“They promised to give us a fair chance,” she muttered, trying to suck up some courage. “Where are you hurt?”
Bleeding out. Zulu’s words came back to her. She shuddered, trying not to panic, realizing how much she couldn’t stand to lose Ty.
“My left calf. No place vital. Just a flesh wound.”
Just a flesh wound. She pictured him gritting his teeth against the pain.
“Did the bullet pass through?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you bleeding?”
“Yeah.”
“Badly?”
“I have my right shin pressed up against it. It’s sticky with blood, but I’ve got good pressure on it now.” He squeezed her hand.
She poked her head around the rock, trying to get a look at him, but the dark was so deep she couldn’t even see the rock in front of her face.
“Where’s the SD card you stole from me?” Ty sounded as if speaking took effort, but his tone was casual, normal, almost reassuring. His mother was the only other person who knew him well enough to detect the edge of hurt and anger in it.
Treflee didn’t bother with denial. What was the point? “In my hair, safely tucked into my braid.”
“Good thinking.”
A wave rolled in, soaking Treflee’s taffeta flip-flops, splashing and stinging the scrapes on her legs like a brush with nettles. Ty stiffened and squeezed her hand. Hard. She pictured him wincing.
“Salt water,” he said tightly. “We’re going to have to get moving. You know what they say about pouring salt in a wound.”
He was talking about more than his bullet wound. His tone was clear—he was talking about her.
“I was going to put it back. Ty, you have to believe me,” she pleaded, fighting back tears of fear and frustration. “I wanted to see this thing that’s going to save the world. I wanted to know for sure I was making the right choice by giving us a second chance. I was just turning to come back in when Bang jumped me.”
“Yeah, bang! That’s how it felt to me, too.”
The wave rolled out. Ty relaxed the grip on her hand. She kept squeezing. His voice and touch were the only things keeping her sane in the black void. If she let go, she’d lose everything.
“Orders be damned, when we get out of here, I’m giving you that divorce. Who am I to fight the tide?”
“Orders?” She was confused. “What orders?”
Ty laughed weakly and humorlessly. “Emmett’s. Not to divorce. To win you back.”
Treflee felt as if she’d just taken that shot, but to her heart. “Orders? That’s what that was at the waterfall? Orders?”
He didn’t answer.
“Ty!”
“Whatever you want to believe, baby.”
No, she didn’t believe it. Yes, she believed the imperious Emmett would order Ty not to divorce. The man had gall. An ex-spouse was a dangerous loose end. She just hadn’t really thought about it before. But no, she didn’t believe the waterfall was about orders. Or the pearls. She couldn’t believe it or she’d lose it right here and lie down to drown.
Ty was angry. Trying to hurt her. Not that she blamed him. She’d think about it later.
“Can you stand up straight?” she asked him.
He inhaled deeply. “Yeah.”
“And still keep pressure against the wound?”
“I’ll have to.”
Somehow, with a lot of hand-holding and maneuvering, they managed to return to the starting point, which took the pressure off her shoulder. From the relative slack in the cuffs between them, Treflee assumed Ty was leaning heavily on the rock.
“Zulu was right. This is porous rock. There should be plenty of footholds,” Ty said. “We just have to find them.”
His hand felt clammy in hers.
“How are you going to climb with one leg pressed against the other?”
“I’ll use my arms. I have plenty of upper-body strength. The legs will just be for balance. What kind of shoes are you wearing?”
She tried to lighten the mood with a little humor. “Is that a dirty question? What kind of shoes are you wearing?”
“Slightly soaked athletic shoes with good treads.” Ordinarily, he would have laughed and flirted back, but instead he remained serious. “Either one of us slips, the other goes down, too. Look how I brought you down when Zu shot me. Shoes?”
“Taffeta wedding flip-flops, size seven, hot pink, rubber bottoms, woven mat insole.”
“Kick them off. You’ll do better barefoot using your toes to grip.”
“If I have any toes left when we’re done. Pumice stones are great for pedicures, but they’re coarse and razor-blade sharp. This rock will eat my feet up.” Her arms, chest, legs, and stomach had already been scraped and rubbed raw in places.
“You seriously think you can climb in flip-flops?”
“Why not? I dance in six-inch heels.”
He sighed so loudly, she heard it over the surf.
She distracted him. “You’ve been in this kind of situation before?” She both wanted to know and didn’t.
“Tighter.”
She found that bit of intelligence only slightly reassuring. “Handcuffed to whom?”
“No one you need to know about.”
Fair enough.
“We’re going to have go by feel,” he said. “This rock formation is only about ten feet tall. Reach up and see if you can feel a grip a couple of feet up.”
They worked in silence, reaching, grasping, patting down a piece of rock that would just as soon cut them to ribbons as hoist them to freedom. They played ring-around-the-rosy, circling the rock. By the time they found a suitable first jump-up point, the waves were to Treflee’s calves and stung every open scrape and cut. The water no longer receded completely, but merely ebbed and flowed, flowing higher each time.
“On the count of three,” Ty said.
And then they were up, hanging on by sheer will and fear. She felt the tremble in Ty’s arms as they hung just feet off the ground on the rock face.
“You okay?” she asked him.
“A little light-headed.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Give me a minute.”
She clenched his hand. For him to admit even the slightest weakness was really something. It scared her. She needed the reassurance of his touch. “I’ve got you.” She squeezed his hand so tightly, she nearly lost feeling in her fingers.
She thought he grunted, or maybe it was a lame attempt at a laugh. He didn’t believe she’d be able to hold him up. Neither did she, but she was trying to be supportive and encouraging. “Just don’t faint on me. I’m not good with the Florence Nightingale thing.” She didn’t mean to sound irritated. It just came through when she was worried.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Talk to me.” She had to keep him focused and conscious. “Or I’ll go mad. The authorities have it all wrong. Chinese water torture is not a slow steady drip on the forehead, but the constant roar of the surf as an incoming tide threatens to drown you.” She searched for her next grip as she spoke, struggling with her flip-flops to keep from slipping back into the water.
Another wave lapped against the rock, splashing them with stinging salt spray. Treflee’s heart raced. Of all the ways she’d ever imagined dying, drowning in a Hawaiian cave hadn’t even crossed her mind. It was suddenly her least favorite choice. Right below shark attack.
“So this thing in my hair, I hope it’s waterproof? It’s certainly not the prettiest hair accessory I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, yeah. And hardened. And definitely the most expensive thing you’ve ever worn in your hair. But let’s try not to put it to the test. Just keep it above water anyway, shall we?”
“That’s the plan. Good to know it has some redeeming qualities.”
“Tref, my fingers are tingling. Ease up on them a bit?”
She relaxed her hold. Slightly.
“I’ve found another grip we can use.” He guided her hand to it, pressing her fin
gers into the crevice.
The teamwork and the gentle touch of his hand reminded her of better times. A lump welled in her throat.
“On my count,” he said. “One … two … three.”
As she grabbed the handhold and pushed with her feet, her taffeta flip-flops slipped on the wet rock.
Ty caught her wrist and arrested her fall.
“Darn flip-flops.” Heart pounding above the surf, she kicked them into the water.
“Did you just lose your shoes?”
“Oh, shut up,” she said. That was no way to behave after he’d just saved her. “Sorry. You were right.”
“Nice to hear you admit it. Let’s try again.”
And they were up another level. She hung on by her toes. She had no idea how Ty hung on with his one good leg. The rock was tapering off. There was play in their arms. They had to hug the rock, rather than stretch around it.
“This thing feels like Everest,” she said. “Any idea how much farther to the top?”
“Four feet or so, I’d guess.”
“Four feet!” She clunked her head against the rock.
“Hey, don’t give up. We just have to climb high enough to reach up and throw one pair of arms over. Then we can grab the key, unlock ourselves, and get out of here. The next handhold should get us there.”
She had a moment of panic. “Do you even remember where the opening is?” With all the moving around the rock, she’d lost her bearings.
“Yeah, don’t you?”
He knows I don’t. “Don’t be snide. You must be feeling better.”
“It’ll be sunrise soon. The light will guide us to the opening. If that fails, there’s always the pull of the tide.”
“Sunrise! But that’s high tide.” She went cold. “We’ll never make it. We’ll drown before then.”
He started laughing. Really laughing. “Is that why you’ve been plowing along so quickly?”
“What?”
“This isn’t the Bay of Fundy.”
“No, this isn’t fundy at all,” she said, holding on to her irritation and trying not to slip off the rock.
“Tref, this is Hawaii. Unlike Fundy in Maine, Hawaiian tide surges are so small, you barely notice whether the tide’s in or out. We’re talking two-foot tides max.”
“Then we’re in no danger?”
“You mean other than I might bleed out and Zulu, Bang, and Cong will be discovering any minute now that you’ve duped them and will be back to torture the truth out of you?”
Bleed out. There were those words again.
“If Carrie and company haven’t scared them off or apprehended them already.”
“What?” he said.
“Why do you think I sent them to the van? Carrie and the girls are on the lookout for Kane. If they see three goons prowling around, they’ll get them.”
“They don’t have their guns,” he said.
“They’ll think of something.” She paused.
“Good point,” he said. “I guess there’s no hurry, then.” Could he sound any more cynical?
“Except that I don’t want to be chained to a bloodless dead man.”
“Yeah, and being chained to this live one all these years has been so much fun.”
Her heart sank. He hadn’t forgiven her. All this happy chatter had made her hopeful. Guess she shouldn’t tell him she wasn’t as confident as she sounded about Carrie and the girls.
They hoisted themselves up.
“If we stretch, I think we can reach the top and search for the key,” he said.
“Are we reaching with your right or mine?”
“You mean who gets the key?”
They were both right-handed. Whoever wielded the key ruled and did the unlocking.
Treflee gave him this one. “You have more handcuff experience.”
“My right, then.”
Ty found the key first. Treflee felt his hand clamp around it.
“Got it!” His voice rang with the thrill of victory. “Now all we have to do is swing one set of arms over the rock and maintain our balance while I unlock us.”
“In the dark,” she said, “don’t forget that part.”
Just then, as if to make a liar out of her, a glimmer of pearlescent predawn light lit up the cave opening.
She’d never seen a more beautiful predawn in her life, even if her view of it was limited. “Okay, I was wrong. Let there be light!”
Ty sounded considerably less delighted. “I was joking about having all the time in the world.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“We just lost the cover of darkness.” Ty pulled himself up on the rock. “As we toss our arms over, clamp on tightly with your legs.”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “I have leg clamping down to a science.” She’d fastened them around him enough times for him to know that.
He got her meaning, looked away, unmoved by her lame attempt at flirtation, and got on with business. By the time they got their arms over their minivolcano, enough light shone in to make the keyholes in the cuffs visible.
Clinging to the rocks like birds on a perch, they played a game of Operation with the key. Aim, jab, miss, buzz, sorry, play again!
“Aim off today?” Treflee said. Goading Ty frequently spurred him to victory.
“My aim’s fine. You’re moving.” He stuffed the key into the lock in Treflee’s cuff.
He stilled, his hand poised on the key.
She rattled the cuffs, shooting him an impatient look. “To the victor go the spoils.”
He stared at her, unblinking. “Tell me one thing first. When did you stop loving me?”
Treflee stared at him, stunned by his direct-hit question and the pain in his eyes. “I never stopped loving you.”
He studied her, looking as if he wished he had a dose of truth serum on him. He didn’t trust anyone to tell the truth. Not even her. Maybe especially her. She blamed Langley. They’d taught him distrust. Though she had to admit she hadn’t helped things. She never should have taken that stupid device that was tucked in her braid.
“So what is this divorce business, then? You can’t live with me?” He sounded resigned.
Or without you, she wanted to say, but didn’t.
“The last time I was gone something changed,” he said softly. “What was it? Another guy?”
“No!”
He sighed. “Then what did I do?”
“Nothing.”
He stared at her so hard, she felt dizzy, as if she were losing her grip on everything.
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” The resignation and pain in his voice played at her heart. “I was supposed to do something, but I didn’t. What was it, Tref?”
She swallowed hard. He deserved to know. But she couldn’t look him in the eye. She stared at the waves below her instead. “I got pregnant and lost our baby. You weren’t there.”
“Baby?” His shock sounded genuine. “We hadn’t decided to have kids. You got pregnant without telling me?”
“It was an accident.” She pleaded with him.
“How could you keep something like that from me? I’m your husband. I had a right to know, Tref.” He spat the words out.
“I wanted to.” She caught his wrist. “I wanted to tell you in person. Not in a text or a phone call. But you didn’t come back in time. I miscarried and then there was no point. I had this great, big hole in my life where the baby should have been. And you refused to consider having another one.”
“I needed time to think. A baby’s a huge liability. For any spy.” He glared at her with hurt in his eyes. “Think kidnapping and blackmail.” He shook her hand off. “How could I help you? I had no idea what you were going through. How could I?”
She shrugged. She had no answer for him. She should have told him.
He shook his head. “To hell with it, Tref.” He sounded hurt and angry again. “To freedom.” He turned the key.
Her cuff opened. Her hand fell free of
his. She clutched the rock, trying to keep her balance now that they were no longer attached on one side.
“There’s one more thing I should tell you,” Ty said. “Zulu isn’t going to let us simply walk out of this cave. He’s got a guard posted at the entrance. That guard will either pick us off or follow us, hoping we’ll lead him to the device. Then he’ll kill us. So don’t get any ideas about swimming out of here until we make a plan.”
He thrust the key at her. “Take it and turn me loose.”
Great! Danger, danger, hurt, and more danger!
Her hand shook as she lunged the key toward the keyhole on the second pair of cuffs, emotion blinding her.
The whir of a boat motor startled her.
Ty looked over his shoulder, moving just at the wrong time.
The key fell into the churning two-foot-deep waters below.
CHAPTER TWENTY
A man sat silhouetted in a speedboat at the mouth of the cave. He had a gun trained on them.
“Jump!” Treflee screamed. She propelled herself off the outcropping into the swirling, shallow waters below, taking Ty down with her.
They plunged into the waves stomachs first. The stinging slap of water stole her breath. An instant later, the sandy bottom banged out what little air she had left. Dragging Ty’s arm with her, she popped to a sit on her knees, gasping for air in the salt spray and praying the gunman had bad aim. There wasn’t three feet of water to dive into and avoid taking a bullet.
Next to her, Ty came up sputtering and wiping the hair out of his eyes. “Damn it, Tref! Learn to recognize the cavalry.” He clenched his teeth and fists. “This salt water stings like hell!”
He lifted his arm and waved to the guy in the boat. “Greg! Over here.”
Greg? She studied the man. No longer under the influence of gun-induced panic, she easily recognized him and felt silly. This was why she wasn’t the spy.
Greg waved back. “Hey, nice belly flop. Very impressive splash. I give it a nine. Next time try it in deeper water.” He looked like he was laughing. “I can’t come in any farther. I’ll run adrift. I’ll wait for you here. Are you hurt? Can you make it out? Should I throw you a life ring?”
Ty glanced at Treflee.
“I’m good,” she said.
He yelled back to Greg. “Yeah, we can make it.” He turned to Treflee and stared at her braid. “How wet’s my SDXC card? Still got it?”
The Spy Who Left Me: An Agent Ex Novel Page 25
