“Seriously. Your advice is so basic.”
“I could tell you about the ladies in Spain.”
“You listened to them, did you?”
Three Sheets shook his head. “Not exactly.” He cracked up laughing. “So what do you think she’ll do, mate?”
“She’ll take Michel on directly.”
“I guess we better be there then.”
“Not without a plan.”
“A plan?” Three Sheets leaned closer to keep things quiet. “My plan is to turn up and see what happens. It’s always works for me.”
“Until it didn’t. Listen, old man, I have a plan, but I need your help.”
14
The Yacht Called Paradise
“Dead men tell no tales.”
Michel’s yacht was at the dock, so Harley didn’t have to swim out to it. See, it’s going to be easy, she told herself as she descended down the ramp to the docks with her gut clenched. There would be nothing easy about taking down a street-wise criminal who had grown up in a crime family. Who did she think she was? Superwoman? Suspicion ran in his blood, and if he got a whiff of someone double-crossing him, he would act out.
And, she was alone.
As she approached the boat, her mind screamed at her to retreat and rethink, but her heart wouldn’t let her. If she ran now, she would be running forever. She had to cut her ties with him forever.
Giovanni, Michel’s second-in-command, spotted her as she lifted her first foot onto the deck. She smiled at him as he pulled out a cell phone and sent a text. I’m dead, she thought. But he didn’t shoot, so she still had a chance.
What the heck. Go ahead, call in the evil-cavalry. Might as well see what I’m up against.
She tried to look like a dumb dame, which she kind of was, and concentrated on her breathing. She had learned in a yoga retreat info commercial that that was the thing to do in stressful situations. A minute later, the other three muscle men stood beside their leader. Giovanni spoke to them. “Don’t touch her. Don’t say anything to her. Michel will be here in a minute.”
A staring game commenced. “Such a lovely day,” Harley said to the testosterone pack, wanting to sound relaxed.
Michel and his brother Antonio came out of the main cabin. Michel looked happy. Antonio looked angry. The mobster guys. What did it matter? She would make this happen.
“Harley, you never fail to surprise me.” Michel smiled at her as if they had met coincidentally at the country club. “So nice to see you.”
“And you.” She put on her happiest face.
“Welcome aboard. I don’t think we finished talking about our business.”
Antonio with a stone face that could scare a gargoyle scanned the area. The other men remained in their wall formation. The blond’s hands trembled. She had liked him. He seemed more normal than the rest of the goons. The others looked like paid monkeys waiting for the cue to perform. One chewed gum and scanned the docks. The other stared at her, as if his pupils were laser beams that could fry her brains. And Giovanni watched it all, as if he were the orchestra leader with a front-row seat.
“Come on into the main cabin,” Michel said, in a business-like tone.
“My pleasure,” she said.
Michel led the way and she followed with Antonio and Giovanni on her tail. The others took positions on the deck. Undoubtedly they had entertained hostile visitors before. Harley shook off the feeling of being the lead dancer in a well-choreographed death performance with the devil.
“Search her,” ordered Antonio.
Giovanni moved forward.
“No,” Michel said. “let me.”
Oh great I got saved from being groped by the muscle man, but now I have to endure being felt up by Michel. She made herself smile in a way that she hoped looked provocative. “This should be fun,” she said. Just pretend you’re at the airport. She told herself, That’s all this is. A pat down.
As he moved in she could smell his distinctive fish breath and fought her body to not shudder. His pupils widened as he approached. God I hope he doesn’t drool. I might lose it if he drools.
He started patting her body, but it didn’t feel as impersonal as an airport shakedown. His touch had a creepy, lingering feel to it. “Spread your legs,” he said.
Oh shit.
When he finished touching her in places he didn’t belong, he moved back up to her hips and grasped them firmly, drawing her close to him. His stench fully enveloped her. “I own you, bitch,” he said softly.
She kept her smile on, as her insides crumbled.
“Later I’ll give you a more thorough inspection, in private.”
Oh yeah, Michel was good with the lines. “We’ll see,” she said, in a husky voice that teased.
Antonio went to a side table and came out with the wand they used to detect guns. “My turn,” he said in a bark.
Michel waved him away. “Antonio, Giovani, leave us alone. Harley and I have business to discuss.”
Yay! Round one for Harley and her husky voice.
The extra men left and Harley sat down on the white leather sofa. “I need a drink,” she said. Her words alone made her sound like a vixen, a Mae West drunk on hormones, but the stunned expression on his face confirmed that the smoothness she slid into her voice hit him like fine cognac straight up. No matter how silly and overdone she felt, she needed to keep it up. Her plan was working. Dilated pupils, heightened alertness and testosterone vibrating in the air. Check, check and check.
As he fixed her a White Russian, which he knew was her favorite, she rambled. “The town, Sunset Cove, is quaint. It’s a perfect place to paint and relax.”
“My men tell me they have ghosts.” His voice mocked them.
“Yeah, right. Like I would ever believe in ghosts.” Pretending he was Killion for a moment, she raked his body with appreciative eyes. He chuckled. Mobster chuckles—one part humor and one part ill intent— are not pleasant to the ear, but she gave him a come-hither expression as he handed her the drink. His laugh could mean a lot of different things: he could be thinking of making her a ghost, or he liked ghosts, or he’d listen to any prattle as long as he could get in her panties. But whatever it meant, the sound prickled her nerves.
There were many places to sit in the well-appointed cabin, but Michel, of course, sat right next to her on the sofa with his scotch on the rocks in his hand. He took a long drink. “We have some catching up to do.” His hand touched her thigh.
Ugh. Oh ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh. She moved closer to him. “We do.” But as he leaned in to kiss her, she took a demure sip of her drink and licked her lips.
He groaned. “You’ve never been easy.”
“What’s the fun in easy, handsome.”
His hand moved higher on her thigh. Good thing she had long legs. “You know, Antonio wants you dead.”
She laughed and put her hand on his arm. “You sure know how to talk to a girl.”
His hand went higher. Definitely in dangerous territory. “He thinks you’re a liability.”
“What do you think?”
He leered. “Some liabilities are worth carrying.” His hand went higher. “You need to prove to me that you deserve to live.”
Where did he get these lines? Gently she pushed him back and took a sip of her drink. “Baby, I’m worth waiting for and you know it. I need to be in the mood.” How the hell can I get the mickey into his drink, when his hands are all over me? Oh for the love of all that’s holy, I need a break. Couldn’t I get one teensy-weensy bit of luck my way?
He leaned in and kissed her with his fish breath and cold, rubbery lips that repulsed every nerve in her body. Oh hell. She kissed him back. Ew. Ew. Ew.
Pulling back Michel looked at her and smiled. He took off his sweater and threw it behind him. Then he undid his belt and zipped down his fly. “I’m so glad you came back.”
Shit.
Harley jumped up. “My turn,” she cooed. How she found the strength to coo she didn’t know, b
ut she cooed as if her life depended on it, because of course it did. Slowly, she pulled her sweatshirt off, leaving her with only her lacy bra.
Michel’s eyes looked ready to pop out of their sockets. Sweat dripped down his forehead. She dared not look to see how the rest of his body faired, but she could well imagine it.
Carefully she rolled down her leggings and threw them aside. In for a penny in for a pound. She gave him a full pout and gulped down her drink.
“You’re beautiful,” he said.
“Not bad yourself,” she said ruffling the hair that fell into his eyes. “How about another drink?”
“Now?”
She nodded.
It took him a moment to decide his next move. Then he grabbed her glass and headed to the bar.
When his back was towards her, she opened the secret compartment of her ring, which held the mickey. It had been a birthday gift from a good friend of hers, whose motto was “be prepared.” How right she was, but, to her horror, the powder had hardened. It must have happened when she swam ashore. Oh hell!
With only seconds to act, she dumped the solid lump into his drink and said a silent prayer that it would dissolve or that he would choke on the chunk. Harley sat on the sofa and crossed her legs. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip.
When he returned with her drink she gave him a dazzling smile and raised her glass for a toast. They clinked. “To the future,” she said.
“Our future,” he said and took a good swallow of his scotch.
He sat next to her and, as she sipped her fresh Russian, his hand slid up her bare thigh while his eyes stayed glued to her breasts. He reminded her of a leech. She swallowed her drink slowly and dramatically. Every second ticked by slower than she thought possible.
His hand reached the top of her thigh and she flinched. Soft, tender, lovingly—none of those words described his touch. He groped and dominated. The contents of her stomach rose in her throat.
His free hand pushed her back on the sofa and he moved in for a second kiss. He leered at her and rubbed himself. “I’m ready.”
“I like it slow,” she said.
His face flushed. “If you don’t like my technique, I could get the boys in here to help me. I hear some women like that. I know they would like that.”
An alarm screeched, piercing the stillness of the night. Michel jumped up and his pants fell down to his knees. Giovanni rushed in the doorway with his gun drawn. He looked at his boss and his full erection and stopped in his tracks with his hands up.
“Go, go,” yelled Michel. “I got her. Find out what set off the alarm.”
As the men searched the boat, Michel pulled up his pants and went to the side cabinet. He pulled out a gun. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with you, would it?”
“No.”
After giving her a hard stare, he put extra bullets in his pocket and went to the door. “We had a drug deal go bad last week with some Mexicans, and if it’s them, it could get really rough. Lock the door after I leave. Stay out of sight. There’s no telling what those assholes will do.”
Harley couldn’t be happier, though her head felt buzzy because of the liquor she had downed. Alone in the cabin, she started up Michel’s laptop, which sat on a side table. She knew his passwords, because it was one of those details she thought might come in handy someday, and had watched him use them. Once in, she scanned his files, found his accounts and sent a copy to her email. She saw a file named Harley, copied and deleted it. She couldn’t risk taking time to read it
If anyone caught her, she’d be dead in seconds, but the men seemed to have disappeared to the bow of the boat. They moved around and talked, but she couldn’t hear any arguing or fighting.
With her mission accomplished, she had to get out of there. The last thing she wanted to see was another murder. Suddenly Three Sheets shimmered into view beside her. “Time to leave, love.”
“Did you set off the alarm?”
“No, that would be Killion and he’s keeping them busy but sooner or later they will come back for you.
Michel entered the cabin. “What the…”
Three Sheets drew his sword.
“Michel, let me introduce you to my friend,” Harley said.
Antonio, running up behind Michel fired his gun into the air. “Move, Michel. It’s her. It’s been her all along. Let me by.”
Five ghosts shimmered into view surrounding the men. One was a New York City policeman from years back, another a Viking, another had his head half cut off, and one was a biker dude with a hole in his head. She wouldn’t want them mad at her.
“You can’t hurt us,” said Michel in his confident godfather voice.
A new ghost arrived. His accountant.
“What the fuck!” said Michel.
The cabin door slammed. The lights went out. And a strong gust of wind from the mouths of the ghosts pushed Michel and Antonio hard against the wall.
Antonio kept shooting. Harley hit the floor.
“What do you want? We can make a deal,” said Michel, pinned to the wall.
Three Sheets laughed and got into his face. “And what kind of deal would that be?”
“You can have the boat and some money. Just leave us alone.”
“Hmmm. What do you say fellows? It is a shiny boat.” The pirate turned dramatically to the others and they all laughed. “That’s what I thought. It’s not enough, mate.”
“Okay. Okay. The boat, the money and the girl.”
The ghosts grumbled, which sounded like thunder in the small space.
“Okay. Name your price.”
Harley crouched behind the sofa and watched.
“How much treasure are we talking?” asked Three Sheets.
The door burst open and Killion entered, dragging Giovanni by the neck. He threw Giovanni across the room. “The boat is ours,” he said.
Harley stood up. Killion’s brow rose. “Nice lace.”
Harley had never felt so naked.
With a flick of his sword, Three Sheets whisked her sweatshirt off the floor and threw it in her direction. She grabbed it and put it on. By the time she finished, Killion was handing her her leggings. He leaned in to kiss her and the alarm went off again.
“What the fuck?” said Antonio.
“Police?” asked Harley.
“Better than police,” said Killion who went to the cabin door to greet the visitors. “Hola Matias. Como estas mi buen amigo.”
15
T'is a Pirate's Life for Me
“We can’t adjust the direction of the wind, but I can adjust the sails …”
~Thomas S. Monson
With the excitement over, the ghosts disappeared into the night and Killion walked Harley back to the teahouse. As they reached the door, the sound of an explosion from behind them on the docks made them turn around. Michel’s boat was on fire, and a large inflatable boat had pulled out into the harbor with ten men in it. It was hard to tell from a distance, but she thought she could see Michel and Matias.
Killion took Harley’s hand in his. “It’s over. Michel and his family will never bother you again.”
“You know you didn’t need to come to my rescue,” she said.
“Right.”
“I had him drugged and …”
“I wanted to rescue you.” His softened voice sent shivers straight to her heart.
“I had it all under control.”
“Maybe you did.” Killion took her hand in his. “But I couldn’t stand the thought of him or any other man touching you.”
“Trust me, the touching wouldn’t have gone far.”
Killion took her other hand in his. “Even one touch was too many.”
He leaned in and kissed her softly on her lips, sending a tidal wave of ravaging heat through her entire body. She moaned as the undeniable spark between them ignited into a wickedly hot flame.
It was a moment she never wanted to end, but she pulled back. “Killion you need to tell me about the Me
xicans.”
His sinfully dark-chocolate eyes locked with hers and he ran a tender finger down her face. “There’s a lot I need to tell you. I don’t want to start out with secrets between us and my past …”
“Is complicated.”
He laughed. “Yeah. I’m no white knight. I’ve done things …”
Harley put a finger on his mouth. “I want you to tell me everything, but I’m telling you right now, that no matter what you’ve done in your past it doesn’t alter this moment or our future. I know you’re a good man Killion Black.”
The front door of the teahouse squeaked opened on its own.
The front door of the teahouse opened on its own.
***
Two days later, Three Sheets had sunk into a bad case of the blahs, which was far from normal for him. He didn’t even want to play poker. He sought Azalea’s wise counsel. They sat down in Lileth’s room, the one with the resident black cat, and while he couldn’t drink tea, or offer her his hand, he could sit with her and listen.
Azalea with her white hair perched on top of her head, looked over her reading glasses at him and tsked. “Let’s get straight to it. You’re feeling left out.”
He nodded. “The young ones have their happy ending, but I just carry on.”
“Ah, but there you’re wrong, Three Sheets.”
“Don’t start on me. I already have a shrink who wants to make a better man of me and send me up. I don’t need another soul-saver in my life.”
“No, I don’t want to send you anywhere, my dear friend. I like you being here. I’m just saying that you too have a happy ending.”
“Let’s see.” He used his fingers to count. “No treasure. No boat. No woman. What, pray tell, do I get?”
“Family.”
“Ah, there is that. It’s nice to spend time with Killion. He reminds me so much of myself.”
She leaned her slender body back in the chair and her lips spread into a wide smile. The cat, jumped onto her lap. “I’ll tell you one thing and one thing only.”
“You can’t read my future.”
“No, but I have read Killion’s.”
Confessions of a Pirate Ghost (Gambling Ghosts Series Book 3) Page 7
