Moments later, the girls were tucked in on either side of Ma, blankets around them. Miss Vi expertly turned the boat. “Headed back to town,” she said. “You boys. What are you doing?”
“Liam says he’s going to block off roads and waterways to Charleston,” Sean said. “And meanwhile...” He looked at Cash. “The two of us are going to sneak up from this end and see if we can rescue Anna.”
* * *
ANNA’S HEARTBEAT SETTLED into race pace, not quite as high as before. The girls had been out of sight for a while and no one had bothered to chase them.
Beau and those awful Mahoney brothers had gone off into a wooden shack. They were arguing, leaving her tied to the protruding roots of a tree. She couldn’t get loose, and she couldn’t get comfortable.
But at least her girls were safe. She shut her eyes and prayed as hard as she ever had in her life: Please help them. Let Sean get them to Safe Haven.
Suddenly, Beau burst out of the shack. Dread clutched her stomach as he hurried over to her. He cut the ropes that bound her and yanked her along by the arm, pulling her toward a moored boat. It looked like a cross between a flat airboat and the type of shrimp boats she’d seen in Safe Haven.
Instinctively, she resisted. A boat like that could travel much faster than Sean’s canoe. “No, Beau. You have me. You don’t need to have the girls, too.”
“Don’t you get that I don’t want them?” He slapped her face, offhandedly, not even hard. But it was a sign of how far she’d come that the blow offended her, angered her.
For years, she’d been used to that treatment, nearly immune. She could only hope that she’d gotten out of the situation before her girls had internalized that women should be treated that way.
He hauled her onto the boat and threw her down onto the deck just as the Mahoney brothers emerged from the shack.
They climbed onto the boat. “Well, lookee there,” the bigger one said. “Yankee boy brought us a present.”
“She’s just as pretty as she looked at that old biddy’s house.”
She could barely breathe, but she thought: Aha. So that was why Blackie went crazy barking at Ma Dixie’s place.
If only she’d found a way to flush them out and face them there.
Now what hope did she have?
Desperate longing rose in her: to be free to raise her girls, raise them in a community like Safe Haven.
She knew that now. Now that she was in trouble, she saw how valuable an asset a good community was. Even in this horrendous situation she had some peace, because she knew Sean would get her girls to safety, and she knew that people like Miss Vi and Ma Dixie would make sure they found a home, good people to care for them.
Except she wanted to be the person to care for them.
She wanted it so bad she bit through her lip, tasted blood and surged to her feet. The men’s startled cries were behind her as she plunged into the murky water beside the boat and started to swim.
Slimy plants and who knew what else tangled with her legs, and when she ventured to put a foot down, the bottom of the river was pure, deep muck. She recoiled, gasping. The black water had a salty taste.
But whatever lurked in the swamp water was safer than the land creatures now turning the boat to come after her.
She lifted her head and looked around. Now that she was away from them, where could she go? What direction offered even the slightest opportunity of escape?
There. The other shore, away from the little island. If she could get to land and run, run through the trees, maybe she’d come to civilization, a house, a road with cars on it.
It was her only chance.
She struck out toward the middle of the river, arms windmilling, legs kicking fast. It had been years since she’d done any swimming, and her breath started coming hard. But the thought of her girls, of their desperate need for her, lent strength to her stroke.
A sound behind her, a splash. Another. They must be using the small rowboat that had been tied to the back of the motorized one.
Something grabbed her by the back of her T-shirt and she thrashed away, causing the rowboat to rock wildly. Beau fell into the water.
Good. He couldn’t swim well. She kicked hard, then started crawl-stroking away.
“Get her!” one of the Mahoney brothers yelled, and when she looked back, she saw that the little rowboat was gaining on her.
“Help!” Beau’s voice was faint, gurgling.
Hands grabbed her by the hair and then the back of her shirt. She looked back, kicked and thrashed, but one of the brothers leaned out and grabbed her around the middle, flipping her into the boat with what seemed like superhuman strength.
Despair washed over her. She lay gasping while they more lazily rescued Beau, who sputtered and kicked out at her. They paddled back to the bigger boat and carried her aboard, leaving Beau to climb in behind them.
She’d failed.
She’d never get to raise her girls.
Defeat brought tears to her eyes, and when Beau leveled another savage kick at her, they flowed down even as she used her legs to leverage herself out of his reach.
“Hey, now,” the younger brother scolded, mildly. He made quick work of tying her to some kind of silver protrusion on the boat’s deck.
Beau leveled another kick at her. It caught her in the ribs and she couldn’t restrain a cry.
“Ya know...” The older brother looked at the younger one.
The communication between them was as instantaneous as it was between her own girls.
“Right,” said the younger brother. And with a quick elbow to the neck, he hit Beau’s windpipe.
Beau went down like a collapsing inflatable.
The brothers glanced at each other, again with the silent communication. One took his shoulders and the other his feet, and they dumped him into the rowboat.
“We taking him with us?” the younger brother asked.
“No. Because...” The older brother leaned down to the rowboat, flipped Beau onto his stomach and pulled something out of his back pocket. A wallet, and he quickly looked inside and counted the bills. “It’s all here. Wet, but here. Pull over to shore and we’ll tie him to the island. Let O’Dwyer find him.”
The idea was swiftly carried out, and Anna watched, her mind racing. She couldn’t regret seeing Beau overpowered. This man had terrorized her and her children for so long. It was stunning that he could be vulnerable, could be beaten.
But there was no time for reflecting on the past; she had to focus on this moment, and these men who now held her captive.
“If you’ve got your money now,” she said, “you could just leave me here, right? I won’t say anything to anyone.”
The older brother snorted out a laugh.
“You’re coming along,” the younger one said.
“What are you going to do with me?”
The two looked at each other.
Then the younger brother went to the helm of the boat and started steering it into the bayou.
* * *
“WE SHOULD’VE GONE to Charleston,” Cash said. “If that’s where he was headed, I’ve got all kinds of connections there.”
“So does Liam.” Sean paddled steadily.
“You think they’ll still be on Ricochet?”
“Or close. Maybe.” He glanced back at his brother. “When I found out the Mahoney brothers were there, it’s like a wild card.”
“Yeah,” Cash said slowly, “or not. Because we know ’em.”
It was true, and it gave them some kind of advantage. The Mahoneys, though younger than Sean and Cash, were from a family known to most of the area. They lived deep in the bayou, grew weed and made meth, and generally terrorized the region.
The thought of the family made Sean paddle harder, and behind him, he felt Cash do the same.
The sun was sinking in the west, painting the sky pink and gold. If Anna were alone with those two—and her abusive ex... It didn’t bear thinking about.
“We’re getting close,” he said a few minutes later. “Muffle it.”
They had done this as kids, sneaking around the delta. They paddled silently.
When they reached the island, though, the Mahoneys’ big boat was gone. Only a small rowboat floated, tied to a protruding root.
Cautiously, they came alongside it. Saw a limp, face-down body, thankfully male. Sean swallowed, nudged him to his side with his paddle.
Anna’s ex. Unconscious, or... “Is he dead?” Cash asked.
Sean felt his neck and detected a pulse. “Just knocked out.”
“So the Mahoney brothers took Anna somewhere.”
A chill went over Sean. “Yeah.”
“We have to bring him along.”
“He’ll slow us down.”
“Not by much, and having him out in the world is a bigger risk to Anna.”
“The Mahoneys are a risk to Anna.” But he saw Cash’s point, and reluctantly, he took Beau’s feet while Cash took his shoulders. They lifted him into the bottom of the canoe, and he started moving restlessly, coming back to consciousness.
“Where do you think they took her?” Cash directed the question at Sean.
But Beau’s eyes flickered open. “Their fishing camp,” he said, his voice foggy. He started to struggle upright.
Sean took a lot of pleasure in socking him in the chin, knocking him out again.
“You think he’s right about where they took her?” Cash asked.
“It’s as good a guess as any.” As they paddled swiftly, silently, in that direction, their boat riding low in the water, Sean felt like he was reworking the past with every movement of his muscles. Now he wasn’t the helpless kid whose father was out to destroy his mother.
Now he had some power, and God willing, he was going to use it to fix things for the twins and for Anna.
* * *
FROM HER AWKWARD position over the bigger Mahoney brother’s shoulder, Anna looked around the small fishing cabin and tried to think.
She had no chance of overpowering these two hulks, and escaping them in the midst of the dark swamp was almost worse than being here. All she could hope was that Sean or Liam would find her, somehow, before Beau did.
Her eyes lit on the cookstove at the same time she heard the bigger brother’s stomach growl. Suddenly, she knew exactly how she was going to buy herself some time.
“Put me down,” she ordered, and to her surprise, he complied. She put her hands on her hips and faced the two men. “When was the last time you ate?” She was quaking inside, but she tried to channel the strong women she’d met in Safe Haven: Ma, Miss Vi, Yasmin.
The younger brother looked at the floor and rubbed the back of his neck. “This morning,” he said.
“That won’t do. You boys sit right down at that table and let me fix you some food.”
They looked at each other, and she held her breath.
“Ain’t no food here,” growled the bigger one. He started toward her.
She spun away and opened the cupboard, found cornmeal and a bag of potatoes, white strings growing off them.
If there was one thing she knew, it was how to make a dinner out of what seemed like no food. She’d done it often for her father, and the skill had come in handy with the twins occasionally, as well. “I need lard,” she said, “or butter.”
They looked at each other again. Then the smaller one opened the cupboard beneath the sink and pulled out a tin can. “Bacon grease,” he said, thrusting it at her.
“That’ll do. Now either sit, or go get me some fish or greens.”
“Ain’t no time to fish,” the younger one said.
“Ain’t no time to eat,” the older one growled.
“But I’m hungry!”
She ignored the squabbling and tried to still the shaking in her hands. A moment’s rummage through the drawers and cupboards yielded a spoon and a cast-iron skillet.
She put the bacon grease to melting and then looked around the rest of the kitchen. Found an onion and a knife, thought briefly about stabbing the two men with it and decided that appealing to their senses was the wiser path. Speedily, she chopped the onion and threw it into the bacon grease.
Even she, who felt sick with fear, recognized the appeal of the fragrance that quickly arose.
The younger Mahoney went out the cabin door and she saw him outside slicing up greens with a hunting knife.
The older Mahoney went to the freezer, pulled out something and thrust it at her.
It was meat. Skinned. In the shape of a squirrel.
She swallowed the gag that wanted to rise in her. “Oh, that’ll be good,” she said to him sweetly. “It might not thaw for a while, but we’ve got time, right?”
“No.” He took the frozen squirrel out of her hands and thrust it back in the freezer. He gave her an assessing look.
Hurry up, Sean, she telegraphed mentally as she turned back to the chopping board.
Would there be any way he could find her here, though?
Soon enough, the potatoes were chopped and frying. The younger brother brought in the greens, and she chopped them carefully, and as slowly as she could.
“Get a move on,” the older brother said.
“I’ll have to cook the greens after the potatoes fry,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.
He opened a cupboard, pulled out another cast-iron pan and handed it to her. “Do it now.”
Carefully, she flipped the potatoes and onions and then set another blob of bacon grease melting in the second pan. Sprinkled the greens in. Found salt and pepper for seasoning.
If these two were anything like Beau and her father, they’d eat fast.
And afterward, who knew what they’d do to her? Desperately, she looked out the window, hoping to see Sean, Liam, anyone.
“Serve them up.”
“They’re not crispy yet.”
“Serve them.” The older brother narrowed his eyes at her.
He knew she was stalling. “Where are your plates?”
He nudged his younger brother, who pulled a couple of tin plates from the cupboard. He held them out, and Anna piled both of them high with greens and potatoes.
They both sat down at the table and she got them beers from the fridge. Looked out the window again.
Nothing.
She drew in her breath, prayed for strength. And then she started melting another blob of bacon grease.
It took a minute before the chewing sounds stopped. “What are you doing?” the older one asked.
“Cooking more,” she said.
“Don’t.”
The bacon grease was sizzling now.
“Okay,” she said. Turned off the gas heat, took the pan off the stove. And flung the hot grease into his face.
He screamed and clawed at his eyes and stood up in a rage, but he was blinded and in pain.
His brother wasn’t. He stood and came toward her.
She grabbed the chopping knife and held it up. “Keep your distance,” she ordered.
But her voice trembled.
He came at her fast, grabbed her hand and, with one squeeze, made her drop the knife. “You hurt my brother,” he said, and smacked her face.
It hurt. But she was used to hurting. “Look at him,” she cried, the oldest child’s trick in the world, but he fell for it. While he was distracted, she yanked her trapped hand away—a skill born of long experience with Beau—and ran for the door.
He was behind her, grabbing her, but she flung it open. Ran out toward the river.
There was a rustling and crashing in the vegetation beside the Mahoneys’ dock. She saw a shadowy f
orm.
Sean! And Cash, right behind him.
Sean gripped her shoulders for the briefest second, looking into her eyes, then scanning her. “Stay out here. We’ve got this covered as long as I know you’re safe.”
“The girls?”
“Safe with Ma and Miss Vi.”
“Come on!” Cash jerked his head in the direction of the cabin, and they rushed inside like a two-man army.
There was some thumping and falling then, and the sound of blows. A shot was fired.
Who’d been shot? She rushed to the propped-open window and looked inside. One of the Mahoney brothers lay on the floor, but the other was swinging a gun wildly.
“Anna!” Sean yelled. “Get out of here! Call Liam!” He tossed her a phone. And then he and Cash dived for the brother who was still standing.
Anna ran for the boat and half collapsed beside it, then punched the button for an emergency call.
As she explained the situation, she saw movement in the boat. Beau was there, unconscious, but starting to wake up.
As she ended the call, Beau sat up in the boat. He looked woozy, but angry, and he reached for her.
Behind her, she heard Sean shouting. Heavy running feet. He’d help her, save her.
But she wanted this one for herself. For herself and her girls.
She stood, drew back her fist and hit Beau in the chin like some TV boxer. As hard as she could, with all her anger behind it.
It was exceptionally shocking—and gratifying—when he went down.
Sean reached her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, laughing and dancing her in a circle. “I’m crazy about you,” he said, his voice more exuberant than she’d ever heard it before.
His excitement had to be the aftereffects of adrenaline, but she’d take it. As Cash wrapped thick ropes around Beau’s hands and feet, Anna let herself lean back into Sean’s arms.
“You’re everything to me, Anna George,” he said, his voice roughening as he pulled her close. “Everything, you hear? And I’m not letting anything bad happen to you, ever again.”
Low Country Hero Page 27
