“How’d you know?” she asked when we were a couple hundred yards out.
I kept the lights off and headed southeast into open waters. “It was too obvious.”
She tightened her arms around her middle. “I don’t follow.”
The Cobalt flew across the water. I scanned for any signs of the Coast Guard or other crafts as I answered her, “Circling without caring if they were being seen, pulling right up to the dock, not concealing themselves.” The dead guy in the boat was wearing a fucking white t-shirt.
She turned away from me.
“Hey.” I stepped back from the helm. “Take the wheel. Keep going straight out, southeast heading.”
She silently did as I asked.
I took off my pants and boots then started dissembling the rifle. I tried like hell to lose myself in the familiar task so I didn’t have to think about the anxiety radiating off my wife like a fucking tsunami. “Take on some speed.” I wanted distance between us and Sunset Key.
She looked over at me. “I’m already almost at full throttle.”
“Do it.” It pissed me off that she was questioning me. It pissed me off that she was keeping her distance. It pissed me off that tonight had been too close a call. But it fucking enraged me that Maldonado was still alive because I hadn’t had the balls to pull the trigger when I’d had the chance three months ago. I didn’t give a shit about killing him. He deserved to die. But I’d given a shit about Layna standing five feet away, knowing she’d forever have that memory of me if I blew him away. It didn’t matter I was only doing it to protect her. It didn’t matter I had just cause. It didn’t matter he was going to kill us. What mattered was that her father had been a criminal and if I’d pulled that trigger, that’s what she would’ve seen.
I didn’t make excuses for who I was because there wasn’t a fucking thing I was ashamed of. I was trained by the U.S. Government and I did my fucking job, always, without question. I lived by a code. But that night, I failed. I didn’t do what I’d been trained to do and I didn’t keep the promise I’d made to her. All because I didn’t want her to see the part of me that was capable of being exactly like her old man. Now here we were, in the exact situation I tried to avoid, but worse, because Maldonado was still alive.
I watched until the lights from shore were no longer visible then I systematically threw pieces of the rifle overboard every hundred yards. I wrapped my pants around a couple rocks and tossed them over. A rock went in each boot then I paused like a fucking pussy.
“What’s wrong?” Layna called over the rushing wind.
“Nothing.”
“You got another pair on board?”
“Yeah.” When we’d brought the Cobalt to Sunset Key, I’d purposely left some supplies onboard for both of us. That wasn’t the problem. Staring at the boots, I felt her eyes on me.
The Cobalt slowed to an idle and I picked my head up. “Speed up.” The words came out harsher than I intended.
“I can’t hear you over the wind.”
“I wasn’t talking,” I snapped.
She flinched but then she straightened her shoulders and glanced at the boots. “They brought you home.”
Out of everything that’d just happened, I was getting hung up on a stupid fucking pair of boots. One of the thousands of pairs issued every week. But this pair had carried my ass out of Afghanistan. They’d walked me through my C.O.’s office for the final time and they’d taken me through four airports to get home to her. “They’re just boots.” I threw one overboard then went to the other side of the boat and tossed the other.
Watching the ocean wash away the evidence from tonight, the tightness in my chest, the anger, it eased marginally and I took a breath. When air drew into my lungs, I was hit with the irony of the situation as shit suddenly came full circle. I understood why she’d tossed my first engagement ring into the waters off Key West.
And I owed her absolution. “I was never mad about the ring.”
She cut the engines and the abrupt quiet of the swells roared to life. “Blaze?”
I turned away from the ocean and looked at my wife. “What?”
Eyes wide, her hands nervously clasped in front of her, she was afraid. Of me. “Tonight, I…”
Fuck. Resignation weighed my shoulders down and I tipped my chin toward the cabin, cutting her off. “Grab me some soap and the bottle of bleach in the head.”
She nodded and disappeared below. I made my way to the swim platform and sat with my feet hanging into the cool water. There’d be long-term effects from tonight. If I was lucky, she’d forgive me. If not…she was alive. I told myself I could live with that.
She set the bleach down and silently handed me the soap.
I scrubbed my hands, arms and face then I slipped off the platform and rinsed off in the ocean. When I hoisted myself back up, she handed me a towel.
I studied her while I dried off. “You’re afraid of me.”
She wouldn’t make eye contact. “Not from tonight.”
I stepped out of my boxers and dropped them overboard. “Then from what?”
“Your secrets.”
I wrapped the towel around my waist. “I don’t have secrets. I have a past.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
Irrational anger surged and I lashed out. “You want to hear about the women I fucked before you?”
Her arms went around her stomach again and she dropped her gaze. “Were there any after me?”
Military trained, countless eliminations, I was a lot of things, but cheater wasn’t one of them. She knew that. “No.”
She picked her head up and her voice became a strained whisper. “How many men have you killed?”
I knew it was coming. I knew that’s what this was all about. I knew she would focus on the act—not the situation, the cause, or the reasons—just the act. I knew it, but the words coming out of her mouth still hit hard. “You think I’m a killer?”
Her throat moved with a swallow. “I think given the right circumstances, anyone is.”
“Not what I asked.”
“You have no remorse.”
I stared her down. “You’re right.”
“That scares me.”
“What do you think happens when you join the military?”
She picked up the bleach, opened it and spilled some where I’d been sitting. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.” She spread the shit around with her foot then poured more bleach on a rag and started wiping down everywhere I’d touched.
I snatched the bottle and rag from her and set them down. “I’m asking you what you think happens when the U.S. military puts armed rifles in the hands of thousands of young men and women?”
“I don’t know.” She threw her hands up. “I’m not asking about them.”
“Do you think they’re trained to hesitate?”
She crossed her arms. “No,” she answered, quick and sharp.
“Do you think they’re trained to worry about ethics or trained to protect the soldier standing next to them in the same damn uniform?”
“Protect.”
“Do you think that protection comes with remorse or honor?”
“Honor,” she ground out.
“Ask me again,” I demanded.
She closed her eyes.
“Ask me.”
Her chest rose and her eyes opened. Focusing on me, her voice barely audible, she asked me again, “How many men have you killed?”
“I don’t know and I don’t give a fuck. I was protecting my country.” I stepped closer to her. “I was protecting you.”
Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’m not going to apologize,” I warned.
Her bottom lip trembled. “I wasn’t going to ask you to.”
I pushed forward, saying what needed to be said. “We either move past this, or we move on…from each other.”
Her breath hitched and her tears broke free.
It took everything I had not to rea
ch for her. “Make a decision,” I demanded.
“Why are you acting so cold?”
“I’m not acting.” This wasn’t an ultimatum. I knew how she felt about those. This was me giving her what she deserved. “I’m giving you a choice. Your decision. No strings.”
“Why are you doing this?” she cried.
I reached the end of my rope. “I’m doing this for you, damn it.”
She sucked in a gasp and it was as if understanding drained the fear from her face. “Move past it,” she said quickly, swiping at her tears.
I wasn’t ready to trust it. “You still scared of me?”
She shook her head.
“Say it.”
Calmly, quietly, she did. “I’m not afraid of you.”
Relief washed over me. “Come here,” I whispered.
Her small body stepped into mine and I wrapped my arms around her.
But she wasn’t ready to let it go. “This is going to follow us.”
No us about it. I killed, she didn’t. “It’s over,” I reassured her.
“I feel like I’ll be looking over my shoulder my whole life.”
I caught her chin and tilted her face up. “Good.”
Her forehead creased with alarm.
“Because you know what you’re gonna see?”
Cautiously, she shook her head.
“Me.”
Her eyes, her body in my arms, they softened. “I never considered moving on.”
“I needed to give you that choice,” I explained.
“I didn’t want it.”
“Good, because I’m not giving it to you again.”
The ghost of the smile I’d killed for touched the edge of her lips.
It was enough.
I covered her mouth with mine and I was home.
MY HANDS THREADED THROUGH HEr hair and I deepened the kiss. I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to reassure myself that she was alive. I wanted to feel her beating heart and tight wetness but we were totally exposed in open waters. Reluctantly, I pulled back.
“I want to make Key Largo by sunrise.” I tucked a strand of her hair that’d come loose behind her ear. “Why don’t you go below and get some rest?” I needed to make some calls.
“Why are you trying to get rid of me?”
If I wasn’t wrecked from the fucking emotional roller coaster we’d just been through, I would’ve smiled. “I’m not. Grab me some clothes?”
“So you can do what?” she asked nervously.
Christ. I rubbed a hand over my face. “Get us out of here, for one.”
“And two?” she persisted.
“I’m going to make a few calls.”
She sighed and a hint of the Layna I knew surfaced. “When this is all over, I want a honeymoon redo.”
“Copy that.”
Her hands went to her hips. “I’m not one of your subordinate Marines you can boss around.”
“No, you definitely are not.” I would’ve already had clothes.
“Redo,” she snapped.
I fought a smile and lost. “Clothes. And bring me your cell phone.” It would guarantee one of my calls would get answered.
“How do you know I left my cell phone on the boat?”
“I know everything about—”
She held her hand up. “You know what? Forget it. Forget I asked.”
She went to the cabin and I turned the engines back over. I took a second to use the thermal imager to scan the water around us but I didn’t see anyone.
“What is that?” She came back up and handed me shorts and a t-shirt.
I held it out to her. “Thermal imager.”
She looked through it. “Wow. This really works. Now I know why you want to partner with André.” She set the imager down. “You get all the cool toys.”
I pulled my clothes on and swung the Cobalt to the northeast. “That’s one reason.” I plugged the coordinates of Neil’s place into the GPS.
“What are the other reasons?”
“Money, adrenaline, and purpose.” I altered our course slightly.
“We have a lot of money.”
“You have a lot,” I corrected. I had some.
“We’re married, Blaze.”
I grabbed her chin and planted a quick kiss. “I know. Thank you.”
She flushed. “You’re welcome.” Then she cleared her throat. “So, you don’t need money.”
She had a bank account with millions, not me. I wasn’t about to be a kept man. “You’re right. I don’t.”
She relaxed for a second then sighed. “That didn’t mean what I thought it did.”
I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her in close. “I’m a man, baby.” If she didn’t understand it now, then she never would.
She snuggled into me. “I get it.”
“I gotta make a few phone calls. Take over?”
“I know what you’re doing.” Her hands smoothed across my abs and my dick stirred.
“Yeah, what’s that?” I thought about cutting the engines and taking her below.
“Keeping me busy while you make your calls.”
I touched the tip of her nose and stepped away from the helm. “Follow the GPS, don’t go off course and you’ll do great. I’ll be back in a few.”
“I know how to drive a boat.”
I looked over my shoulder. The wind in her hair, the determination on her gorgeous face, my wife took my breath away. “I know all about what you can drive.” I went below before I changed my mind about dropping anchor and made my first call.
The phone rang five times before it was picked up.
“No other clients call me in the middle of the night, Layna.”
Fucking asshole. “It’s not Layna.”
Barrett cleared his throat. “Johnson.”
“We’ve got a situation.”
“Thus the phone call. What’s going on?”
“An attempt was made on Layna’s life tonight.”
“What?”
“There was a sniper and two hired guns. The sniper and one of the guns disappeared, but the third one is in custody.” Despite client confidentiality, I wasn’t about to tell him what happened to the sniper and the asshole on the boat. “We need to link him back to Maldonado, legally.”
“Jesus. Because?”
“Because he was hired by Maldonado. He’s the one who issued the hit.”
“You’re certain it was him?”
Fuckhead. “Yes.”
Barrett sighed. “You’re not giving me much to work with. Maldonado will deny all knowledge. The state’s attorney will have nothing to go on and then it’ll be dead in the water.”
“Call Luna. His men have the hired gun. They’ll make him talk.”
“All right. I’ll do my best but no promises. Where can I reach you?”
“You can’t. I’ll call you in a few days.”
Barrett dropped the attitude and his voice turned human. “She okay?”
“Yeah.”
“I know you’re trained but I have to ask because I feel responsible. Can you keep her safe for now?”
I hated the guy. I hated any man who looked at Layna but I respected him for feeling responsible for his client. “She’s safe.” I’d die before I let something happen to her.
Barrett exhaled. “Okay. Talk to you in a few days.”
“One last thing, the hotel we were staying at was shot up. André’s men covered our tracks. The Coast Guard won’t find the sniper or the other hired gun but there’ll still be questions. Can you run interference with the authorities for us for a few days? We weren’t registered under our names but I suspect they’ll figure out soon enough we were there.”
“You’ll have to give statements eventually.”
“We will, once I know it’s safe for her to surface.”
“As your counsel, I have to advise you not to take matters into your own hands. I know what you and your Marine buddies are capable of, but don’t do it. Give me a little
time to make something stick to Maldonado.”
“Do what you have to do.” I wasn’t waiting.
“Jesus, Blaze.” Barrett lost the controlled edge to his voice. “You know this will point back to her. Don’t be stupid. This is going to be bad for both of you. Don’t put her in that situation.”
“I didn’t put my wife in any situation.” His interest in Layna was really starting to piss me off. “Do your job, I’ll do mine.”
He sighed. “Fine. Tell Layna the paperwork she asked me for is complete.”
I momentarily stilled. “What paperwork?”
“Ask her.” Barrett hung up.
I stared at the phone a few seconds before I dialed André.
“We good?” I asked as soon as he answered.
“Hold on.” I heard muffled voices then it got quieter. “Yeah, we’re good for now. Where are you?”
“Southeast, open waters, but I’m swinging back north and heading up to Neil’s place in Key Largo. What happened with the Coast Guard?”
“The usual, they demanded answers. I bought us a little time by handing over the one guy still alive.”
“Was he talking?”
“Oh, he was talking all right.” André snorted. “Guess he wasn’t too fond of Tyler and Collin.”
“He know anything?”
“Not that he claims. Said he was picked up in Miami in a bar and offered cash by a guy he’d never met and never saw again. Got transported to Key West where some other guy put him and the asshole in the white t-shirt on a boat, gave them guns and told them to go hunting on Sunset Key. They had a picture of Layna but that was it.”
“Was the guy who put him on the boat the sniper? Did he describe him?”
“Not unless the sniper aged backwards forty years before he got hit.”
“The contact was an old guy?”
“Yeah. Mr. Mangroves said he was in his sixties, white guy, no accent, but rode hard with lots of tattoos.”
What the fuck? Maldonado didn’t work with Caucasians. He stuck to Cartel assholes and they were always young and stupid. What the hell was going on?
André didn’t wait for me to reply. “I can hear you thinking. I thought the same thing, but I got nothing. I don’t know what Maldonado’s playing at or who he has in his back pocket. All I got was that Mr. Mangroves said Grandpa drove off on a motorcycle after he gave them the boat.”
Impossible End (Unchecked Book 3) Page 3
