He’s precious to me. He’s…family.
And maybe something more than family, but I can’t think about that right now. I can’t hold the fact that I might be falling for Nick and the possibility that he’s gone in my head at the same time.
“Hurry, this way!” a deep voice calls from the chaos on the dock, where native workers and tourists are abandoning their watercraft and vacation activities in a rush toward the beach.
I spot the man I noticed earlier by the lifeguard stand, my Union Ten backup, and every muscle in my body goes tense.
Alleged backup.
If Blaire sent him, he could very well be another threat.
I squat low on the warm wood, scanning my surroundings for a weapon, but there’s nothing nearby except the metal mooring used to secure the boat. I glance back at the man’s dark, lightly lined face. He’s older than I initially estimated, and when his brown eyes meet mine, he seems to instantly grasp my situation and lifts his hands, slow and nonthreatening.
“I saw her.” He motions toward the boat bound for open water. “Blaire. I’ll help you stop her. I have a weapon.” He nods to his left. I glance that way but quickly jerk my gaze back to his face, unsure if he’s trying to distract me. “In my Jet Ski. In the waterproof compartment under the seat,” he clarifies. “You can have it and leave me here, but I promise I had no idea she was planning something like this. Neville is my point of contact, and he’s still above board. I’m sure of it.”
I hesitate another beat, torn, but I really have no choice but to take him at his word, not if I want a snowball’s chance in hell of getting to Nick before that boat is out of reach.
I nod and stand. “All right. I’ll take the gun and the Jet Ski. Stay here and contact Neville to explain what’s happened. See how long it will take to get more agents on the island.”
“Will do, but there should already be a team waiting for the boat by the airport dock. Neville said he had a feeling we’d need more backup. If you can get there, you’ll be covered.” He steps away as I kick off my remaining sandal. I lost the other one when I jumped off the boat.
Though I’m dripping water from my soaked bathing suit cover-up, I hurry barefoot down the dock. The man keeps his distance as we move toward the fleet of Jet Skis bobbing at the end of the pier and stays a good six feet away while he points at a souped-up beast.
“Here’s the key.” He pulls a spiral elastic from his shorts and holds it out to me. “I’d throw it to you, but I’m afraid it might slip through the gaps in the dock, and we don’t have time to spare. I know Nick. Worked with him last year. I’d hate to see him go out like this, not if there’s still a chance to turn this around.”
I press my lips together, weighing his words in the few seconds I can bear to waste.
But my gut swears he’s telling the truth.
I step in, taking the key from his open palm, then open the locked seat of the Jet Ski and reach inside. In a small dry bag, I find a Sig P365, a delicate gun I’m familiar with. Quickly, I check to make sure it’s loaded and the thumb safety’s on before turning to my backup. “Tell Neville I’ll check in as soon as I can.”
“I will,” he says. “I’ll touch base and then grab a boat and come after you if I can. Be careful. If Nick’s out of commission, you won’t have cover on the open water or support until I get there. Stand down if you—”
“I know. Thank you,” I cut him off as I strap on a bright orange life vest and wedge the gun into the tight front closure for easy access.
I’m not going to stand down.
I won’t have to.
Nick’s going to be holding his own against Blaire and Stefano. Hell, he might have everything wrapped up by the time I get to the boat.
Even as I lift a hand in thanks to my backup agent and slam the Jet Ski into reverse, spinning around in the choppy water, I know I’m in the grips of magical thinking.
Blaire has a gun; Nick doesn’t. Stefano has arms the size of Easter hams; Nick doesn’t. Nick will be worried about protecting Beatrice; Blaire and Stefano don’t give a shit about collateral damage.
Nick’s at multiple disadvantages, but I have to believe he’s okay.
I have to believe we’re going to get a chance to become better friends, to remain family, maybe even to finish what we started this morning. Just a few hours ago, I was torn. Yes, I wanted him, but I could name a dozen reasons Nick and I shouldn’t sleep together.