Page 21

TWENTY-ONE

EMILY

I will not watch Ryder die in front of me. I will not let him die, period, even if that means ruining his heroic attempt to take the fall for both of us.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him as his expression turns crestfallen, “but this is completely ridiculous.”

Steeling myself for whatever comes next, I direct my attention toward Killian. “Ryder doesn’t have the diamond,” I confess. “I do.”

The archaeologist crosses his arms over his chest, one eyebrow raised. “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Emily darling?”

His repeated use of darling makes me want to chop off his balls and fling them into Lake Superior, but I know better than to try that when I’ve got guns pointed at me. Instead, I shake my head, a curl falling loose from my bun.

“No, I wouldn’t. I’m a terrible liar.” I take a shaky breath, my gaze flitting from Ryder to Killian. “I have the Evermore, and I’ll give it to you. I refuse to watch anyone else get hurt over it.”

“A wise choice,” Killian says, nodding approvingly. “You always did strike me as an intelligent girl.”

“She’s not a girl, you jackass,” Ryder interjects, his tone incensed. “She’s a doct —”

But Malcolm shuts him up quickly with a quick tap of his gun against the back of Ryder’s head, and my stomach turns at his grunt of pain.

“For once, you’re not entirely wrong, Fleet,” Killian says, watching Ryder in bemusement. “Stupid, yes. Wrong, no. You are indeed a doctor, Emily. A lovely one at that.”

He smiles at me, and it’s a wonder that I once found him even halfway charming.

“You deserve someone who’s your equal,” Killian explains, taking a step toward me. “Someone who challenges you. Surprises you. Someone who’s clever and ambitious and knows how to handle a rare jewel when he finds one.”

He casts a disgusted look at Ryder, who’s practically foaming at the mouth to throttle him. “Why settle for a knuckle-dragging tour guide when you could have someone powerful? Driven? Wealthy beyond imagination?”

“Oh my God, how many times do I have to tell you that I am not a tour guide?” Ryder seethes, his jaw clenched. “I am a goddamn ambassador of adventure !”

Killian ignores him, his attention focused solely on me.

“I know you think I’m the villain here, Emily. And sure, from a certain perspective, I am.”

I’m pretty sure he’s the villain from every perspective imaginable, but I keep my expression neutral, because there’s nothing an egotistical man loves more than the chance to hear himself talk.

“You say the diamond belongs to the people, but which people do you mean?” he continues. “If Sharp had gotten his way, the Evermore would sit in a glass case in a shiny museum thousands of miles from where it originated. Is it really so terrible that I, the person who discovered the diamond’s existence, should stand to make a profit from it?”

I don’t answer, because I know Killian’s not actually looking for one.

“Yes,” Ryder says flatly, not caring what he’s looking for one way or another.

“The Evermore diamond should belong to someone who knows its worth,” Killian says, moving toward me. “All beautiful jewels should.”

He smiles when he reaches me, extending a hand to brush away my loose curl. His hand lingers on my temple, his gaze on my mouth, and a shiver of revulsion runs through me.

“Where is the diamond, darling?” he asks, his voice velvet.

“I’ll tell you on one condition,” I say, even though I know his word is as useless as the glow-in-the-dark toilet paper I wasted twenty bucks on. “If I give you the diamond, you let both of us go.”

Killian rolls his eyes in exasperation. “You? Perhaps. But the tour guide…”

“Both of us,” I insist, his fingers still grazing my face.

He shrugs. “Fine. I could use a little good karma. But a word of this to anyone, ever…”

“We wouldn’t,” I promise. “We just want to go home and forget any of this ever happened.” I nod toward my bound hands. “Cut me free, and I’ll give you the Evermore.”

Killian brushes a hand down my cheek and sighs. “You are quite irresistible, Emily. Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

My heart pounds as he drops his hand from my face to remove a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. I don’t need to look at Ryder to see every muscle in his body stiffen as Killian raises the knife toward me, and I breathe a sigh of relief when he slices my zip ties off in one swift cut.

“The diamond,” he says, still clutching the knife. “Now.”

Nodding, I unzip my backpack and slip it off, the henchmen’s guns trained on my every movement.

“Emily!” Ryder cries as I unzip my backpack. “Stop!”

But I don’t stop. A stupid gemstone, valuable as it might be, is not worth Ryder’s life. “Sorry, Dad,” I whisper as I dig out the urn, then twist the cap open and retrieve the Evermore diamond.

“For you,” I say, handing it to Killian, and he accepts it eagerly, cradling it in his hands in adoration.

“For you ,” he says in turn, and I recoil as he suddenly moves in for a frenzied kiss, his tongue wet and unrestrained and reminding me a great deal of my childhood dog, Rocket.

“Like I said,” he says when he comes up for air, grinning at me. “Irresistible.”

The henchmen laugh as I wipe my mouth, my skin crawling, and I don’t need to look at Ryder to know that he’s shaking with anger on my behalf.

Killian, wearing a smug look I’d love nothing more than to smack into oblivion, beckons to the lanky henchman who kept me pinned at the ranger station.

“Have Butcher take care of Fleet,” he instructs before turning to his third lackey. “You, go find the champagne and drop it off at my tent.”

The henchmen—sans Malcolm, who’s still looming over Ryder—scurry off to do his bidding, and Killian casts a backward glance at me as he strides down the dock toward base camp. “Feel free to join me for a drink, Emily, if you want. I’d love to celebrate the return of two beautiful jewels.”

I’d rather spend the rest of my life traipsing around this island alone than pop champagne with him, and I know if I’m going to save Ryder, it’s now or never.

Still holding Dad’s urn, I try to appear calm as I walk down the dock after Killian. Of course I’ve had a change of heart and suddenly want to wash away the memories of the last few days with expensive champagne. Of course I’m not silently scrambling for a way to save the day.

The placid expression I force myself to adopt must convince the henchmen that I’m harmless, because no bullets come flying at me as I near Killian.

“Wait up!” I call, and when he turns to face me, I raise the urn as high as I can and bring it down, hard, over his annoyingly well-coiffed head. Bam! He falls to his knees with a holler of pain, then collapses onto the dock.

“Fuck,” I whisper, because I wasn’t trying to kill him, but I don’t have time to plan my next move. Because when I turn away from Killian to look at Ryder, I see Malcolm moving toward me, his gun raised and ready.

I can’t stop the scream that escapes my lips as he fires, and it’s by pure luck that I dive left and his bullet misses my leg by inches.

An enraged Ryder, his hands still bound, lets out a cry of fury and rushes the henchman from behind, tackling him to the ground.

“I will fucking end you,” Ryder seethes, but he lets out a gurgle of pain when Malcolm thrusts an elbow backward into his face.

My hands trembling, I grab Biff’s knife from my sock and sprint toward the grappling pair, lunging toward Malcolm just as he clambers to his feet. He’s got strength, size, and a complete lack of morality on his side, but I’ve got the element of surprise and an exact precision for locating the carotid artery.

I manage to slash his arm before he raises his gun toward me, and when he fires, the bullet pierces a hole straight into the dock below us.

I cry out as Malcolm reaches for my knife, his hand ensnaring my wrist and squeezing so tightly that I can only wait for the bone to snap. But Ryder, struggling desperately to his feet, rushes Malcolm again just as the pain turns blinding. He kicks the henchman as hard as he can in the stomach, sending him flying backward, and when Malcolm’s back hits the dock with a thud, he drops his gun. Gasping, I sprint toward it and kick it into Lake Superior before he can grab it back.

“Emily!” Ryder yells, exasperated. “Pick up the gun next time!”

It’s an excellent point, but one I don’t have much time to consider as I hurry to cut Ryder’s zip ties.

“Faster!” he says, glancing warily down the dock as Malcolm clambers to his feet.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” I mutter, my fingers trembling. “This dagger isn’t that sharp.”

“You’re a doctor! You’re supposed to be good at cutting things!”

“I’m not a surgeon, Ryder!” I retort, slicing his ties frantically. “It would be different if I had a scalpel—”

“Move,” Ryder barks, and I leap aside as an enraged Malcolm approaches. I gasp as my tour guide, his hands still clasped, headbutts Malcolm in the chest so hard that the henchman falls off the dock and into the water.

“Oh my God,” I marvel, watching Malcolm sink below the surface. “You headbutted him!”

“I know,” Ryder says, wincing as he tilts his head left and then right. “It was like running into a wall.”

“Hands,” I say, grabbing Ryder’s, and it only takes a few more cuts of the knife to sever the ties.

“Come here,” he says when his hands are free, pulling me to his chest and wrapping his arms around me. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No.”

He leans back to get a good look at me. “What were you thinking? You should have been focused on saving yourself!”

I look at him in disbelief. “No way. I’m not about to leave this island without you, Ryder. I’m not about to lose you now.”

I think back to what Jason told me when he broke up with me, that there wasn’t a linear relationship between love and time spent together. He might have been wrong about a lot of things, but he wasn’t wrong about that.

“I love you, too, Ryder,” I say, cupping his cheek in my hand. “I never imagined I could fall in love in five days, either, but I have.”

“Oh, Emily,” he says, brushing his lips against mine. “I could have done it in two.”

His kiss is fast and furious, and I sigh against him, inhaling as much of him as I can. Our embrace only lasts an instant, though, because I hear the sound of boots smacking the dock, and I look behind me to see that Killian has clambered to his feet.

“Emily, darling ,” he says, his face twisted into a menacing scowl, “don’t worry about leaving this island without Fleet.” He squints at me, raising his gun. “You won’t be leaving it at all.”

I scream when he fires, and Killian laughs cruelly as Ryder dives valiantly in front of me. The bullet misses, but that doesn’t ease my rage. Incensed, I pull one of Biff’s throwing rocks from my pocket and hurl it at Killian as hard as I can, but I miss by a mile yet again, and he only laughs bitterly and points his gun at Ryder.

“No!” I shout in protest.

I watch breathlessly as Ryder dives into Lake Superior, his only chance of escape, while Killian fires at him mercilessly.

“Alright, then,” Killian says, shrugging when Ryder disappears beneath the water’s surface. “Your turn.”

He turns toward me, his gun level with my chest, and I step backward, hands raised, as he advances.

“It’s too bad, really, that you have such terrible taste in men,” he says bitterly, laughing at my terror. “We could have really been something. But instead, you’ve chosen to die with a hapless buffoon who has too much testosterone and not enough brain cells.”

I glance around frantically, looking for anything I can use as a weapon, but there’s only him and me and miles and miles of open water.

Killian might think Ryder lacks brain cells, but no one could think that he lacks balls. Because just then, Ryder emerges from the water and heaves himself onto the dock in one smooth motion, his shirt clinging to his chest like he’s the badass hero in an action movie. He lunges toward Killian, who darts sideways to escape him. But Ryder’s high school long jump prowess finally pays off, and he manages to grab hold of Killian’s tweed jacket sleeve, causing the archaeologist to lose his grip on the diamond.

“No!” Killian cries as the Evermore falls to the dock, and I watch as Ryder sprints to retrieve it.

“Enough fucking around,” Killian says, and pain sears through me as he grabs me by the hair, snaking an arm around my neck and pointing his gun at my temple.

“Give me the Evermore, Fleet,” he spits, pressing the gun into my skull so hard I see stars.

“Ryder, don’t!” I scream, but he only looks at me remorsefully.

“I have no choice,” Ryder says, opening his fist to reveal the bright, sparkling diamond that started all this bullshit. “I’m sorry.”

He extends the jewel toward Killian. “Here. Take it. Fucking take it and let her go.”

My heart sinks as Killian snatches the diamond from Ryder’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you, sport,” he says, closing his fingers over the gem. “Now say goodbye.”

I don’t hear what Ryder says next. I hear nothing except for the thud of something hard and metallic slamming into my head, and then all that exists is pain. I cling to consciousness for a moment, my vision blurring as I witness the rage and heartbreak on Ryder’s face. And then everything slips away, and the world goes dark.