Page 22 of Kai (Alpha Heroes #13)

Cece

My stomach plummeted, and a rush of fear tensed every muscle in my body. The mercs were coming. I wrung my hands together. How had they found us?

Kai scrolled through a series of live images, moving from one to the other.

His fingers pounded the keyboard as dotted lines popped up between the moving red blimp on the radar and his small, horseshoe-shaped island.

The single blue blimp stationed at an inlet that notched the island’s west coast clued me in. It marked Serenity’s spot on the map.

The red blimp seemed far from us, yet Kai seemed intent on tracking it. He kept pulling up satellite images, getting distance measurements, and trying to get a closer view of what looked like a boat to me.

“Is that them?” I croaked through my tight throat.

“Probably.” He glanced at me. His fingers froze on the keys, and the tightness in his face softened. He reached out and squeezed my hand, lending me the heat of his skin and the courage that flashed in his gaze. “No worries, Sorceress. I’m here. I’m gonna take care of this.”

“Um… ah… but…” Stop quavering! I ordered my voice. I hadn’t recovered from the shock of the recent conversation out on the deck, and now this?

“They’re still far out.” He returned his attention to the screens. “I’ve got plenty of time to intersect, but I’ve gotta move now.”

“Move?” I mumbled, even though he was already trotting down the stairs to his berth. “Intersect?”

I didn’t get an answer. The sounds of him opening a drawer and moving about drifted from his room.

I leaned into the screen and studied the dotted lines.

Numbers flickered above them, showing distance, speed, and time.

A countdown. My pulse ticked up. We may have time to run, but the mercs were on the way.

Kai stalked out of his berth. In just a few moments, he’d changed clothes.

He wore his tactical vest over his black, full-body stinger swimsuit, meshed water shoes, and a small, watertight ruck that hung from his shoulder.

His expression was one of pure resolve and total focus.

After opening the sliders, he stepped out onto the deck.

I, of course, followed him.

My mind was about to burst with all kinds of questions, but I had to admire the strapping figure he cut in the afternoon light, the way the spandex molded to his perfect body, the elegance of his precise, purpose-driven movements. He was strong but limber, muscular but in a discreet, graceful way.

The lust inside me sang, hitting a high note.

The connection I didn’t want to believe in pulled on me like a bungee cord.

Repressing a shiver of what could only be erotic delight, I realized how strongly our conversation had affected me.

My body moved faster than my mind. Lust sounded swell to my clit.

But after spouting out my life’s no-love, no-man, no-relationship manifesto, had I missed my chance?

Yeah. You did . I wanted to kick myself in the ass.

Kai moved fast. Danger radiated from him. He was in full special operator mode. Even so, he was so sexy I wondered if my panties had spontaneously caught fire. The timing of this lust attack was most inconvenient, but at least it gave me a breather from the fear.

“For you.” He set my handgun on the table, shaking me out of my wanton state. “I dried and cleaned it after our escape from the lighthouse. It’s in working order. I made sure of it. It’s also loaded.”

He extracted his carbine from its case and slid it into a waterproof shoot-through bag. This looked bad, especially when he stuffed his watertight ruck with several magazines of ammo.

“I’ll have eyes on Serenity while I’m out.

” He tapped the plastic-encased cell he’d velcroed to his vest. “If you detect any threats, if you see or hear anyone or anything approaching Serenity , know that I’m on my way to you.

If this happens, buy me time. Hide, and if necessary, use your gun for protection. Got it?”

“Yes, sure, but…” An irrational fear of being alone slammed me in the chest. I’d been alone for three years. Why was I suddenly so scared?

Because I didn’t want him to get hurt, or worse, get killed.

I could sense Kai moving away from me. He was about to leave me behind, trapped in a boat, surrounded by water, cut off from land, from escape, and perhaps most importantly, from him. An invisible cord stretched and strained between us. Anytime now, it was going to snap.

The words blurted out of my mouth. “Can I come with you?”

He took a knee, worked his nimble fingers to attach a rope and a buoy to his ruck, then looked up. A slight frown marred his striking features. “You don’t like the water, remember?”

My face fell, and the breath rushed out of my lungs. He was right.

He drew his eyebrows together. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I lied.

I gritted my teeth, frustrated with myself.

I couldn’t swim. I’d only be a burden to him.

“Useless” and “helpless” were words I abhorred.

“Confused” was also on that list. Another anxiety-inducing thought hit me out of left field.

It wasn’t a rational thought, but rather a punch of runaway emotion.

What if he’d found me so intractable, so damaged, hostile, and unpleasant that he was leaving me for good? What if he had already given up on me?

“Tell me the truth.” I clenched my hands at my sides and tightened them until my knuckles hurt. “Are you planning on coming back?”

“Of course I’m coming back.” He straightened to his full height. The affronted look he fixed on me could’ve started multiple fires, including the one currently flaring between my legs. “My job is to protect you. There isn’t a scenario where I don’t come back for you.”

“There is a scenario.” I tried to suppress the fear pounding in my chest. “A scenario where you die.”

“I’m not dying today, and neither are you.

” He reached out, cupped my cheek, and brushed the edge of my face with the pad of his thumb.

“Cece.” Coming from his lips, my nickname sounded gentle and appealing.

“You’ve been through a lot, but don’t forget.

I’m here. I’ll protect you with my life if necessary. ”

Oh, God.

“I don’t want your life.” I shocked myself when I tasted tears at the back of my throat.

What I really wanted were his kisses and his touch, long meals featuring fresh ingredients and interesting conversation, and relief from the lust torturing me at every level, even though I couldn’t, shouldn’t, and didn’t deserve any of that.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured me. “All I ask is that you stay on this vessel while I’m away.”

“It’s not like I’m going to go swimming or something.” Bitterness sharpened my voice as I stepped away from his bone-melting touch and swept a hand toward the water surrounding us on all sides.

The corners of his eyes crinkled, but if he had something to say, he chose not to share it.

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” I asked.

For three years, I’d had nothing to lose other than my life. But now, the stakes were so much higher.

“Hear me out,” he said. “ Serenity is under a visual and thermal cloak. If all goes well, even if the mercs come this way, they can’t see you.

So, stay put until I get back.” His grin turned wicked.

“Maybe when I return, we can revisit our conversation. Perhaps you’ll kiss me again, to test your sisters’ hypothesis, or even out of extreme boredom. Hey, a guy can hope, right?”

Butterflies took flight in my stomach. No, the flutters weren’t butterflies anymore. They were flocks of hummingbirds flapping their wings at top speed. I bit down on the twitch of my lips. Did he ever give up? The contrast between his optimism and my bleakness swelled the tears in my eyes.

“I mean it, Kai.” I held back the waterworks. “What am I to do with myself?”

“You’re so tired, Cece, so wound up.” The compassion in his voice almost broke me. “Maybe you could do absolutely nothing for a change.”

“I don’t do nothing,” I spat, holding it together, but only barely.

He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. “You do now.”

He surprised me by planting a chaste kiss on my forehead before he turned away. I braced on a chair, pretending the sweet kiss hadn’t tilted the axis of the earth and melted my kneecaps. I felt as gooey and hot as a grilled cheese sandwich. This was becoming a habit.

He grabbed his ruck and the buoy from the deck, descended the steps, and tossed his gear overboard.

The little buoy popped up and floated atop the cove’s tranquil waters with the ruck in tow.

Kai knelt on the bottom step and tied the lead line to the ladder.

He’d brought so much color into my dreary world.

He wasn’t even gone yet, and I already missed him.

For a moment, he crouched there, as if contemplating the water, with his broad back to me. Then he rose, blew out an exhale, and faced me. “You can come with me if you’d like.”

I widened my eyes in surprise. “I can?”

“As long as you’re willing to ride the surfboard and take on a hard, fast, and steep hike.”

“Yes!” Relief gushed through me. “I’ll ride the surfboard.” To the moon and back, if it meant sticking with him. “I won’t even cuss you out loud.”

A warning flashed in his gaze. “It could get hairy out there, dangerous.”

“I don’t mind hairy.” I could handle it. “And I’m from Wyoming, so I can hike.”

He furrowed his brow. “This could also entail a lot of hurry up and wait.”

“I can hurry up and wait with you.” I rushed to the sliders. “Give me a sec.”

As soon as I got to my berth, I stripped and donned my quick-dry leggings, a dark rash guard, socks, and sneakers.

If there was a steep hike involved, I would be ready for it.

On my way out, I swiped a baseball cap to ward off the sun.

By the time I got back to the deck, Kai had his gear ready and his surfboard in the water.

“Flotation device.” He pointed at the ultralight life jacket on the table, the same one I’d worn before. “Ready?” he asked after I strapped it on.

“Ready,” I assured him, pulling on the yellow tab. “And…”

“And?” He stood at the edge of the deck, facing me.

I swallowed my pride. “Thanks for letting me tag along.”

“Never thank me for hearing you or for trying to understand how you feel,” he said. “It’s the least you deserve.”

His words eased the pressure in my chest. His insight made me feel seen, accepted as I was, fears and all.

The verdict was out. Kai was not an asshole.

He was the opposite of that, and since he’d already proved he wasn’t an idiot, a gold digger, or an asshole, this meant he was impossible to categorize.

Unless I made up a new category: none of the above.

He was unlike anyone I’d ever met before, and yes, we had a connection. I didn’t understand it, but I liked it. For the first time ever, I wanted to connect with someone outside my family. With Kai.

He turned and faced the water. The muscles of his calves and thighs flexed as he bent his knees and jumped.

He dove into the sea in perfect form, arms outstretched, fingers and toes pointed.

His body pierced through the surface with barely a splash.

Gliding beneath the water, he turned around and emerged next to the surfboard.

He brought it to the edge of the steps. After fastening his weapon to his back, he steadied the board with one arm and tapped the surface.

I took a deep breath, donned the baseball cap, and after marching down the steps, went on all fours and transferred to the board. Resting on my shins, I nodded to Kai.

He hooked the buoy and his ruck to the back of the surfboard, then fastened the board’s leash to a small harness attached to his shoulders. Turning on his belly, he kicked his legs, swung his arms, and dipped his hands in the water, propelling himself across the cove, towing his load—including me.

He swam hard and fast, and the surfboard followed a few feet behind him, slicing through the water, drawing small ripples in its wake.

He closed the distance to the beach at incredible speed.

His strokes were perfect. Why couldn’t I swim like him?

Why couldn’t I be like him—kind, insightful, and chill?

As we approached the shore, I replayed the conversation we’d just had in my mind. I was ready to face off against whatever danger awaited us. The mercs frightened me, but the question echoing in my head terrified me even more. “What if we’re meant to be together?”