Hurricane

by Cherry Adair

  Reasoning and second thoughts ended when these assholes boarded his boat without permission and used deadly force. He’d had his crew and divers killed just months ago in a hijacking. Fucking wasn’t happening again. MoMo and Sam secured the waterlogged guy with the other one by slapping tape over their mouths and taping over the zip ties binding their wrists and ankles to the ladder. They wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

  “Shoot to kill,” Ry told them. “Don’t second-guess yourselves. It’s them or us. I vote for us every time. Anyone have a problem with that?”

  “Not a problem for me.” MoMo looked up. “What about the camera?”

  Ry glanced at the small blinking light in the corner. The camera encompassed half the dive platform, as well as the entire outer edge, so that divers could be seen from the bridge. “Either they’re watching us and are on their way down to kill our arses, or they’ve been too busy. In which case they’ll see nothing untoward. Let’s go.”

  “Stick together, or split up?” Samuel asked.

  Ry hesitated. “We don’t know what’s up there waiting for us. Safety might be in numbers, but on the other hand if they don’t know how many of us there are—well, we might be better off with an element of surprise. Georgeo and Kevin with me. MoMo and Lenka, go around portside.” Ry pocketed a knife someone had used earlier to peel an orange.

  He’d be a shitside happier if he were fully dressed instead of wearing wet trunks. The paring knife and Uzi were good accessories, however. “And for Christ’s sake, don’t any of you get yourselves killed.”

  Georgeo boosted Kevin up onto the deck above since the two bad guys were attached to the ladder, blocking their access. He patted her butt when she was secure. “Did you hear this, cara mia? I’ll inspect every inch of you later to make sure you’re healthy.”

  Ry blocked out the exchange. Addy. Where are you?

  Fear torqued his pulse up a notch, while brain-fueled logic tamped it down as he stepped forward.

  She had to be all right.

  Had to be alive and fine, because if she wasn’t, he’d just as soon figure out a way to die. Right here, right now. These assholes could have his damn boat, have the silver from the salvage, have everything that he’d once thought mattered to him. He’d just lived a year of his life without her, and if he had to enter that kind of dark abyss again nothing would matter to him.

  Not a damn thing.

  * * *

  Addison’s gaze shot to the aft deck monitor. No one on the dive platform now, just lapping azure water and endless robin’s-egg-blue skies. Oh, God—was that dark blotch on the deck blood?

  Fear snagged in her throat. Where had they taken Ry and the others? Realizing she was about to hyperventilate, she forced her breathing to regulate. Unconscious wasn’t going to save her ass right now.

  Naveen looked nervously from Addison to Hollis. “I’ll take the women with me—”

  “You don’t have time for a ménage. I’ll keep your ladies company while you’re gone.”

  Naveen almost ran out, accompanied by five men who looked as though they hung out at an Algerian dockside bar looking for trouble. Even if you dressed these guys in suits they’d look like street toughs.

  “Get these two tied up.” Morimoto wagged a fat, beringed finger like a windshield wiper between Hollis and herself. “And be quick about it.”

  Eyes hard and impersonal, one of the men moved in front of her, a handful of zip ties from his pocket in his hand.

  “Touch me and I’ll—” What exactly? Screw that. Instead of baseless threats, Addison met the guy halfway, ramming her shoulder into his chest. Not exactly well thought out. It was as ineffective as slamming into a brick wall And she bounced backward from the impact. “Omphshit!”

  She caught herself and staggered, bumping into her mother, who let out a shrill scream. And kept on screaming. Damn stupid considering the Australian had just backhanded her moments before.

  His face turned a mottled red. “Jesus bloody Christ, shut up you stupid fucking bitch. If not for you I’d be—”

  What he’d be was lost in the high-pitched shrieks. Clearly Hollis had suddenly figured out she’d gone to bed with the devil himself. Wiles and pleading hadn’t worked worth a damn, and now she was going for hysterics. It was like throwing a match on a stack of gasoline-soaked cordwood.

  “Hollis—” Addison grabbed her mother’s arm and gave her a hard shake. “For crap’s sake, get a damn grip.” These men were capable of killing them with a bullet. Or worse. “Mother—”

  Holy crap, her mother’s voice rose in unceasingly sharper decibels. Shaking her didn’t help. Addison was about to slap her, herself, when Morimoto roared, “Fuck it!” making both women flinch.

  This time he swung back his fist. There was a split second when Hollis’s eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut. Too late. The throbbing silence lasted only a few seconds before he put his body into the punch.

  The sound of crunching bone made bile rise in the back of Addison’s throat. Hollis’s face seemed to explode—blood flew everywhere.

  The entire situation seemed surreal, hard for Addison to wrap her brain around. The violence was shocking, and the ghost of her mother’s screams seemed to hang, quivering, in the air. Addison shot out a hand as Hollis dropped to her knees, sobbing, both hands clutched to her bleeding face.

  Hollis’s gasping, terrified whimpers were more chilling than the piercing screams. Stunned that the blow hadn’t knocked her mother out, Addison crouched beside her, wrapping her arm around her mother’s thin shoulders. No matter how despicable her mother’s actions were to bring this down on them, she hated seeing her physically hurt. Rocking and making soothing noises, she shot Morimoto a dark look over her mother’s head.

  A dozen vile accusations flooded her mind as she cradled Hollis in her arms as if she were a child. None passed her lips. One wrong word, one wrong move could inspire this man to do a lot worse than beat them.

  As she rocked and murmured, she gauged the distance to the open door over a mass of Hollis’s blond hair. Twenty feet. At least. Morimoto and the two men with him stood off to the side. A straight shot. If she—

  No. There was no way she’d leave Hollis—no matter how she felt about her—alone with these men. She stroked her mother’s narrow back.

  Morimoto spoke in low tones to his men, his words inaudible to Addison over the sounds of her mother’s terrified weeping and the rapid throb of her own heartbeat in her ears. As her mother’s blood soaked into her shirt, hot and terrifying, everything in her screamed Run.

  “On your feet, bitch.” Morimoto jerked Addison up.

  Her mother whimpered, trying to clutch at Addison’s leg as she was pulled away.

  “What’s the point of the violence?” With effort, Addison used the calmest, most reasonable tone possible. Inside, her heart galloped. Sweat prickled her skin, and her knees and face throbbed. Fear was a living animal, racing around inside her like a gerbil on a wheel.

  Tune out Hollis.

  Block her fear for Rydell’s safety.

  The danger was here and now. Tunnel vison made the Australian the only one in the room. “Naveen will get what you want and you can all go,” she told him, as calmly as she could. It pissed her off that she could hear fear in her own voice. She swallowed to moisten her dry throat. “No harm, no foul.”

  He nodded to the guy with the zip ties. Everything inside Addison contracted as the man wrenched her arms up.

  Morimoto had her by her upper arm. Fat fingers hard as steel as he turned her. “Hands behind your back.” Addison turned in his grip to present her crossed wrists for the freaking restraints. Morimoto held her still as his man looped the plastic tie over her hands and ratcheted it tighter and tighter around her wrists until the circulation in her hands was cut off. It was so painful, tears stung her eyes.

  Pins and needles pricked her hands before they went completely numb.

  Ry. Where are you?

  Twenty-th
ree

  Addy’s cabin was crowded. Out of camera view in the public spaces, Ry had gathered Jax, Oscar, and chef Patrick O’Keefe, who was armed with a wicked-looking knife and a fierce and furious glint in his eyes. Kevin, Lenka, Samuel, MoMo, and Georgeo stayed out of the way, on the far side of the room.

  As they’d progressed through the ship they’d taken out not only as many armed men as possible, but also the cameras that fed into monitors on the bridge.

  As far as they knew, five crew members were dead. Shot point-blank.

  He’d personally killed three of the prince’s men with the Uzi he’d taken from the men on the dive platform. Rage and panic roiling in his gut over the thought that Addy’s life may hang on his actions made it a hell of a lot easier to do what had to be done.

  Lenka took out two hijackers.

  MoMo too.

  They’d split up and headed down to Addy’s cabin to regroup.

  Ry and MoMo had found Jax, semiconscious, behind the sofa in the salon and practically carried him belowdecks. He should fucking well be in the hospital. They’d passed Chief Engineer Omesh Chauhan, dead, in the corridor, his blood splattered on the wall.

  “Did they take Addy to the bridge?” Ry demanded of Jax, whose white shirt was covered with dark, wet blood. The guy leaned heavily against the wall, but other than pressing a towel against his bleeding shoulder refused treatment.

  “Was she hurt? Terrified—?” Of course she was fucking terrified. They all were. The situation was volatile and unpredictable. And at any minute things would get a shitload worse.

  The dive team still wore nothing but their damn swim shorts. Worse, Addy, wasn’t wearing head-to-toe Kevlar. Bloody hell. What the fuck was Darshi thinking bringing these men to Addy’s home?

  Because that’s what Tesoro Mio was, Addy’s home.

  Dickwad. He’d disliked him before. Now he hated the bastard.

  “Ry—” Kevin inserted. “Don’t go there. Addison’s a resourceful young woman.”

  He turned on her, a vein throbbing in his temple. “They have fucking guns, Kev.”

  “We noticed, but losing our cool right now isn’t going to help her.”

  Ry dragged in a breath. “Right.”

  “She wasn’t hurt—not before I passed out anyway. And she didn’t appear to be scared,” Jax told him. Glancing down at the blood-soaked towel, he slid down the wall as if his legs would no longer hold him. “She was pissed.”

  A small measure of warmth and hope unfurled in his chest. “That’s my girl.”

  A soft, rapid tap on the cabin door made them turn in unison. Already alert, Ry stiffened and held up his Glock, indicating he’d get it. He opened the door a crack, saw the captain, and shoved it open wide enough for the other man to enter, sideways. “How bad is it?” He indicated Seddeth’s seeping head wound with the barrel of the gun.

  “I’ll live.” The captain glanced around the room, counting heads. “Just came from the bridge. They knocked me out. Addison’s there. So’s her mother and the prince. Who is not in charge, if you’re wondering. Some guy named Gorou Morimoto seems to be calling the shots and brought a whole fucking army with him.”

  Addy’s mother?

  She was the punch line to a god-awful joke. Ry frowned. “Who is he and where does he come in? And what the hell is Hollis doing here?”

  “Some Australian guy. Addison’s mother is thick as thieves with both me—” He swayed. “Sorry. Need to sit down.” Seddeth dropped onto the nearest horizontal surface, Addy’s pristine bed. “The three of them appear to be involved with the art heists.”

  “Addy’s mother?”

  “Apparently.”

  No surprise really. The woman was vile enough to eat her young. “How many men there?” Ry demanded as Kevin rose from Addy’s desk chair and disappeared into the bathroom. Water ran.

  “The mother, the prince, this Australian guy, and seven heavily armed men. Semi-autos and pistols. That’s who I saw. There are more, but I didn’t see them, so have no count.”

  “Three on the dive platform, seven that we deleted on the way … There are certainly more swarming throughout the ship. And you saw—how many in the chopper?”

  “Four,” Georgeo told them.

  “Fuck. What do we have for weapons?”

  “Enough to put up a damn good fight,” Jax said from his position on the floor. He sent Kevin a smile as she handed him a dry towel, some pills, and a glass of water. What he needed was a doctor and stitches.

  Ry rubbed a hand over his jaw. “The prince and some of those armed men will be down here any second, looking for those painti—Fuck—” The engines kicked in. “They’ve weighed anchor.”

  * * *

  Unsympathetic, Addison wished to hell Hollis would stop whimpering. It would only draw more attention, and she was afraid the next move from Morimoto would be to shoot her mother to shut her up. She nudged her with the side of her foot. Hollis didn’t seem to notice.

  So be it. Morimoto was her mother’s buddy. Hollis would know his tolerance level to an eyelash flutter. As far as Addison was concerned, she was on her own. With her shoulder muscles burning under the strain, she attempted to uncross her wrists, shackled behind her back, without being obvious. Overlapping her wrists had seemed like a genius move, except … not. The guy had ratcheted the zip tie so tightly, it was all but impossible to uncross her hands. She kept trying, even though the pain brought tears to her eyes and made her grit her teeth until her jaw ached.

  Morimoto took out a gun and pointed it straight at Hollis’s forehead. “Bitch, if you don’t fucking stop whinging, I’ll make sure you never whine again.”

  Tears swimming, Hollis bit her lip, giving him a wounded look, which Morimoto missed as he turned his back. His girth blocked Addison’s view—but it appeared he was pushing buttons on the state-of-the-art console. Oh, God. Now what? Was he weighing anchor…?

  Crap, yes.

  The ship seemed to give a slight jerk. Addison felt a soft vibration underfoot as the winch pulled up the anchor. Her heart, already pounding, leapt out of control. This was bad, bad, bad.

  Taking a small step back, she kept working her wrists. All good now that they’d gone numb and merely felt as though her skin was on fire.

  Ry would be apoplectic about another freaking hijacking. If he was in a condition to be worried …

  Don’t go there. Do not go there.

  Ry was smart, enterprising, and would do whatever it took to protect both her and his ship.

  She needed to say that to herself over and over. A mantra to get her through this.

  Ry will come.

  But in the meantime, like her ex, she was also smart, enterprising, and determined, and she’d do whatever it took to save herself. And him.

  Later they could celebrate together.

  Anticipating the sound of the anchor seating in the hold, she though she heard the faint thud. Or not. Her imagination was already going haywire, not that she needed any imagination to know that moving the ship was a bad thing.

  Where did Morimoto plan to go? Sydney? Tesoro Mio was a big ship; they wouldn’t be able to hide their passage between the Maldives and Sydney. But there was over five thousand miles of open ocean between here and Sydney. And then what? Skuttle the ship? Change her name and paintwork?

  Wasn’t going to happen. Because surely by now the Coast Guard guys, and hopefully Interpol, were aware that Naveen was gone. Logically they must realize he’d return to Tesoro Mio to retrieve the paintings. Logically … But then when was any government anything ever logical? Perhaps they’d be dead by the time Interpol or the Coast Guard figured it out.

  Her wrists needed a break. Addison stopped the torquing for a moment. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m not the one going,” Morimoto informed her. As he perspired in the hot room, the smell of oily garlic became more pronounced. Sweat gleamed in every fold around his jaw and neck, and darkened patches of his suit coat. He constantly mopped his fa
ce with a white handkerchief, which didn’t help the steady flow of sweat. Addy wasn’t going to tell him how to turn on the AC, although it was hotter than hell with the sun pouring through the wraparound windows on the bridge.

  Beyond the windows the ocean shone a deep teal blue. Glittering sequins of light bounced off the deadly calm, flat surface.

  Four men surrounded the helicopter, still on the aft deck helipad. She didn’t see anyone else. The good news was she hadn’t heard gunshots for a while.

  Looking alert and ready for anything, the two thugs with Uzis blocked the door with their bulk. She wasn’t going to get out that way, no matter how fast she was. If Seddeth had managed to slip through the door in back to his own quarters on the deck below, Addison wondered if she had a shot at doing the same thing? She took two more small steps backward.

  It was damn hard to concentrate when her brain was going a mile a minute and she’d already lost the feeling all the way from her fingertips to her shoulders. “Where will you be?”

  Was he going to kill everyone when he discovered his paintings weren’t on board? Stupid question. Of course he was.

  “Didn’t the prince tell you?” Morimoto glanced at her over his muscled, wrestler shoulder. “Tesoro Mio is mine.”

  “If Naveen sold this ship it was without the authority of its rightful owners. No matter what he told you, the sale’s illegal.”

  Morimoto turned. “You gave the prince your power of attorney. I have your signature.”

  “I’d never sign away this ship. What you have is a forgery. Besides, my husband is co-owner so you’d have to have both signatures. Didn’t happen.”

  “Dear sniveling Hollis over there is not only an excellent broker. She’s an excellent forger. Isn’t that so, my dear?”

  Addison didn’t take her eyes off him. “What kind of ‘broker’?”

  Ry where are you? Now would be a good time for you to get here.

  * * *

  Everyone fell silent at the sound of a key being inserted into the slot in the door. Ry doused all the lights. Addy? He shifted, eager to see her in one piece, but also aware that the ship was overrun with bad guys. This could be anyone.