Nothing.
The pilots ignored me, their chatter of flying maneuvers and technical speak filling my ears but forbidding me the right to talk.
Sully!
“Please…” I ran my fingers over the headset, trying to find a button that would allow a two-way conversation. “Please turn around.”
No reply.
Nothing but their clipped curses and crackling feedback.
Daring to squish tight against the window, I looked down, down, down toward a black, black ocean and the flickering lights of Sully’s shores.
And my heart died as the spray of bullets that’d attacked us aimed for land instead.
A morbid firework, seeking victims, streaking with comet fire toward the man I loved.
Death in the darkness.
An enemy he couldn’t see.
Sully!
Chapter Eleven
“GET ME A GODDAMN radio!”
I ran up the jetty toward the guards lined up on my shores. Each had a machete, shotgun, and semi-automatic. Each was well-versed in hand-to-hand combat as well as being accurate shooters.
“Aim at the boat!” Cal ran beside me, yelling orders, preparing for war. “Sink those motherfuckers!”
The men moved toward the tide, a march of weapons and wrath.
A man ran toward me and slapped a walkie-talkie in my palm. “Here.”
Spinning to stare at the sky again, flinching as more bullet-fire shot toward the flashing light blatantly giving away the helicopter’s location, I pressed the radio button, and snarled, “Captain Jondal, turn off your fucking anti-collision light!”
A crackle of feedback hissed while everything I was as a man scrambled.
The pain at saying goodbye.
The rage at Serigala.
The suffocating fury at Drake’s tricks.
Fuck!
More gunfire, all aimed at shooting Eleanor from the sky. My heart ceased beating as I dropped my stare, following where the bullets had come from.
Squinting into the distance, I saw a boat ghosting on the horizon. No lights. No announcement. Just sly unfairness and my bastard brother who’d not even honoured his time for battle.
He’s an hour fucking early.
The gentlemen’s code broken because he was a cunt and I was once again a motherfucking fool.
Another spritz of bullets aimed straight for Eleanor.
The helicopter’s spotlight made them the perfect target.
“Captain! Turn off your goddamn lights!”
I thought I’d saved her.
Instead, I’d put her directly into harm’s way.
My rage ignited. A rush of wildfire through my veins, and this time…this time I didn’t try to leash it.
I let go.
I allowed heat and hate to lick through me.
I thirsted for Drake’s death.
I wanted his heart limp and lifeless in my hand.
I wanted to cut up his corpse and decorate every island in my atoll with pieces of him.
The helicopter suddenly vanished, and the radio came alive in my palm. “Done. We’re out of range, sir. We’ve gone stealth.”
My stomach clenched, fear blending with my fury. “Is she okay? Did you get hit?”
“A few pockmarks. Nothing serious. Cargo is intact.”
Cargo?
Fucking hell, it was my world up there.
A woman who’d turned me into a useless, stupid idiot.
“Get out of here. Fly directly to Java.”
“Copy.”
The radio went dead just as a crack of violence aimed not at the sky but my shores.
A few of my men grunted, tumbling forward as blood spurted from wounds.
For fucking shit.
My temper broke through the veneer I wielded. I bulldozed through my decorum and failed attempts at being civilised.
My eyes locked on the boat ahead. A boat that should never have been able to come so close to my shores, manned by a cocksucker who I should’ve killed decades ago.
Cal yelled at the guards, giving instruction to return fire.
I wasn’t needed.
He had his job…and I have mine.
Stepping into the fugue of fury, I ripped off my shirt and welcomed the insidious pull of demonic instincts. I embraced the part of me that I’d always run from—the part of me that tainted me as a man and kept me firmly ruled as a beast.
Unbuckling my belt, I strode toward the sea.
Drake would not be allowed onto my shores.
No fucking way.
As warm ocean lapped around my ankles and seeped into my shoes, I shed the final part of myself. My teeth felt sharper. My senses acute. My mouth watered for gore. I was wrong when I thought I’d harness the wolf I’d named Serigala for.
Tonight, I’d become a shark.
The monster I’d swam with so many times before.
A crack of bullets returned fire on Drake, shooting out to sea. I kicked off my shoes and buried my feet into wet sand. I ripped off my trousers and trembled with the primordial urge to shed off my human skin and hunt.
To dive into the ocean.
To swim to him.
To drag him into the deep.
My gun fell, splashing into the salt, useless for where I was going. The sea lapped around my calves, welcoming me back into my domain.
My hand curled around the radio, still tight in my grip. I went to throw it away…but…
I pressed the call button, wading deeper into warm water dressed in just black boxer-briefs. Once I dived into the sea, any remaining humanity inside me would vanish. I wanted it. I hungered for the freedom of no longer obeying rules and civility.