Page 42 of Undertow

I can’t go back.

But you have to.

I can’t!

The air in the stale room has become unbreathable.

Lifehas become fucking unbreathable.

You have to, Shaw. Your life has never been yours. You will always belong to someone else.

Fear is a scratch not a scar. Temporary. It will heal. You will survive. You always do.

I do. Even when I don’t want to.

Two hours later, I’m back in the basement of a McArthur property, being filed to a scrap of a human being.

8

TRAITOR

I’m barely through the gate to the Palmetto resort when Merrick and Scarlett’s fiancé,Patrick, are by my side to escort me to the penthouse. It’s not surprising, given the news I delivered last night, but that doesn’t stop the nerves from climbing in sync with the elevator.

Merrick has said almost nothing to me since picking me up, clearly avoiding eye contact.

Did he pass along my information and plan to McArthur? They know I’ve got everything under control, right?

A cold wave sweeps through me as we wait. I don’t like not being in control, and lately it seems like I’ve been anchored in chaos.

At the top floor, I step out, expecting a private meeting with McArthur. Instead, he’s joined by Scarlett… and two other soldiers.

There’s only one reason for this much muscle.

I keep my attention on the boss as I force myself forward.

“Shaw. Good to see you.” His controlled tone allows for no clues, and I swallow my unease.

“Hello, sir. I assume Merrick told you about the latest developments and why I’ve returned to Palmetto Acres?”

“The Hartfords think you’re working for them.” There’s a thick film of loathing around the word “them.”

Julia’s explanation of the history between these warring families clarified a lot about the motivation behind their rivalry and subsequent objectives. Each one wants me to find a way to eliminate the other for control of something. On the surface it’s territorial, but my world doesn’t operate on the surface. It’s the story that lurks in the shadows I need to uncover. What are theyreallyfighting to control? It can’t be tourist dollars.

Illegal gambling isn’t even on the short list of criminal activities fueling their power. I already know the McArthur empire runs drugs and guns. And I’ve seen enough to add prostitution, murder, and extortion to the mix. Hell, in many ways I’ve personally been used for all three.

As for the Hartfords, I’m still not certain about their game, but I have a good idea. After I confirmed three more businesses were cash-only this morning, it’s a pretty safe bet they’re involved in some kind of laundering operation. On a secluded island in the Gulf of Mexico, it’s almost a guarantee they’re tied to a cartel—or multiple.

Whoever controls this island, probably controls a lot more beyond its liquid borders.

What all of that means for my plan remains to be seen, but the stakes are even higher than I thought. Astronomically high. Destiny-changing high.

This could be it. This could be the chance you’ve been waiting for.

“We have the perfect opportunity to manipulate them,” I say beneath McArthur’s dark look.

Merrick and Patrick watch with rapt attention from my left and right. I don’t have a visual of the two soldiers behind me, but I suspect that’s by design. It’s becoming apparent I’m not here for a pat on the back.

“Is that why you told them about our gambling operation?” McArthur asks.