Detecting movement from the corner of his eye, he simultaneously reached for his weapon as Kilo alerted. A bow drifted into view. No motor. He recognized the three men as they inched closer, one scanning the island with binoculars. Despite Redbeard claiming Quinn was clean, it was apparent they didn’t trust him. Thank goodness Vanessa had fallen asleep. If she’d been outside when they returned, they’d have been busted.

  Lifting a hand, he offered a two-finger salute as if he didn’t have anything to hide. It took all his willpower not to flip them off instead. Without returning the greeting, the motor kicked to life, and they sped out of sight.

  Change of plans. Building a raft to get them off the island became the top priority. He didn’t think the men would come back a third time, but he couldn’t chance it. First, he would construct a small lean-to further from the shore where Vanessa and the dogs could hide if the men did happen by the island again while he was gone.

  The branch bobbed in his hand, jerking his thoughts back to the present. Holding the stick tightly, he dragged the line in to reveal a fat, squirming trout. Kilo’s rapt gaze kept watch as it flopped around on the rocks until it finally came to a rest. Quinn removed the hook and carried it back to the fire to clean and slice it into fillets. He found the aluminum skillet in his pack, as well as a spatula and the fish seasoning kit that included small pouches of breading and oil. Cast iron would’ve been the best choice for cooking over the fire, but it was significantly heavier than the pan he selected. He packed as light as possible.

  Some thoughtful campers left a metal grate behind, so he placed it over the flames and settled the skillet on top. Soon the delicious scent of frying fish filled the air.

  Chapter Ten

  Vanessa startled awake from a nightmare. Two men had been dragging Quinn’s lifeless body away while another one restrained her. She’d been fighting to free herself while screaming his name. Suddenly, it started to drizzle.

  Her fingers strayed to her cheek and came away wet. Then she realized it hadn’t been raining in her dream. Rocky had been licking her face to wake her. She rubbed his back.

  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. What if the men had harmed Quinn? She listened but didn’t hear any voices. Tossing the sleeping bag aside, she waited while Rocky scrambled to his feet and stretched before she crawled towards the flap. The scent of frying fish drifted to her, and her tummy growled. It’d been almost a day since she ate anything other than trail mix, and she lost that after the second murder.

  Chancing a peek, she found Quinn sitting by the fire with Kilo nearby. A quick scan told her they were alone.

  Quinn turned when she stepped outside. “How do you feel?”

  “Better. Rested. How long was I out?”

  “Only a couple of hours.” He returned his attention to the skillet and flipped the fish.

  She moved closer. “What happened to the men?”

  “They left.”

  “Do you think they suspected anything?”

  He looked up at her. “No, but we don’t want to take any chances. We need to be careful and stay out of sight as much as possible.”

  “That smells amazing.”

  “It’s just about ready. I have a couple of titanium plates in the bag.” He indicated the pack with his chin.

  She dug around and found the plates as well as utensils. One end was a combo fork and spoon, or spork, and the other was a knife. Clever.

  She started to turn away when her gaze snagged on a small packet. Reaching back inside, one of her brows raised with intrigue when she realized the item in her hand was a condom—size magnum. There were at least a dozen. “You really did come prepared.”

  His back was to her, so he missed the double entendre. She tossed it back in the pack, hoping they’d get the opportunity to delete his supply soon. The thought sent a happy tingle through her veins.

  She held the plates while he doled out pieces of perfectly browned fish. She handed him his and led him back to the tent. He cut up pieces of one filet and divided it between the dogs.

  The fish was delicious and seasoned wonderfully. She barely remembered chewing. Kilo and Rocky scarfed down their portions, too. All too soon, it was gone.

  “Stay here while I clean up.”

  She wanted to argue, but he was keeping her safe. He scraped the residue from the pan and then carried it to the edge of the water. After rinsing it out, he filled it with water and brought it back to the fire to boil. Once it began to bubble, he used a rolled-up shirt to lift the handle from the grate and place it on a rock. He let it cool slightly before sanitizing the plates and utensils. There was something so sexy about watching a man doing dishes. Maybe it was just watching this man that did it for her. Though he wore a long-sleeved shirt, the bulge of muscles was evident and impressive. He clearly worked out to be in such great shape. He’d been fit as a teenager, but with the lean body of a basketball player. Now he looked like a warrior.

  Once he finished, he stopped in front of her. “Do you feel like taking a walk?”

  “Sure.” The food helped, as did the nap. He held out a hand to assist her to her feet. She sucked in a breath when their palms touched, and her gaze snapped to his. He looked as shocked as she felt. He’d held her last night when he rescued her from the bunker and again when she fell off the boat, but she’d been under the effects of the drug. Now, skin to skin, his touch imprinted on her soul.

  Clearing his throat, he asked, “Ready?”

  She nodded, not trusting her voice. She wanted to cry out when he released her and stuffed
his hands in his pockets. Once again, she wondered about a wife or girlfriend.

  They meandered around, keeping to the interior instead of closer to the water. Quinn pointed out edible berries, and she gathered them for snacks. It was obvious the island had been used often in the past. Plastic bottles, paper and cigarette butts littered the ground. She wanted to gather it all up to preserve the beauty. People could be so careless. Unfortunately, she had nothing to put the garbage in and no way to get rid of it.

  “This is a good spot.”

  She turned to Quinn. “Good for what?”

  “I’m going to construct a platform off the ground to keep the tent floor dry if it rains.”

  She examined the overcast sky. “That’s a great idea. I’ll help.”

  Together they gathered over two dozen logs, some thin, some thick. Quinn used a hatchet to remove branches. Then he started construction with two short thicker logs on each end approximately the size of the tent. He placed two long poles across the logs and then hammered in two more to act as stakes on each corner to hold everything in place before he added two more thick trunks on top of the other two. The longer, thinner logs went on top to make the base. Once the platform was complete, they added leaves and soft vegetation for padding. It was hard work, and it felt like a significant accomplishment.

  She stepped back to admire the work. “Impressive.”

  “That’s just the base. Let’s get the tent and set it up. Then I want to use the rest of the logs to make a lean-to.”

  Construction took most of the day. Once the shelter was finished, so was Vanessa. Even though Quinn did most of the work, she was exhausted. The army green tent now rested on the platform three feet off the ground with a cover of logs and leaves that almost resembled a carport with three open sides. She had no idea how he did it. It included some impressive tree-climbing to finish it off. He chopped the remaining logs into firewood and placed them beneath the platform to keep them dry. When they departed the island, they were leaving it better than when they arrived. People would use the structure for years to come.