Page 2 of Lethal Threat

“I’m trying not to think about it!” I yell over the noise.

My eyes have to stay on the churning black water in front of me. The island has to be close.

But where?

The darkness is too thick, too filled with misty haze. Conditions are terrible.

My skin is clammy when I use the back of my hand to brush water away from my eyes. The screen of my phone is blurry. I wipe my eyes again and wipe the screen. “Damn. The GPS isn’t tracking.”

I entered the coordinates of the location on the GPS before we left shore. But now all I’ve got is a spinning icon.

Of all times to lose my signal.

I crane my neck back and search the sky.

No stars. Too much cloud cover. Celestial navigation won’t work either.

I know better than to get myself into this kind of mess. But here I am. Fueled on desperation and heartbreak.

Squinting harder, I find the lights on the distant shoreline to try to keep my bearings until the app on my phone resumes. This gives me a second of relief.

We’re heading south. I generally know where I’m going. But that little icon on the GPS app sure would make me feel better.

A stronger gust whips water all around us. The chill from the spray hits my neck and makes my skin goosebump. Evelyn draws her coat up with one hand as she holds on with the other.

I swear, if I find Bryan tonight, I’m going to lock him?—

What’s that sound?

I freeze and strain to listen. My sixth sense starts screaming. “Is that a boat?”

No one in their right mind is out on this water tonight.

I spin my head around like an owl, searching the darkness. That groan—something mechanical is getting louder.

Then I see it. A vessel, larger than ours, moving at a fast clip. Right at us.

The boat has no running lights. It’s coming too fast.

My heart plummets as the shadow rises from the crushing blackness. I turn the wheel and push the throttle forward.

The larger vessel changes course too.

I do it again and make a sharp angle with the boat.

They continue to bear down on us.

Terror is pumping through me now. My knees shake as I snatch my phone off the holder on the console, and make a call I didn’t think I’d ever agree to make.

“Siri, call Cole.”

Beep. Beep. Beep. The call doesn’t connect.

I try again.Please let my phone work. Someone needs to know what’s happening. He’ll know what to do.

That black shadow gets bigger. The occupants of the boat finally come into view. Three large men’s silhouettes.

Siri says, “Calling now.”