by Diana Duncan
Holding her breath, she watched Peter test the ropes. Gabe's clenched fists didn't give away their secret.
Peter tied her to the other chair, then strolled to the door. "I'll be back. Don't go away." The door slammed behind him.
"Gabe, I'm sorry. This is all my fault."
His gaze held warm admiration. "You came after me, even though you're terrified of the water. That took major guts, Houdini."
"I'd walk barefoot into hell for you," she whispered. "Maybe now you'll believe me."
"Nobody has ever—" He swallowed hard. "When we get out of here, we need to talk about last night. For now, focus on escape."
Her heart stuttered. A bud of hope blossomed inside her. She and Gabe might have a future. If only they could get safely away. "Will that file work?"
He chuckled dryly. "Weakening this rope is gonna take a while, but you've tilted the odds in our favor, Houdini."
Peter sauntered in beside Vic, who carried an unconscious Leo over his shoulder. Peter rubbed the back of his neck. "Damn it, Vic, I've got a headache clear to my toenails. You were supposed to give me a convincing-looking tap, not cave in my skull."
Vic shrugged. Leaving a bound Leo on the floor, they left.
"Leo's been cradling an asp in his bosom," Gabe drawled.
"How can you be flippant at a time like this?" But that was his way. He covered deeper, dark emotions with humor. Underneath, he was probably as scared as she was. Now there was a comforting thought.
He arched a brow. "It would hardly help if I freaked and starting screaming, 'we're all gonna die.'"
She shuddered under a sharp onslaught of fear. "Are we?"
His gaze caught and held her. His warm regard stroked her like a caress, melting away some of her fright. "Not if I have a say. Especially not now. Not when I finally—" He cleared his throat and looked away.
The bud of hope blossomed into a glorious bouquet. "What, Gabe?" she whispered.
Uncertainty creased his forehead. "I … I have some stuff to tell you." He swallowed again. "I don't know how you'll feel about me afterward, but—" He heaved an exasperated sigh. "Oh, hell! Wrong time, wrong place. It's complicated, and we can't get into it now."
Her stomach flip-flopped. He was finally going to open up! "Okay, I'll take a rain check. But no matter what you have to say, nothing will change the way I feel about you." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Back to the situation at hand. I thought you knocked out Leo and Vic."
"The guy must have a cast-iron skull under that buzz cut."
A loud clank sounded from outside, then a rumble, and the engine throbbed to life. A giant chain scraped the hull, creaking upward, then the swaying increased. She stiffened. "What's happening?"
"They're moving the ship." He shot her a sharp glance. "Don't go ballistic on me, Tessie. Hang in there."
"I w-won't." She forced her rigid muscles to relax. "I'm focusing."
Gabe smiled encouragingly. "That's my girl."
The possessive endearment sent a warm flood of reassurance through her. He was so strong, so in control. So capable. Surely they'd get out of this. She watched him and concentrated on not panicking.
His shoulders and biceps bunched as he worked the file against his ropes. He looked up, smiling. "Are you humming?"
"Sorry. Habit."
"What song?"
Her cheeks heated as she realized what she'd been murmuring. "I Can't Help Falling In Love With You."
He cocked his head, his smile widening into a grin. "Sing out. Might help pass the time."
Leo moaned several times but didn't regain consciousness. She'd nearly reached the end of her Elvis repertoire when the engines stopped. The chain rattled, screeched, and a huge splash rocked the ship.
Gabe's head jerked up. "They've dropped anchor."
"How are your ropes?"
He grimaced. "Fraying, but not enough to break free yet."
"What do you think they're going to do to us?"
He didn't quite meet her gaze. Not a good sign. "If we're lucky, they only want what I took from Leo's office." Her stomach bottomed out. He didn't say what would happen if they weren't lucky. He didn't have to.
The door opened and Vic barged inside, followed by Peter. "Day of reckoning, ladies and gents." Peter untied Tessa's ankles. Leaving her wrists bound behind her, he hauled her to her feet. He again wrapped his arm around her neck, the gun barrel pressed to her temple. "You don't want me to put a bullet in this lovely lady's brain, Val, so you'll behave, right?"
Gabe shot a murderous glance at Peter, but nodded.
Vic freed Gabe's feet, leaving his wrists bound behind him, and slung Leo over his massive shoulder. Shoving a gun in Gabe's spine, Vic followed him out the door. Peter tugged her along behind.
On deck, one sight of the lashing waves spiked choking panic into her throat. She couldn't breathe, couldn't get enough air.
"Tessie," Gabe's soft voice commanded. "Look at me."
She ripped her gaze from the dark water and met his tender smile.
"Keep cool, sweetheart," he murmured. "C'mon, you've done great so far. I need you to stay in control."
She gulped, forcibly swallowing down her fear. Losing her head could get them both killed.
Vic slammed Gabe against the cabin wall. The fresh air revived Leo, and Vic shoved him next to Gabe.
Peter dragged her to the rail. Terror again seized her, and she trembled. He shook his head. "The ocean always did terrorize you, didn't it? Don't worry, you'll soon be out of your misery." He pursed his lips. "Who would like to go first?" Peter pointed the gun at Gabe.
Tessa's pulse crashed into a frantic rhythm.
Peter slowly swung the gun toward Leo. "Wait. Leo, you know Vic, aka officer Mac Marshall, Riverside PD. But with Carla using a phony last name, you didn't know she was his baby sister. He's a little ticked that you offed her. I'm not happy about it myself. She was great in the sack, and I was quite fond of her. But family has priority."
Without any warning, Vic put his gun to Leo's forehead and pulled the trigger.
Tessa screamed. Desperately trying not to retch, she slammed her eyes shut, trying to block the nightmare image. Her hope that Peter couldn't actually hurt anyone died along with Leo.
There was an ominous dragging sound, then a loud splash. She opened her eyes to see Gabe standing alone, Leo's gory remains staining the bulkhead beside him. Was Gabe next? Agony pierced her chest. How close was he to breaking the ropes? His stony expression didn't give any clues. She couldn't stand here and watch him die. Her mind whirled.
"Now you understand we're serious," Peter said, his voice horribly calm and even. He waved the gun at Gabe. "You must realize by now the copies I gave you were bogus. Completely useless. How much do you know?"
Gabe's eyes narrowed. "I have enough real evidence to put you away for life. You kill us and it gets sent to the D.A."
"A predictably clichéd response. Doesn't matter what you've got, I've covered my tracks. Dearly departed Leo will get the blame for everything." Peter threw her a smarmy smile. "Don't go anywhere, Tessa. Not that you could." Confident that her phobia would keep her paralyzed, he strolled to Gabe's side. Vic lumbered over to join him. The three men stared each other down.
She broke out in a cold sweat. Frantic, she wrenched her wrists back and forth. The rope bit through the makeshift bandages into her already shredded skin, but she ignored the pain.
Peter pointed his gun at Gabe's head. "How about it, Cuz?"
Gabe arched a mocking brow.
Vic drove his meaty fist into Gabe's stomach. Grunting, Gabe doubled over. Tessa's muscles contracted and a sympathetic ache streaked through her abdomen.
Peter yanked Gabe upright by his hair. "Be reasonable. Vic is a maestro. We can keep you alive for days, but you'll long for death. You'll spill your guts. They always do."
"Better men than you have tried," Gabe gasped out. "Even if I sang—which I won't—you'll kill me anyway."
"True.
But your death will be fast and merciful."
"Go to h—"
Vic again smashed his fist into Gabe's stomach. Tessa's nails dug into her palms. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, and tasted blood.
"Hold on." Peter raised his hand. "Cousin here thinks he's a tough guy. We'll waste our time and energy beating on him all day." He turned a calculating look on her. "Perhaps there's a quicker, less tiresome method. I wonder…"
Her heart lurched. They'd never break Gabe. He'd take what they dished out, even if it brought a slow, painful death. And they knew it. They were going to kill him.
Peter turned back and pointed his gun at Gabe's head. "Maybe you're not afraid to die, but how do you feel knowing Tessa is going to watch me spatter your brains all over the wall? We don't need you. She's been in on it all along. We'll simply get our information from her. It will be much less … arduous."
"She doesn't know squat. Let her go." The pulse in Gabe's throat hammered and the muscles in his shoulders and arms bulged as he strained to break free. How much longer? What if the rope didn't break?
"If you kill him, Peter, I won't tell you a thing," she vowed.
He laughed. "Oh, you'll tell me. Before Vic and I are done, you'll tell me everything." He watched Gabe closely. "Too bad you won't be able to join us. The three of us are going to have quite a party."
Every muscle in Gabe's body bunched, and his eyes glittered with fury. He snarled. "You hurt her and there's nowhere you can hide. I'll find you if I have to follow you into hell."
She didn't care about Peter's threats against her. Nothing they did would be worse than seeing Gabe die. She glanced over the rail into the deep green water. She'd never noticed before how much the emerald waves resembled Gabe's eyes.
"It's a date. You go first." Peter drew back the hammer, the click obscenely loud in the quiet morning.
She swiveled back to look at Gabe. His gaze held hers, his expression oddly wistful. His eyes conveyed yearning, sorrow and bone-deep regret.
She wouldn't just stand here and watch him die! Her gaze spun wildly over the deck. Suddenly, she knew exactly what to do. Deadly calm settled over her, cloaking her in warmth.
She looked at Gabe one final time, drinking in his face. Tucked the memory deep in her heart. No regrets. She stared into his eyes, telling him without words. I love you. The silent message arced between them.
Peter and Vic were watching Gabe, and didn't see her hoist herself onto the rail. For a sickening heartbeat, she stared over her shoulder into the roiling water.
Gabe's eyes darkened in horror as he realized her intent. He lunged. "No!"
She narrowed her focus to the huge metal crane in front of her and kicked with all her might. The bar slammed into Peter's back. He hurtled to the deck, his shot going wild.
She'd done what she could for Gabe. The rest was up to him. She managed a triumphant smile at him as the momentum threw her backward over the rail.
"Tessa!" His anguished cry rang in her ears.
Then the icy water swallowed her alive.
* * *
Chapter 18
« ^ »
A white-hot flash exploded inside Gabe's head, burning out every thought except one. Save Tessa!
Roaring, he tore apart the ropes shackling his wrists and whirled into a roundhouse kick that slammed into Vic's head. Vic staggered forward at the same time Peter stumbled to his feet, drunkenly waving the gun. Gabe shoved Vic into Peter. Peter fired off another shot, which hit Vic in the chest. Vic crumpled, and Gabe leapt over his body. Grabbing Peter's arm, Gabe jerked it back, then down across his upraised knee. The bone snapped like a dry twig, and he shrieked. Gabe picked him up and threw him over the side. He'd yanked off both shoes before he heard the splash.
He dived over the rail, ignoring the icy shock. Plunging deep, he searched the murky water for a glimpse of Tessa. With her hands tied, she would have sunk like an anchor. He swam until his lungs begged for air. Rocketing to the surface, he gulped in three breaths, dived again.
Over and over, he dived. His skin turned numb from the cold, his chest burned and his arms and legs ached like lead weights. But he continued the frantic search. He'd known the instant he'd seen her tied up in the bowels of the ship that she'd come to help him. And why. He'd decided then and there that if she could face her worst nightmare for him, he sure as hell could meet her halfway. He'd been ready to reach out, only to have her snatched from his grasp.
His mind screaming that she had been under too long, his lungs screaming from lack of air, he hit the surface, gasped in a huge breath, and again dived into the dark ocean, replacing his desperation and terror with resolve. By damn, he wasn't having it! Either he was coming back with her, or he wasn't coming back.
Finally, he spotted a blur of white far below—her sweater! He swam toward her. At the sight of her closed eyes and deathly pallor, his racing heart nearly burst from his chest. He grasped her limp, unresponsive body under the arms and dragged her to the surface. Quickly, he swam to the ship.
Throwing her over his shoulder, he climbed the ladder. He lowered her to the deck and put his cheek next to her nose. She wasn't breathing. His fingers pressed into the icy skin at her throat. No pulse.
Dark horror clawed at the edge of his mind, threatening to tear away his reason. He ruthlessly shoved his clamoring emotions down. If he lost it, Tessie would die. He forced himself to view her crumpled body as nothing more than a training mannequin as he tore the ropes off her wrists.
On automatic pilot now, he tilted her head back, pinched her nose and gave her his breath. He began chest compressions, counting until he reached fifteen, gave her more breaths. He repeated, pausing to check her pupils. They were dilated—bad, but reacted to light—good. Again, he pressed his fingers to her ice-cold neck. No pulse.
He repeated the CPR cycle, checked again. Nothing. "Come on, baby!" he muttered. More breaths, more chest compressions. His arms trembled and his head spun. Exhausted from the search, he was also shivering violently from his too-long immersion in the frigid Pacific. But he wasn't about to give up on her.
Breaths, compressions, check pupils, feel for pulse. Over and over. Somewhere along the way he started to shout. "Breathe, Tessa! Come on, sweetheart, breathe, please!"
More breaths, more compressions. No pulse.
"Damn it," he roared. "Don't you leave me!" Beyond reason, he grabbed her shoulders and shook her roughly.
She coughed, then wheezed in a slow, shuddery breath. Relief threatened to render him weak and useless, and he shut off his feelings completely, as he'd been trained to do in these situations. He couldn't help her if he didn't stay rational. He touched trembling fingertips to her throat and counted. Her pulse was thready, barely there. She was still unconscious.
He tore into the cabin to use the radio, then ransacked the room to locate a blanket and flare gun. He raced back to Tessa and checked her pulse. Her heart had stopped again.
He fired off the flare. He restarted the breathing and compressions, but couldn't get a steady heartbeat. He was doggedly performing CPR when the chopper arrived. As the aircraft hovered overhead, a medic dropped onto the deck beside him.
"I can't get her stabilized," he yelled over the rotors.
The medic motioned upward, and a woman landed on deck. Gabe continued compressions while the woman slid a ventilator tube down Tessa's throat. The man ripped open Tessa's blouse. He placed defibrillator paddles on her chest. "Clear!"
Gabe raised his hands. Tessa's body arched as the electric current charged through her body. The second the paddles lifted, he searched for a pulse. Damn it. "Nothing!"
They shocked Tessa twice more before finally establishing a weak heartbeat, then loaded her into the chopper. The medics stripped off her wet clothes and wrapped her in blankets. Refusing a blanket for himself, Gabe focused his entire being on Tessa, silently willing her to live. Her core temperature was so cold, the thermometer didn't register a reading. She flatlined twice. Twice
the medics shocked her back to life. The twenty-minute flight lasted an eternity.
Seconds after the chopper touched down, Tessa was placed on a stretcher and hurtled toward the emergency room. When they reached the E.R., a gray-haired doctor took one look at her and turned to Gabe. The doctor's grim face spoke volumes. "You family?"
His pulse jackhammered. Unable to speak, he shook his head.
"Get her family here. In a hurry."
A nurse slammed the doors in Gabe's face. He forced his leaden feet to the phone where he managed to call Melody. He trudged into the packed waiting room, to two vacant seats under a wide bank of windows, and collapsed into a chair. He rested his elbows on his knees. Covering his face with his hands, he began to shake. No matter how hard he willed it, he couldn't stop.
He wasn't sure how much time passed before a small, warm hand touched his bare shoulder.
"Val?"
He looked up wearily and saw Melody bent over him. "The name is Gabe Colton. I'm FBI," he rasped. "Sit down." Wracked with violent tremors, he stared fixedly at the wall as he told her everything.
When he finished, Mel remained silent. Gabe didn't dare look at her. His control teetered on a razor edge. If she fell apart, he'd break down like a baby.
Her hand patted his shoulder again. "I'll be right back."
He didn't really care. A distant part of his mind recognized the symptoms of adrenaline crash. He'd trained himself to function normally when the adrenaline overload dropped, but this time he couldn't pull himself together.
He didn't know how many minutes ticked past before Mel returned. She grabbed his unresisting hand and tugged him up. Body aching, mind numb, he let her lead him down the hall and through a door. She gently touched his bruised ribs. "Does this hurt?"
He shook his head.
"I don't suppose you'd see a doctor." He shook his head again and she sighed. "I didn't figure." She slipped a shirt on over his head and worked his arms through the short sleeves.
When she slid down the zipper on his jeans, he snapped back to reality. "Hey!" Gabe jerked her hands off his fly. Dazed, he stared at the porcelain urinals lining the wall. "Are we in the head? Are you taking off my pants?"
