Kiss of a Stranger (Lost Coast Harbor, Book 1)

by Lily Danes

  “Can you perform an exorcism? Because I think that’s what it will take.”

  Harold chuckled. “Sounds about right. Get that seatbelt on, Maddie. I don’t take risks in storms.” Once she obeyed, he moved into the road. He kept a sluggish pace, slow and cautious in the bad weather. “What brought you out on a night like this?”

  Maddie hesitated. Until Hastings was exposed, she shouldn’t say a thing.

  But Harold had known her and Charlie their entire lives. He watched them grow up, and he’d been heartbroken when her ex was arrested.

  “I saw Charlie.”

  “Yeah?” His voice revealed no surprise, but encouraged her to continue.

  “It was time,” she said. “We’re not getting back together, don’t think that, but I decided not to hate him anymore.”

  “That sounds good. That all it was?”

  It wasn’t like Harold to press. He was a man of few words. The question had been asked and answered. Normally, he’d drop it.

  Her friend kept his eyes on the road, and his profile gave nothing away. Something was off.

  “That was it,” she confirmed. “It felt like time.”

  “Oh, Maddie girl.” His sigh was heavy, resigned. “You never were a very good liar.”

  No. Not Harold. She stared at his familiar profile in shock, wondering whether a stranger lived beneath that skin. Charlie said the web ran deep, that it touched every part of Lost Coast Harbor. She’d believed him, but she hadn’t really understood.

  Her hand scrambled for the door handle. The door swung open, but she couldn’t jump. The seatbelt held her firmly in place. She reached for the release button, but her fingers were slow and clumsy.

  With wide eyes, she stared as Harold dropped an empty syringe into a cupholder. The one he’d just plunged into her neck.

  The world grew dark, and then it vanished altogether.

  “What the hell are they going to do?” Gabe vibrated with tension. “This is your town. Your fucking family. Figure it out.”

  “Tell me again what you heard.”

  Once more, Gabe repeated every word Peter and Vince had uttered in the office. It was the third time, and his story hadn’t changed yet.

  Oliver’s jaw was locked, his eyes almost as panicked as Gabe’s. The car zipped around corners, the silent motor a strange contrast to its high speeds. They’d already driven through town and seen nothing to cause alarm, but it wasn’t like Vince would arrange for Maddie to be executed in the middle of the town square.

  “Give me your phone. I lost mine when someone tried to blow me up.” Gabe didn’t bother being polite, and Oliver didn’t seem to need it. He dug his cell phone out of his inside jacket pocket and handed it to Gabe.

  “Six on speed dial.”

  The phone rang. Four times, then five. Voicemail. “Damn it.” He cursed and punched the door. He tried twice more, then gave up.

  Next, he scrolled through Oliver’s contacts. It was ridiculously long, a who’s who of every businessman on the west coast. It was also the address book of someone born and raised in a small town, where everyone seemed to know everyone else.

  Erin picked up on the second ring.

  “Tell me Maddie’s with you.”

  A brief hesitation while she processed his words, then Erin went into crisis mode. She didn’t yell at him for his earlier behavior or demand answers he had no time to give. “I haven’t seen her in hours. She went to the prison.”

  Gabe closed his eyes, fighting a wave of nausea. Of course she did. He did his best to break her heart, and she responded by visiting the ex she despised—because it might help him.

  “When did visiting hours end?”

  “Five. It’s about a two-hour drive. If she stopped for dinner, she wouldn’t be home yet. Bree talked to her about forty-five minutes ago, and she was fine then. Said she’d be home soon.”

  “She’s not answering now. Look, someone’s after her. If she returns home, you need to get her somewhere safe.”

  On the other end, he heard a door slam, then a car engine turning over. “I’m driving out to the main road now to look for her. I’ll call the minute I know something.” She hung up.

  Gabe clutched Oliver’s phone, trying to think through the wall of terror forming in his mind. “If she’s still alive, they need to take her somewhere. Somewhere quiet. But this fucking town is full of quiet places. There’s an entire forest where no one would ever find them.”

  Oliver shook his head. “No. They can’t just make her disappear. There would be too many questions. We might still have time.” His voice was ragged, the sound of a man desperately clinging to hope.

  “Doesn’t your family own half the properties in this town? Are any of them empty at the moment?”

  Oliver yanked the wheel, pulling the car to the side of the road. “Give me the phone.” He dialed, and his face grew more drawn with each unanswered ring. “Jared’s not answering. Of course. Okay, let me think.” He pressed the fingers of both hands against his temples. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I tried to stop it.”

  Gabe froze. “You knew?”

  Oliver shook his head, his eyes clenched shut. “No. Yes. I knew she was poking around where she shouldn’t be. I tried getting her out of town, but I was too late. If only…”

  Gabe’s fingers dug into his palms, that familiar desire to bloody Oliver Hastings pouring over him. He’d fucking known it. All along, he knew the man wasn’t innocent.

  And right now, none of that mattered. The man could be the devil himself, and Gabe would shake his hand if it meant saving Maddie.

  “If anything happens to her, I will make sure your life is filled with nothing but misery.” It was a promise.

  Oliver met his gaze and gave a single nod of understanding. “We own business and residential properties. We have a couple cabins in the trees, but those are taken. They wouldn’t keep her in town. It’s too risky. But we have plenty of shipping depots and a few warehouses. No one would know if she was there.”

  Gabe glared at the steering wheel. “Then why are we still sitting here?”

  “Because they’re an hour or two away in all directions. We’d be taking a huge gamble.”

  Gabe fought to breathe. He wasn’t going to play a damn shell game with Maddie’s life.

  Somewhere quiet. Somewhere no one would find her until the bastards figured out the safest way to shut her up forever.

  “There are still employees in those places, right? Security guards?”

  Oliver nodded. “Yes, but they can be handled. Paid off or…”

  “Exactly. You think they’re going to risk someone else knowing? Or create another body that will draw attention? No, they’re going where no one will find them. You forgot about one other thing your family owns.”

  Oliver’s eyes widened, and he made a U-turn without checking if any cars were coming. “The docks.”

  “The ships,” Gabe corrected. “Because I can’t think of a better place to hide someone than the middle of the ocean.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  She was alone in a pitch black room.

  Maddie rolled onto her side and fought the nausea that threatened. She drew in several long gulps of air, but her stomach and head still swam.

  No. She was okay. It was the floor rising and falling with every cresting wave.

  Maddie stretched her senses as far as they would go, trying to figure out if she was still in the harbor, but all she heard was the constant onslaught of rain and the wind howling through the night. The storm hadn’t abated.

  The room smelled dank and musty, but that told her nothing. The town was full of older boats. This might even be Harold’s own vessel.

  She bent over, clutching her stomach at the memory. Harold had drugged her. The man who used to give her candy corn every Halloween, who dressed as a somewhat tipsy Santa Claus for so many town events, had drugged her and trapped her in this dark space.

  Something creaked above her. Maddie’s
head shot up.

  Screw Harold. She could moan about his betrayal later. First, she needed to get out of here.

  Whoever else was on this boat, they weren’t taking her for a pleasure cruise. She knew too much—and this time, she had no plans to stay quiet. As soon as she hit dry land, she would tell the world what Peter Hastings did.

  But first, she needed to get off the boat.

  For now, she was alive. She suspected she’d remain that way, at least until Hastings learned who else shared her knowledge. That bought her time. Time for someone to find her.

  In a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean during a storm.

  All right, then. She needed to save herself.

  Her wrists were tied in front of her body. That was the only restraint. Maddie pulled against the rope, but the knots were secure, as she should expect from someone who worked on boats his whole life. Even so, she fought. She struggled against her bonds until her wrists were raw and the ropes grew slick with her blood. She lifted her wrists to her mouth and tried biting through the thick nylon. Nothing happened.

  Giving up on the ropes, she rolled to standing. The ship pitched her to the left, and she fell hard against the side. Grunting, she tried again. This time, she kept one shoulder against the wall as a brace.

  Step by step, she moved around the room, trying to identify her location. There was some rigging along the wall, and she found a single locked door, but that was it. When she inched through the center of the room with her knees bent and her stance wide, she found nothing but empty space. A cargo hold.

  That was good news. The Hastings fleet was made up of the biggest ships that could fit in the small cove of Lost Coast Harbor. It would be easy for others to find such a large vessel.

  Except there were all those small boats coming in recently when they weren’t supposed to. Tiny ones with only a little cargo that quickly got swallowed up by the larger shipments. Almost like someone was trying to sneak something off a boat, then ensuring that the records were so convoluted no one could track its final destination.

  Hastings was still dealing in guns and drugs. He’d just found a new way to hide it. If she’d looked a little closer at those unexpected shipments, she could have figured it out sooner.

  No. She could spend hours playing the what-if game, and it wouldn’t make any of this her fault.

  She stumbled to the wall, looking for the rigging she’d discovered earlier. Most of it was built into the boat itself, but she knew the dockworkers often found creative ways to stack cargo. It took her a few minutes, but at last her hand latched onto the unmistakable cord of a bungee.

  Above her, there was another creak.

  Heart racing, Maddie tucked one of the hooks around her restraints and pulled. The ropes dug into her abraded skin. She tugged harder, and when her wrists began to burn, she used her own spit as lubricant.

  Somehow, inch by excruciating inch, she worked the ropes down her hands. Perhaps Harold still cared for her enough not to make the bonds as tight as they should have been.

  Finally, the thumb on her right hand was free. Seconds later, the rope dropped to the ground.

  The creaking sound moved closer.

  Maddie grabbed the bungee cord, testing its length and stretch.

  The sound was now right outside the door.

  When the door opened, a thin beam of light illuminated the room, and a man’s body entered that beam. Vince. Another person she believed was her friend.

  She didn’t hesitate. Silently, she stepped behind Vince and wrapped the cord around his neck twice. He jumped in surprise and clawed at the cord like she hoped he would. It gave her enough time to hook the ends into the rigging on the wall, then she bolted through the door. It would only take Vince a few seconds to free himself.

  She burst into the night, her feet pounding across the deck. Footsteps sounded behind her. She only had moments before she was hauled back into the hold.

  Maddie flew over the railing, diving into the churning sea below.

  Immediately, her coat and shoes pulled her down, and she struggled out of them. She managed to burst through the surface long enough for several gasping breaths, but when the ship’s spotlight moved toward her, she dove back under the waves.

  She tried swimming, but the ocean pulled at her. Before long, she had no idea which direction she was heading. She was as the mercy of the insistent waves, and she had couldn’t tell if they were drawing her toward the shore or further out to sea.

  How had Gabe survived this? The sea was cruel, demanding all her warmth and energy until she couldn’t even tread water. It tugged at her ankles, an inexorable pull she grew too tired to resist.

  When the spotlight found her, she only made a weak effort to avoid it, and when strong arms lifted her from the water, her struggles were pitiful.

  Strong arms that held her so tight she could scarcely breathe.

  Maddie blinked, clearing the sea water from her eyes. “Gabe?”

  “I’m here, Maddie. I’m here.”

  No angels’ chorus had ever sounded as sweet as the voice whispering in her ear. She buried her face against his chest. He was as drenched from the rain as she was, and still he felt like the warmest, most solid thing she’d ever touched. Too soon, he moved away.

  Her teeth chattered, and she shivered uncontrollably.

  “You need dry clothes. A warm blanket. Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”

  Gabe swung her into his arms. A door opened, and a second later they stood in a warm, dry room. She stared in wonder. It was nicer than her living room, with leather couches, a gas fireplace, and a flat-screen TV.

  “How did you find me?” Her voice was muffled by his shirt. “And where are we?”

  “This is Oliver’s private yacht. It turns out he’s a good guy, after all.”

  “Told you so,” Maddie muttered.

  She felt the low rumble of his suppressed laugh. “So you did,” he whispered. In a louder voice, he spoke to someone over her shoulder. “She’s okay, but she needs to get warm now.”

  “Get her below. You’ll find some of Clare’s old clothes in my cabin.”

  Maddie attempted to lift her head to thank her friend, but all she managed was a small wave.

  As soon as they were below deck, Gabe stripped her. His hands lingered on her skin, but she didn’t sense any lustful intentions. He only wanted to confirm she was safe and healthy.

  Once she was naked, he swung a heavy blanket over her, rubbing her arms and upper back through the fabric.

  “There are easier ways to warm me.” She smiled, trying to look alluring despite her still-clattering teeth.

  Gabe pressed his lips against her forehead. “Temptress,” he murmured.

  Nothing in her life had ever felt better than that touch. “Does this mean you might forgive me?”

  He ripped off his sweater until he stood in just a t-shirt, then hugged her again, giving her as much of his body heat as possible. He kept holding her until her shivers finally stopped. “It means I should have forgiven you three seconds after I saw those damn account numbers.”

  She raised her face to his, amazed to see him smiling down at her. “Wow. I should almost drown more often.”

  He gave her a light swat on her ass. “Don’t you dare. Now get dressed.”

  She was still a little stiff, but she happily pulled on a pair of jeans, a heavy sweater, and wool socks. By the time she towel-dried her hair, she almost felt normal again.

  “Let’s go thank our rescuer,” Gabe said, sounding happy about the chance to talk to Oliver.

  He threaded his fingers through hers and gave a gentle tug, indicating she should follow.

  She’d follow him anywhere.

  They were at the bottom of the stairs when the boat was knocked several feet off course. Loud bumps and scraping sounds followed.

  It wasn’t the storm. It was the sound of another boat boarding theirs.

  They rushed upstairs. Maddie tried getting there first,
but Gabe insisted on placing his body before hers.

  Which was why he was the first one to reach the yacht’s living room. The first to see Peter Hastings walk toward them.

  It took Gabe longer than it should have to identify him. He’d only seen the old man once, at a party weeks before, and he spent much of that party distracted by Maddie’s blue dress. He was tall like his sons, with the same broad shoulders. Unlike them, he used a cane, and when he spoke, only half his mouth moved.

  But he knew the voice well. Only hours before, the man calmly discussed Maddie’s death.

  Panicked, he shoved Maddie behind him, his body the only protection between her and the gun pointed directly at them.

  Correction. The guns.

  Peter Hastings held one. His fucking son held the other.

  Oliver reclined in a leather chair. His pose was lazy, but his eyes didn’t miss a thing.

  This probably wasn’t the time to say “I told you so” to Maddie.

  “What is this?” Gabe’s eyes flicked between the two men, trying to identify the bigger threat.

  “Thank you for getting them both in the same place, son. It will make their elimination much easier.” Peter glanced around the yacht. “Though it will be a shame to lose a boat this nice. Vince, how long will it take to wire this?”

  The other man studiously avoided looking at Gabe. “Another ten minutes. Twenty if you want to make sure it looks like an accident.”

  Peter nodded. “Better to be cautious. We don’t want to arouse more suspicion than necessary. Just make the explosion big enough to cover up any bullet wounds.”

  Vince pulled up the hood of his rain jacket and returned to the deck. It looked like he was laying wire along the railing.

  Gabe glared daggers at Oliver. “You think anyone’s going to believe two of your boats just happened to blow up in one week?”

  The other man’s smile was grim. “You’d be amazed what people will believe. I shouldn’t need to tell you that.”

  He started forward, stopping only when he felt a hand tug on his coat. Maddie moved to the side, refusing to stay hidden.

  He considered his options.

  Peter might be an old man, but he wasn’t weak. Even with the cane, his spine was so straight it might have been supported on a metal rod. The hand holding the gun didn’t shake.