“What the fuck?”
The second boat’s speed and direction is too purposeful to be anything other than trouble. Which means that Drago or Renata has called for backup.
My money’s on Drago. But recent experience has taught me not to underestimate the dark-haired siren who had lured me into bed only to cuff me to it.
I probably should be angrier than I actually am, but the afterglow of the sex is still circulating through me, making everything seem murky and unclear.
I leap onto the jet ski, bobbing in the water, and crank the key. Nothing. Dead engine.
“Fuck!” I roar. I release the key and try again. Once again, the engine doesn’t respond.
Out in the harbor, I watch the speedboat meet the yacht, leaving a trail of sea foam in its wake. I hear the distinct pop of gunfire.
One more try. “Come on, come on, come on, motherfucker…” I growl to the machine.
It starts to sputter, cough… and then it roars to life.
“Collin!” I bellow. He races down the dock and jumps onto the back. The second he’s on board, I rip back the throttle and we go slicing out through the waves.
Another gunshot. Plumes of fire, too.
“Boss,” Collin says, “the second boat looks like it’s moving.”
Narrowing my eyes, I push the jet ski to full speed. The engine complains loudly, but I don’t fucking care. The second boat is already speeding away. At this rate, we might not catch it.
That’s when I see the gigantic curls of smoke rising into the air from my yacht.
They’ve set the whole thing on fire.
I don’t stop. We bounce along the surface of the water until we reach the burning yacht. The second boat is now a blip in the distance, long past our reach, but I manage to catch the name emblazoned on the side.
The Argo. A Greek name. Which means Drago had called Rokiades.
We’ll never catch them in this contraption. It would be a lost cause to try. But maybe there’s something on the sinking ship that will be of use to me in the future.
“Boss?” Collin asks. “What’s the plan?”
“We get on board,” I tell him. “Check for clues.”
I stop the jet ski a few feet away from the yacht.
“Stay here,” I tell Collin. “I’ll be right back.”
Before he can protest, I dive into the ocean and swim to the yacht. I shimmy aboard, bracing myself against the heat that hits me from all sides.
But I’m more affected by the loss of the bodies in the second room. I’d been hoping to get those bodies back to their families in Ireland so that they could have proper funerals. Instead, these poor souls are about to be incinerated in a pyre at sea when they should be getting laid to rest in the land of their ancestors.
Rokiades is going to fucking pay for that.
I look past the curls of fire and notice the body slumped in the center of the top deck. It doesn’t take me long to figure out who it is.
I walk over to him, ignoring the way the heat licks at my skin like it’s ready to devour me whole. Drago blinks his eyes open and I notice the fear ripples across them as he recognizes me.
“You fucking idiot,” I growl at him. “Where is Renata?”
He shakes his head. I look down and notice he’s been shot in the leg. His pant leg is drenched with so much blood.
“Help…” he stammers. “Help…”