Page 57 of Hate Wrecked
ROWAN
“So, how long have you had that boat?” I ask Butch, keeping my tone casual even as my heart pounds. Every second I stall, every second he talks, is another second for Riley.
He glances toward the water. “Year or so.”
“Anyone question you about it? I mean, it’s obvious you can’y afford a boat like that.”
“Is it?” he scratches his jaw. “Not where I come from. Where I come from, we know who deserves what. I paid the price for it.”
“What were you looking for out here, anyway?”
He lifts his chin, eyes gleaming. “Peace. Isolation. Good place to plant new seeds and watch ’em grow.”
I nod slowly. “You were worried someone would try to take it from you.”
He smirks. “We were minding our own on Mirage Isle. But the wife? She was fucking around on her husband. Got him killed. A sneaky little bitch. We gave her the burial she deserved. The kind liars deserve. Now, are you a liar, Rowan Finn?” He looks at his gun, then into my eyes.
“Butch…” I say carefully. “You know the world’s looking, right?”
He laughs, low. “World’s always looking. They don’t see shit unless you show them.”
“And what about Captain Daniels?” I press. “Someone’s got to be looking for him, right?”
Butch’s mouth twitches, the first sign of discomfort I’ve seen. “Daniels knew what was what. Always did. You think we just stumbled across this place?” He steps closer. “Everything’s been lined up for a while, kid. No one will miss him.”
I swallow hard, anger swelling, but I keep my face neutral.
“People noticed when Glenne went missing. People notice when a Finn’s involved.
Poor little rich girl gone. Shady daddy’s son missing too.
It wasn’t hard for the media to spin a story.
Bodyguard background…lotta secrets in your family tree, boy.
Made it really easy for the world to wonder who took her.
Heard you were obsessed with her some years ago. You sure as hell didn’t just meet her.”
My hand clenches at my side.
He steps even closer. “Question is…when they finally find the wreckage, what story are you gonna tell, Rowan Finn? One where you’re the hero? Or one where we helped you out of here?” Butch’s grin widens—then he looks past me, toward the trees. His expression sharpens.
“That’s a lot of gun for one guy,” I remark. “You sure you can handle it?”
“I can handle a lot,” Butch snarls, before looking beyond me to the tree line.
“So you know about my background, then? I can’t believe they left you here alone with me. Sounds like they want you out of the way.”
He looks back at me. “Neither of them can man the boat.”
“Fine crew you have.”
“Fine lady you have,” Butch snarls, walking toward me. “Pretty as her pictures, I bet. Might be a little rough around the edges by now, though, right?” He steps closer. “I cannot wait to be the hero who saves Dane Williams and Desi Monroe’s daughter.”
I remain silent, letting the allure of a reward distract him.
And then, from deep in the jungle, comes a sharp, terrified scream.
Butch’s head whips toward the sound, his body angling away from me—and I move.