McKenzie inhales sharply, but she doesn’t move. I continue, my voice flat as I relay the rest of the story.
“He took me to some crumbling shack of a building and showed them to me. It was hell seeing them in a place like that. Maggie was three, and her eyes lit up when she saw me, but Sarah stopped her from running to me.” I scrape a hand over my face. “As long as I live, I will never forget the look in Sarah’s eyes. I wanted to assure her I would save her and Maggie, but I couldn’t say anything. I was handcuffed with a gun sticking into my ribs.
“Dominguez dragged me back to the cement building that was apparently his temporary headquarters, uncuffed me, poured me a shot of tequila, and told me what he wanted. He offered me fifty thousand dollars to take out Victor Sanchez, who went by the name of El Gato and was starting to make inroads in the drug trade business, taking a lot of business from Dominguez. He said if I’d come work for him, he’d send my wife and child back home and let them live. If I chose to continue working with the opposition, he’d kill them. It was my choice.”
“What did you do?” McKenzie stiffens in my arms, and I regret tainting her with this story. With the truth about me. But it’s too late to turn back now.
“It was inconceivable. I wasn’t sure if he was serious about me working for him—unfortunately, it’s not unheard of for drug cartels to recruit highly trained military personnel—or if he was just playing cat and mouse with me. But I was a Navy SEAL, and a damn good one, and neither of his options was palatable, so I went with option C. I told him to go to hell and took out the goons guarding him with my bare hands. Of course, El Jefe didn’t stick around to see what was going to happen. But he wasn’t high on my list of priorities at that moment.
“With an AK-47 in each hand, I ran back to the shack, shooting anyone who crossed my path. When I burst through the door, the whole building exploded.” I pause. I still remember every second as if it were yesterday…the chirp of crickets, the air so thick and muggy you could barely breathe, the bluer-than-blue sky overhead. And then the chaos—the explosion, the soot, the soldiers rushing around like tiny ants whose nest had been stepped on. “He’d rigged it with explosives. I was knocked back half a dozen yards, but other than some scrapes and bruises, I was fine. But Sarah and Maggie were dead because of me.” My voice sounds as flat as I felt for years after that happened. Until I met McKenzie. I let out my breath in a deep whoosh. “Now you know why I can’t get close to anyone. I can’t take the chance on anyone being used to get to me again. I killed my own wife and daughter. I have enough blood on my hands to last a lifetime.”
McKenzie keeps her head on my chest, but I can feel her tears, hot and wet against my skin, and they soften something hard and unyielding inside of me, something I thought was dead forever.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
I stroke her hair. The two simple words mean more to me than an entire speech. She knows loss as intimately as I do.
“The hardest thing was knowing I’d killed them.” It’s a confession I’ve never made before, but here on the ocean half a world away from everything real, with a girl I’ll never see again but who, regardless of what happens, will always be an integral part of the fabric of my soul, it suddenly seems imperative that I acknowledge what I did.
McKenzie doesn’t say anything at first. Then she tells me, “At the end of my mom’s life, it was bad. She asked my dad to let her go…to give her enough morphine to kill her so that she didn’t have to suffer any longer. She said if we can treat our pets humanely at the end of their lives, we should treat humans the same.”
She pauses, and I can’t help but think about her father and how he must have felt faced with that decision. If the woman I loved was suffering and begged me to end it and I had the power to do it, would I? Hell yes, I would.
“And?”
“We were all there to say good-bye. When she gave him the go-ahead, he administered the morphine, and we held her as she slipped away. It was heartbreaking, but it was also beautiful. And sacred. But I never felt like my father killed her.”
“That’s different.”
“Not really. Who knows what that drug lord or his men would have done to her? You and my dad may have physically ended the life of someone you loved, but you didn’t kill them.”
I think over what she’s saying. I’m not sure I completely buy it, but it eases my pain a little.
“Thank you,” I say. I tilt her chin up and wipe her tears away with the pad of my thumb. “It’s water under the bridge now. But if I try to shut you out and keep you at a distance, that’s why. It’s not safe to love me.”
“Too late,” she says under her breath.
There’s a faint buzz as the GPS notifies me we’ve reached a point I preprogrammed into the system. I shift her gently off my lap and toss her the T-shirt I’d been so eager to get her out of. “Want to mark another thing off the bucket list?”
She looks at me, puzzled. “What?”
“Tweeting from the equator. That’s on your brother’s list, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she says cautiously. “But when I mentioned it in Coron, you didn’t say anything.”
“I adjusted our route so we could dip down and cut across the equator before heading back up to Sipadan. If my calculations are right, you have about ten minutes to think of something clever to tweet for Liam before we cross. Unless there’s something specific you have in mind.”
I watch her face, wondering if Liam had left any specific instructions as to what she was supposed to tweet…maybe something that will indicate where the guns are hidden. It’s more imperative now than ever that I find those guns. If El Gato doesn’t get the shipment he paid for and he figures out she has the money—and I have no doubt the windfall of unexplained cash is the money El Gato paid Liam—her life will be in even more danger.
She grins at me. “Really?” Her face falls. “But you don’t have wifi.”
“I have a satellite phone. You can log in to your account from it.”
She smacks me in the arm, then shakes her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Think of all the fun we would have missed out on if you’d been on your phone the whole time.” It’s a lie, but I can’t tell her the real reason. Especially not now. As much as I wish I could have a future with McKenzie, I can’t. I have a job to finish, and I won’t put her in jeopardy. I could also die myself, and even if I live through this, she deserves more than a broken man with blood on his hands and a hole where his soul should be. But what we’ve shared is rare and precious, and I don’t want anything to taint it when I’m gone. I want to leave her with something beautiful. I want her to know that what lies within her—the part of her that is powerful and brave and strong—is undeniably real. It seems inadequate after all that she’s given me, but it’s all I have to give her—the memories, the experiences that have helped her uncover her true self, and hopefully, the certainty of my perfect love for her in an imperfect situation.
Suddenly, I realize what’s been bothering me. I’m a bastard. Everyone McKenzie loves has left her, and she’s learned not to count on anyone but herself. And then I come along and take that power from her, teaching her to rely on someone…me. All the while knowing I’m going to disappear from her life just like everyone else.
Chapter Eighteen
McKenzie
I can’t believe that all this time Noah has had internet access! Although I’m not too mad he didn’t tell me. He’s right; if it hadn’t been just the two of us, completely isolated from the outside world, things might have turned out differently. And I wouldn’t trade the last five days for the world.
I watch him as he fiddles with the computer, trying to connect it to the satellite. He is so beautiful, and even more so now that I know who he is on a deeper level. He may think he’s not worthy of love, but I know better. He has a romantic heart under that warrior exterior. And while he may think he doesn’t want to be needed, the way he’s methodically stripped
away my inhibitions so that I will give him my unequivocal trust—not to mention the way it obviously turns him on when I do—says otherwise. For once, I feel like I’ve found someone I can lean on, someone strong enough to be my port in a storm and trustworthy enough to not let me drown.
“There you go. Tweet away.”
I hesitate for a fraction of a second, wondering what on Earth I’m supposed to tweet from the equator. Then, like Liam’s sending me a message from the other side, I know just what to do. I type in Liam’s handle.
“You’re tweeting from your brother’s account?” Noah’s watching over my shoulder.
“If I can guess his password.” My fingers fly over the keyboard, and then Liam’s familiar face pops up on the screen. Damn, I miss him.
“How did you know his password?”
“Lucky guess. I still know Liam better than anyone else.” I can’t help but feel smug.
Never underestimate the power of fuck it, I type and then hit post.
“That’s what he wanted you to tweet from the equator?” He sounds almost disappointed.
I shake my head. “No, he didn’t say specifically, but that was his trademark saying—his motto—and it seems perfect. And now there’s one more item checked off the list.” I turn to Noah, wrapping my arms around his still-naked torso. “Thank you.”
Several hours later, we dock at the marina at Tawua on the island of Borneo in Malaysia. Tomorrow, we’ll dive Sipadan Island, which Noah tells me is the best diving site in the world, although not necessarily for beginners. But I’m not worried. The certification process back in Charleston had been kind of terrifying, and at the time I’d wondered how I’d ever get the courage to actually dive in the ocean. But after getting a taste of snorkeling in the Philippines, now I can’t wait. And there’s no one I feel safer with than Noah. Maybe I’ve changed, or maybe it’s just the way I feel around Noah. It doesn’t matter. I’ve never been happier, or felt more alive.
“We’ll stop here and figure out the best way to get to Sipadan,” Noah informs me as I help him tie the Kairos up at a small marina where half a dozen other boats are similarly docked. He grabs my hand to help me to the pier, but doesn’t let go, and my heart thrills a little as we walk hand in hand to the marina office.
Noah nods at the man behind the counter as the bell on the door announces us. “Good afternoon. We want to dive Sipadan tomorrow. What’s the best way to do that?”
The man stands a little taller as Noah walks up. I’ve noticed that about Noah. He has a commanding presence about him that everyone responds to, from the guys Gemma, Charlotte, and I were dancing with in Vegas to this marina worker.
“You ever dived here before?” He directs his question to Noah, who shakes his head. I might as well not even be here.
“You’re in for a treat. It’s amazing. There are twelve dive sites total, and each of them have something unique to offer. But you’ll need a diving outfit to take you. You can’t go without a permit issued by the Sabah Parks government agency. There are a limited number of permits available each day, which are distributed between all of the dive outfits.”
The man pulls a tattered brochure out from under the register, but even the worn paper can’t dull the beauty of the blue water and the unique little houses on stilts depicted on the front. “Your best bet is to stay at a dive resort. This one’s fantastic, but it’s pricey. It’s the only resort on the island, though, and a speedboat can take you wherever you want to dive.”
“That will be perfect,” Noah says.
“That’s too much,” I protest. “We could just stay on the Kairos.”
Noah’s gaze swivels to me, and his eyes are hot. “I plan to use and abuse that gorgeous body of yours tonight until you’re screaming with pleasure. I’d prefer to do it where we have a comfortable bed and plenty of room.”
His words, spoken so blatantly in front of the man, assert his claim over me and make me blush, but it’s also a huge turn-on.
Noah turns back to the marina owner. “Are there places to dock a sailboat near Sipadan?”
“Well…” The man hesitates. “There are docks in Semporna, but nothing like mine.” His chest puffs out slightly with pride. “Semporna’s small…not much there, other than it’s the gateway to Sipadan. If you want to leave your boat here, I’ll make sure she’s safe. You can catch a bus to Semporna in town. It’s a little over an hour’s drive. If you call ahead, the resort will pick you up on the other end and take you there by speedboat.”
“Perfect.” Noah hands him a hundred-dollar bill. “Keep the Kairos safe, and I’ll give you double when I return. How do we get to town?”
Thirty minutes later, Noah has called and reserved us one of the little houses on stilts built over the incredibly blue water on Sipadan and made arrangements for the resort to pick us up. The marina owner’s son, whose name is Gustav, has driven us into town and dropped us off at the Sabindo Square Bus Terminal, refusing the money Noah offered him. Inside, we check the bus schedule. The next bus doesn’t leave for another thirty minutes, so I take the opportunity to go to the restroom before the hour-and-a-half-long bus ride.
I grabbed my bag off the boat, and I dig through it, looking for a tube of mascara. I’ve barely worn any makeup since I’ve been in the Philippines. Gemma and Charlotte would be shocked. I stop, studying my face in the mirror. I look different, but I can’t quite put my finger on how. My typically dark-blonde hair is definitely lighter and shot through with gold streaks, and my skin has turned the color of coffee laced heavily with cream, but it’s something else. Something deeper. Whatever it is, I know I have Liam to thank for it. I just wish he hadn’t had to die for me to get a new lease on life.
I shake my head. The important thing is that I’m not wasting any more of this precious thing called life, and I’ve crossed five things off Liam’s bucket list so far, including one that I’d originally had no idea how I’d be able to. I think about Noah and his dark proclivities and the things he’s taught me about myself, and the things we’ve explored together. And tomorrow, I’ll tick one more thing off as we experience what is supposedly the best dive site in the world.
“Thank you, Liam,” I say out loud. “I hope you’re with me tomorrow.”
Oh God. I’m losing my mind, talking to my dead brother in the bathroom of a bus station. I quickly swipe some mascara on, hoist my bag onto my shoulder, and push the door to the restroom open.
It all happens so fast. One minute, I’m walking out of the restroom, intent on finding Noah and hoping he’ll finger me under a blanket on the bus until I come, and the next, a hood is being pulled over my head as my arms are pinned roughly behind my back. I start to scream, but a hand quickly clamps over my mouth. I bite it.
“Motherfucker!” The swear word is spoken in a distinctive American accent.
He lets go of me, and I take the opportunity to kick blindly, hoping I get lucky and catch him in the balls. My heel hits his shin instead and he grunts, but he doesn’t let go of me. Instead, he ties a gag over my mouth through the hood, then quickly binds my wrists and ankles with cable ties.
“What the fuck are you doing?” a muffled voice demands angrily. “I told you not to hurt her.”
“You told me she’d be easy,” the first one retorts. “If I didn’t tie her up, she was going to make a scene and we’d risk him seeing us.”
“Fine. Let’s go.” The other one’s voice is brisk and businesslike, and it reminds me of someone. “We’ve got to get her out of here before he comes looking for her.”
He? Oh God. They’re talking about Noah. Of course! Noah will find me. He’ll save me.
I’m half carried and half dragged for several yards, where I’m deposited into what I’m guessing is a car trunk, judging by the thud of a door closing above me, followed by the sound of an engine starting. I remember seeing some TV show that showed how to escape a car trunk by poking your hand through the tail lights or something, but they never said what you’re supposed t
o do when your arms and legs are tied. My heart is pounding, and I feel that familiar wave of nausea as panic threatens to overwhelm me. What would Noah do? Not panic, for one thing. I try to slow my breathing. I just have to stay alive until Noah finds me. I can try to get away when they take me out of the trunk.
The car stops, the trunk opens, and then I’m being lifted out and carried again, but this time by both of them, leaving me little opportunity to escape, although I buck and thrash around as much as possible. I hear a series of doors open and close, and then I’m being set on my feet as the gag is untied from my mouth and the ties are cut from my hands and feet. Seeing my opportunity, I elbow the man closest to me in the stomach as hard as I can.
“Jesus, Kenzie. When did you get so fucking feisty?” The hood is ripped off, and I find myself staring into the gorgeous face of Walker Kincaid, Gemma’s best friend and Liam’s SEAL brother.
“Walker?” My mind is trying hard to process what Walker is doing in Malaysia, and why the hell he kidnapped me. “What’s going on?”
“Sorry for kidnapping you like that. I couldn’t figure out any other way to get you out of there without Payne seeing us.” He shoots a disapproving look at the short but beefy-looking, dark-haired guy across from him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or scare you.”
“Well, you did both,” I say, rubbing my wrists where the zip ties cut into my skin. “Why didn’t you want Noah to see you? I need to tell him where I am. He’s probably going crazy with worry.”
“I’m sure he is,” Walker says derisively. “He’s not who you think he is, Kenzie. He’s not one of the good guys. I kidnapped you to save you from him.”
Rogue (Phoenix Rising) Page 17
