Holding the steak to my eye, I slid to the floor so I could hear better, fighting the rising bile and closing my eyes to the dizziness. I heard Gabriel first, his voice almost unrecognizable with hatred and malice.
“Send anyone else over and they die tonight.”
“Tough words.”
“I’m tired of the bullshit, Trace.”
Trace? Who was Trace?
“How can I trust you?”
“You have me in your sights. I’m surrounded. Where do you think I can go?”
A new voice: “You’ve slipped by us before, Black, you slimy bastard. And now you’ve broken my arm. We aren’t letting you go nowhere. And I’m counting the minutes till we meet up again.”
I knew that voice. Snake.
“You can count?” Gabriel again. I smiled at the crack. Maybe I misjudged him. Maybe he could do comedy.
“Snake, get the fuck off this channel. Now.”
Trace again.
“Tomorrow,” Gabriel continued, “I sail for New Vancouver in the Canadian Gulfs.”
“Your business?”
“What it always is, Trace. Nothing’s changed.”
“The wind says differently.”
“When do you put stock in anything that comes down the wind?”
Silence.
Then the crackle and pop of interference over the airwaves. Trace’s voice moved in and out like a child playing with the volume on a radio.
Then I heard it. My name. There one minute, gone the next. I crawled now, letting the steak drop. I had to hear; I had to. And then, there it was.
“Tsunami Blue.” Interference. Then, “Hunt. Find.” Crackle, static, then, “Indigo.” Fade out. “Proud.” Fade back in. “You’ll be a rich man, Gabriel, if you pull this off.”
Trace was coming in loud and clear again.
“Yeah. And when I do, I just might remember who my friends are. So how about letting me get a decent night’s sleep by not sending me any more losers?”
“Fine. I’m tired of arguing with you. We’re done for the night. And, Gabriel?”
“What?”
“Where’s Charlie?”
“He’s taking swimming lessons from the sharks.”
I heard Trace chuckle. And even though I’d tried to encourage Charlie to take a swim myself, I failed to see the humor in it. And then Trace was back with one more question.
“Short or long sleeve?”
“Long.”
Trace laughed. “My personal favorite. That’s what I like to here, bro.”
I immediately had a vision of Charlie’s hand gripping my hair and how the blood from the severed limb had soaked and matted it into impossible knots.
I couldn’t contain my nausea any longer. I threw up what little I could and continued retching with dry heaves until my body couldn’t take it any longer.
As I laid my bruised and swollen cheek on the cool teak floor, I waited, too weak to move, listening for his familiar catlike footsteps.
He wouldn’t be pleased I’d ventured from the bunk.
Well, to hell with him. I wasn’t pleased that Trace considered him his ‘bro.’
Gabriel was a monster, albeit a great-looking one, but still a monster. I’d bide my time. Keep my cool. Learn to sail this boat, throw him overboard as I’d originally planned. See how he liked swimming with the sharks. I wouldn’t mention his ‘bro’ relationship with good old Trace. Nope. I’d just stash that little bit of info away for a rainy day.
“Blue, what the hell are you doing off the bunk?”
I couldn’t move my cheek from the cool floorboards. It felt too good. I felt too weak to lift my head. But I could yell. Or at least die trying.
“Well, hello yourself. Tell me, how’s your ‘bro,’ Trace?’
Me and my temper.
Guess that rainy day was now.
Chapter Fifteen
So apparently we were taking a shower.
With the coast clear for the night of unwanted babysitters from hell, Gabriel suggested I—that is, we—shower. He said I couldn’t do it on my own. Gee, I wondered what gave it away: the puking, the dizziness, or the just plain passing out.
Long overdue, he said.
Not a nice thing to say to a girl, I said.
I said no.
He said yes.
When I still said no, he pointed out that I had blood in my hair and other unknown bits of Charlie yet to be named. I considered all the blood and gore I’d witnessed and worn today, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t get in the shower fast enough.
But not before I reminded him that he was to blame for the mess in my hair and the mess in my life and most likely the mess in the entire world.
He said that part didn’t make sense. How could he be responsible for the waves and the destruction that followed?
Spawn of Satan? I suggested.
And that was when we stopped talking.
Still, if only I were a better communicator. I had always let my knife do all the talking. And it wasn’t like I ever had a boyfriend or a real relationship. I had Seamus, but I’d done everything in my power not to talk to him. Not to have a relationship. I didn’t want to feel anything when he died. It hadn’t worked.
But then I had Max. I knew how to talk to Max. How to love Max. And the best part? He never, ever in five years, talked back. If only Gabriel Black were that trainable. Then he might make a good boyfriend. Boyfriend? What? Where had that thought come from? Had to be head trauma.
“Blue, we’re ready.”
“You are, maybe. Me? Not so much.”
He came into the tiny stateroom where I was lying with a cold cloth over my eyes. Even the tiny candles that had been lit tweaked my vision and made my head swirl.
I opened one eye and saw he had his shirt off and his jeans still on. With his golden skin and the candlelight flickering off him, he looked like Mr. December right off the Vegas stage. And with a stubble of beard that only added to the tall, dark, and dangerous mystique, I had to admit Gabriel was even better.
Better because he was real and standing right in front of me.
I gazed at his lean and muscled torso, the tapering waist and slender hips. I didn’t need to see more. I knew every inch of this man.
I’d rubbed and stroked him, massaged him.
I’d brought him back to life.
And I was ashamed to admit it, but I so wanted to put my hands on him again. I wanted to feel his warmth. His shelter. I needed the power that radiated from him, that made me feel somehow protected, even if we were enemies.
There was no denying it: There was a connection.
I had risked my life for him. It was that undeniable pull that made me charge on deck and take on Charlie, a man a gazillion times my size. And Gabriel had done the same for me on New San Juan, where he was outnumbered and overmatched. And then again with Snake and Charlie.
What was it with us?
“Come on, Blue. You’ll feel so much better after a shower.”
I let him lift me in his arms, and the steak slipped from my fingers on the stand next to the bunk. What a waste of such a good-looking piece of meat. A New York. Guess it was nice to know that in his eyes I was worth the price of a premium cut. And in today’s world, I was thinking, that had to be a lot. It wasn’t like we had Safeway and shrink-wrap.
Gabriel had rigged a makeshift chair in the head by padding the toilet seat with a towel. The plan? The two of us would squeeze into the tiny room, and I was to sit on his lap while he handled the portable hose and showerhead. From a holding tank, he would pump the water with his foot into the system, which fed through the hose, and like magic we would have a nice, steamy shower.
In theory.
But first we had to negotiate shower rules.
Number one, he could take off his jeans. It was December, and there was no way they would dry easily. So I’d given in on that. But he would wear underwear. I requested the black number from his washed-up-on-the-beach day. He said I�
�d get what he had on: tighty whities.
Number two, I could wear a tank top with my panties. Which he thought was ridiculous, since I’d spent time with him in the hold topless. Not to mention time with Charlie. I pointed out that I’d been wearing a blanket, and Charlie had the whole absinthe-haze thing going on, so technically he didn’t really see me. He saw double-Ds. I won, of course.
And now we were ready.
But the shower wasn’t.
I’d taken so long to negotiate that our hot and steamy was barely lukewarm. Gabriel started over, warming kettle after kettle of water.
I sat on the side bunk in the main cabin with the camp blanket wrapped securely around me. My spinning world had stopped, replaced by a headache of all headaches. Gabriel said that was to be expected and insisted again that I needed to be woken up every hour. Great. Because my sore and aching body screamed for sleep. Ten straight years should do it.
I looked around the cabin and marveled at the amazing job Gabriel had done cleaning up after Snake and company while I’d slept. I knew without asking that the blood and hand would be gone from below too. Knowing I might have to spend more time in the deep bowels of the boat, Gabriel had made it tolerable for me. That was the kind of guy my kidnapper was.
Gabriel had brought up the knapsack he’d tossed down below to me earlier and it sat beside me. I was unsure what was to be done with it. It was for me; that much I knew. And the curiosity was killing me.
“Blue.” He walked over and sat beside me on the small bunk. “Open it.”
I placed the small canvas bag in my lap. The blanket slid down, revealing my full tattoo from shoulder to wrist. I knew Gabriel was staring at it. At the name Finnegan scrolled through the waves, reaching upward toward my heart. But I ignored him. Some things I never discussed. And Finn was at the top of the list.
I opened the bag and there, gleaming in the candlelight, were three Japanese float balls. I recognized the blown-glass amber and green ones right away, those colors I had seen before. They were like the ones I had lost in the fire. But the third was new.
New, and oh, so amazing.
I fought back a laugh of sheer joy but couldn’t contain my smile as I brought out the rare and much-sought-after cobalt blue one.
“Oh, Gabriel,” I whispered, truly in awe. “It’s beautiful.”
“Like you,” he whispered back.
Not wanting to ruin the moment, I ignored his comment, but as usual, the tingling in my cheeks warned of impending blushing.
“This float is as sought after as…” I trailed off, humiliated at what I was about to say.
“As Tsunami Blue,” he finished for me.
I could only nod, knowing the truth of his words. Everyone had wanted a piece of me since I was a little girl. The Southeast Asian press, Seamus, Runners, and now, most likely, Gabriel Black. I had a very big fan club. And not in a good way.
I held the glass up to a nearby candle and let the blue shine through, beautiful and bold. I’d never been given anything so wonderful before. The feeling was simply overwhelming.
“It matches your eyes.”
I lowered the ball and tucked it safely back with the others. I’d revisit it later, alone, when I wasn’t feeling so raw and exposed. “Thank you.”
“There’s more.”
“There is?” I said, surprised.
My hands shook slightly as I pulled out an envelope. I opened it and saw that it was the clipping of my family. The one he had taped up down in the hold. I guess it was mine now. After nineteen years, my mother’s smile matched my memories perfectly. I touched her face, then my dad’s, and finally, I lingered on Finn, the only other person in this entire world who truly had known me. Had known my soul, my heart. My goodness.
Silent tears traced down my cheeks and I tasted the salt of them on my lips. For once I didn’t wipe them away. I wasn’t ashamed of the tears I’d shed for what had once been the best part of me.
“Thanks,” I breathed into the dark cabin as two of our three candles went out. “I-I don’t know what to say. Just…” My eyes were brimming with tears. “Just thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he said softly.
I was so grateful for the dark, I almost missed the third and last item in the bag.
Max’s collar.
The one I had made myself out of a series of intricate nautical knots. I gripped the collar to my chest as the pain of losing him slammed into me all over again. The tears I so desperately tried to control tumbled down my cheeks.
Gabriel was at my side and took me in his arms.
“We’ll go back for him, Blue.”
I jerked my head up. “Can he still be alive?” I thought of the hounds of hell, their sheer numbers and size. How was it possible?
“I taught Beans—that is, Max—to survive. Without you to protect, or me, he may have just done what I’d trained him to do: run for his life. As soon as we left the beach, the Runners were after us. Why stay just to hunt down one dog?”
“But their dogs, those monsters-”
“Would leave with the rest of the scum. Max has a chance. Please understand that on that day, in that boat, in those waters, we would have been killing him—and us too—to take him with us. There was no choice.”
I nodded, understanding the logic. Still, my heart pounded in my chest.
“But is it really possible he’s still alive?” I reached for Gabriel, dropping the collar and grabbing his shoulders.
Gabriel shrugged. “It’s possible, it is. But in reality probably not likely. I hate to get your hopes up.”
“We still have to go back.”
Gabriel covered my hands with his and pulled my wrists to his lips. He kissed my palms, then looked into my eyes. “We’ll try. If we get out of this mess, we’ll try. I promise.”
I looked back into the darkness of his amazing eyes, searching for answers, for reassurance, for a promise I knew he couldn’t keep. Couldn’t keep because, as I looked past Gabriel’s shoulders at the lights of the Runners’ many ships, I didn’t really believe we could get out of this mess.
The kettle whistled.
Gabriel kissed my forehead and rose to get the last of the hot water.
Chapter Sixteen
I sat on Gabriel’s lap, resting my head against his solid chest, and let the hot water wash over me. Gabriel was right about two things, not that I’d admit it.
First, the shower did make me feel better, and second, the tighty whities were just fine. Okay. More than fine. What that man could do for a pair of underwear. Wow. Let’s just say that color does not matter.
Gabriel had started with my hair. I watched the dark, almost black blood circle the drain, until finally the water ran clear. His hands were gentle as he massaged my head, careful where Charlie had done his best to scalp me.
He lathered up the most amazing soap I’d ever experienced. It was even better than the handmade oatmeal soap I’d rescued from an upscale boutique in New Seattle, just before most of the city went under in the last big wave.
Okay. Not rescued. Stole. But the bars were floating, so in my mind, technically, they were used.
Gabriel’s bar smelled of vanilla and almond and honey, all mixed as one. It was creamy and foamy, and I couldn’t get enough of it. As I breathed in the scent, I relaxed completely for the first time in days.
I let his hands trail over my shoulders and arms. He paused at my tattoo, tracing the intricate wave design.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured in my ear. “It’s as though the wave comes to life.”
I smiled. I knew exactly how he felt. The first time I was caught out in the rain after I had gotten my tattoo, I saw the same thing. The aqua wave seemed to roar to life, dancing, shimmering under the water. My wave was a thing of beauty, just as all waves should be. Just as all waves would be again someday. In my heart I believed it. That was why I had gotten the tat. It was my private symbol of hope. And that was why I had insisted Finnegan’s name was added.
Seamus had called me stupid and delusional. I had called him asshole and asshole.
My head rocked to one side, and I let Gabriel nuzzle my ear as he smoothed his hands under my tank and along my ribs. His thumbs caressed the underside of my breasts, and he slipped his hands up to cup them gently. My nipples hardened and pressed into his palms.
I opened my eyes and, repositioning myself on his lap, I touched his muscular thighs for balance. He had his hands on my breasts. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. It was wonderful; it was terrifying; it was— And that was when I felt it. Strong and hard. Demanding.
That low, low pull in my belly.
I felt dampness deep from within, pooling between my legs. I felt the push of Gabriel’s erection pressing on my bottom.
And I panicked.
I tried to stand. Too fast. My headache roared, and the dizziness returned. I lost my footing, slipping in the suds, and Gabriel caught me in strong arms.
“Blue. Please.” He pressed me onto his lap. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry. I’d never make you do anything you weren’t ready for.” His voice caught. “Never.”
He lifted me easily so I sat sideways facing the door. Facing escape. He’d done it on purpose, buying back my trust, hoping to build my confidence that I was in control. Still, he held me fast in a possessive embrace.
So much for control.
Sensing my discomfort, Gabriel let go and pushed his hair off his forehead in frustration.
“Look, I’m sorry about the hard-on.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“My, um, erection. But damn it, I’m a guy. And you’re a beautiful woman. One I’ve seen naked. A lot.”
Well, that was embarrassing.
“And,” he added, “I like you. A lot.” He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice. “Maybe more than a lot.”
“You’re a Runner, Gabriel. That makes you an entirely different kind of guy. You know, the kind you don’t take home to Mother. So don’t be getting a crush on me.”
He looked insulted. “A crush?”
“And for the record,” I continued, “I’ve seen you naked, and you don’t see me groping you at every chance. I don’t know if I like you, even a little.”
Tsunami Blue Page 12
