FULL NOVELXO The Reluctant Wife: Chapter 53
That was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Mainly because I wanted to teach her a lesson. I wanted to surprise her, and I admit, I surprised myself too.
The water splashes over us, but we’re in the shallow end, so it comes up to my shoulders and hers.
‘Oh, my god, you didn’t—’ She glances at me in shock, droplets of water sticking to her eyelashes from where the water splashed over us. ‘How could you do—’
I close my mouth over hers and absorb the rest of the words. She tightens her hold and melts into me. The sweetness of her taste, the curves of her body trembling against mine, and the way her heart beats against mine, causes my body to turn to steel.
The scene around us begins to fade as we stare into each other’s eyes, so when a column of fire explodes into the air, I’m sure I imagined it. The boom of sound sweeps over us, followed by the squawking of the birds from the trees. There’s no mistaking that sound. Every muscle in my body snaps to attention.
‘What was that?’ She clings to me. ‘Ryot was that—’
‘A bomb. On one of the boats,’ I say grimly.
Quentin! Tyler! Concern for them tightens my chest and turns my stomach into a churning mess. I have no doubt, whoever caused that is coming for her. I’ll die before I let them hurt her.
I shove the panic away and reach inside to find that inner core of calm that will help me figure out what to do next. I move toward the edge of the pool and hoist, first her, then myself onto it, then head toward the house, pulling her behind me.
Another muffled boom reaches us, this time from the other side of the island.
Her grip on my hand tightens. ‘Is that—’
‘The second boat.” Adrenaline laces my blood. I pull her inside the house, shut the backdoor and lock it behind us. Releasing her hand, I take the stairs two at a time and reach our bedroom.
Ignoring the sex-scented sheets—now a reminder of just how much I allowed myself to be distracted—I head for the closet.
By the time she bursts into the room, I’m dressed in dry clothes and pulling on my shoes. I reach for the drawer on the nightstand next to my side of the bed, pull the drawer open, and grab my Glock. Checking it, I slip it into the back of my waistband then nod toward the closet. “Get dressed.”
She races toward it, and once inside, begins to strip. I follow her, then draw in a breath. She’s going to hate me for what I’m going to do, but it’s the only way to protect her. As long as I can keep her safe, that’s what matters. ‘I’m sorry.’
She looks up at me, pausing midway to putting on a pair of jeans. ‘What do you—’ Her gaze widens as I shut the door and latch it.
‘What the hell, Ryot?” she yells. “You can’t do this to me.’
‘I don’t have a choice; I need to keep you safe, Empress.’
‘Damn you, Ryot.’ She bangs on the door with enough force that it rattles.
I wince. Then, not allowing myself to think further on it, I turn and grab my phone from where I left it charging next to the bed. Missed calls from Quentin and Tyler. Goddam.
I dial first one back, then the other, not surprised when I don’t get a response. I call Brody, who picks up on the first ring. ‘Hadn’t thought I’d hear from you—’
‘Quentin and Tyler’s boats were blown up. We’ve been compromised.’
There’s a beat, then he snaps, ‘I’m on it.’ The phone goes dead.
I slip it into my pocket and head down the stairs. Keeping to the wall I inch forward in the direction of the front door.
Through the open doorway I make out the burning wreck of one of the boats in the distance. There’s no other movement around the house. But the prickling on the nape of my neck, the way the hair on my forearms bristles, the low hum in my ears… They tell me the worst is yet to come.
I pull out my gun and hold it in readiness as I take position by the front door. Sweat trickles down my spine, and my senses home in on scanning the scene in front of me.
Whatever happened on that boat, I have to hope Quentin and Tyler and their teams found a way to escape. They are too battle-seasoned not to have been alerted in time.
Clutching my gun, I bend, allowing my muscles to relax, getting into the zone, pretending I’m back on a mission. I peek out the door again, but nothing moves. The wind rustles the leaves on the trees, and the surf pounds in the background. Outside, the sun has set.
I flatten myself against the door, then slide out and against the wall of the house. I shuffle forward until I reach the next edge and peek around. The moon is beginning to rise. The patio and the pool stretch out in front of me, but I don’t see anyone. I can bet they’re around though.
I scan the surroundings, taking in any spaces where someone could hide, not that there are that many. It’s one of the reasons I chose this island for our honeymoon. It should have made it difficult for anyone to get close without one of us spotting them. Still, they managed to get to the boats and are certainly on this island. But where?
My phone buzzes, I pull it out to see a message.
Brody: I’m on a helo with paramedics on board. We’ll be out to you within ten minutes.
Thankfully, Brody stayed in Verenza, in case of just such an emergency like this. I just need to hold out until then.
A sound behind me has me spinning around. I spot a blur of white and shoot at the same time that a bullet whizzes past my ear. I race inside the house, managing to take cover behind the wall. I take aim at the place I saw the movement and fire off another shot.
It shoots through the dune grass, raising sand in its wake. Once again, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. Goddam!
Sweat trickles into my eyes, and I blink it away. My heart hammers in my chest. My pulse thuds at my temples. Every cell in my body is alive and vigilant. My shoulder muscles bunch. That low hum in my ears screeches out a warning, seconds before a hail of bullets is fired at me. Fuck.
One of them slams into the wall of the house; one whizzes past me and embeds in the furniture. A third buries itself in the door. Then there’s silence. All the bullets have come from one source. I’m fairly certain there’s only one person out there.
The moon hasn’t fully risen yet. It’s bright enough for me to see, but it still means there are patches of darkness wherever the ground dips. Staying low, I train my gun again in the direction of the firing and, letting my instincts take over, I squeeze out three shots in response. There’s a yell, then silence. Gotcha.
I pull back and survey the landscape. The fire on the boat in the distance stands out like a beacon. I pull out my phone and glance at the time. Five minutes to go until the chopper arrives.
I scan the surroundings and make out what looks like a fallen body next to a grassy knoll marking the edge of the perimeter of the house which gives way to sand. The form on the ground is unmoving, which is not to say they aren’t armed and dangerous. I stay still, watching them for any sign of movement, and there’s none. I draw in a breath, then another. I shouldn’t go out. I need to stay here until help arrives. And yet, the need to see the bastard’s face, to find out who they are and make sure I’ve put them out of commission, builds in me. I glance at the burning boat, and anger grips me.
The people behind those attacks on the boats may have killed members of my family. It’s because of their threats, my wife has had to seek protection. Their actions traumatized her and forced her to hide from the public gaze. Just for the torment they caused her, for the distress that, no doubt, will have left a mark on her psyche, I must make sure they can never cause her further agony.
Taking advantage of the growing darkness, I slip out of the house and approach the person without making a sound, gun at the ready to shoot. When I reach them, I take in their features and my jaw drops. It’s a woman dressed in a scuba diving suit.
I’ve been trained to shoot to kill, but the fact that it’s a young woman who has her life in front of her gives me pause. My fingers falter on the trigger, a costly error, for her eyes flip open.
She smiles, a grim, vengeance-filled thinning of her lip. Then, she raises her gun and shoots.