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“Steinbeck—”
“I’ll be back, sis.”He looked at Phoenix then.“Don’t even think about ditching us.”
Her mouth opened.“Where am I going to go?”
He shook his head, gave a small snort.
Interesting.
They changed places and Steinbeck took the helm.“Ready?”
“Go.”Declan held on to the bench as Steinbeck puttered through the darkness, all the way to the swim deck.He pulled up and Declan rolled off into the shadows.
“Get that tender out no matter what happens.”Then Steinbeck gave him a thumbs-up, and for a second, it hinted at a friendship Declan had thought they had.
Stein sped off into the darkness.
Declan ran over to the garage, where his tender sat under the main deck.He punched in the key code, and the garage door opened.The tender sat inside on rollers.He unhooked the security straps, and the tender started to roll out.
He pulled it, then got behind it and pushed.
An explosion thundered into the darkness.He looked up and the sky lit with flames.
Hello, distraction.
Gunshots, then shouting sounded from the bridge, and Declan kept his eyes on the tender.The six-seater speedboat should have enough gas to get them the one hundred miles to shore.Which shore, he didn’t know, but the boat had GPS and hopefully extra fuel.
Operation Escape the Yacht accomplished.
Almost.
The tender slipped into the water, and he jumped onto the back deck, letting the boat float out to sea.
Gunshots pinged the water beside him, and Declan rolled down behind the bench, then crept up to the captain’s seat.The key hung from the ignition and he turned it.The motor gurgled and spat.Died.More shouts erupted behind him, and he spotted one of the remaining gunmen running down the stairs.
He turned back to the ignition.“Come on, baby.Help a guy out.”It spat, choked, and then caught.Gas fumes clouded the night.He gunned it.The boat’s wheel nearly shot out of his grip, but he kept hold and righted it, then headed out into the darkness where he’d last seen Austen and Phoenix-Ashley—whoever.
From the yacht, gunshots still rang out.
Glancing back, he spotted flames in the ocean.Steinbeck had somehow set the sinking Jet Ski on fire.
Had probably taken off the fuel line, used the spark plugs to ignite it.Smart.
He turned around.Searched the night for the other Jet Ski.He spotted it, a winking light in the darkness.He motored toward it, shots still echoing from the yacht, but he kept his light off, the other guiding him.
Pulling up beside it, he’d barely throttled down when Austen pulled herself onto the back of the boat.“Where’s Steinbeck?”
He shook his head.
“He’s in the water!”Phoenix said.She turned her Jet Ski, stood up.
A fist formed in his gut.
“In ten minutes, turn your light on,” Phoenix said, and shot off toward the yacht.
Austen sat on the side, her expression unreadable in the darkness.
“You okay?”