Page 25 of Velvet and Valor (Platinum Security: Shadows of LA #4)

JUNE

My ‘boyfriend’ Eaton aka Axel shows his face again.

Moorcrock’s nephew Ricky is kind of a dunce, and I don’t sense a malicious bone in his body.

Maybe he doesn’t even know about his uncle’s criminal connections.

No, that doesn’t seem likely. More likely, this is a test to see if the nephew qualifies to be brought deeper into the organization.

Axel strides up, a big smile on his face.

“This is one incredible ship, but I’m just not sure it has enough room for all of my lady’s wardrobe. The amount of shoes she has alone will sink us.”

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s kind of a cozy boat,” I say, squeezing the nephew’s arm a little tighter.

“Yeah, but look at that monster over there,” Axel says, staying in character as he points at the massive luxury yacht moored a few spaces down from the sprite. “That’s more my style. You think the owner might sell?”

Ricky’s eyes widen with panic, and he stiffens up next to me.

“I doubt that,” he says quickly.

“Are you sure? Maybe I could go talk to the owner,” Axel says.

“I don’t think you should be bothering them,” Ricky says. “They probably don’t even speak English.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to try,” Axel says.

He looks over at me.

“Come on, Gina, let’s go.”

He can’t have had enough time to get the intel we need on the yacht. What’s Axel thinking? We can’t miss this chance.

“Ricky, can you show me where to powder my nose?”

“Yeah, follow me,” he says.

Axel gives me a quizzical look.

“Don’t be long,” Axel says. “I’ll be right here.”

Ricky shows me the ship’s lavatory. It’s small but elegant, as expected. It’s also devoid of any illicit goods, or criminal master plans. Disappointed, I decide to take the long route back to Axel in hopes that I might find something.

The boat lurches beneath me. I hear Axel shout as we surge out onto the water. Peering out the window, I see that the sudden lurch of speed sent Axel flying over the rail and onto the dock.

I run up to the top deck and see the marina dwindling behind us. Cursing, I go to the bridge, finding Ricky at the controls.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Just a quick spin,” he says “to show you what this baby can do. You’re the one who I need to convince, right?”

I am nervous about going out with him alone, but if I protest too much, it might blow our cover. Though considering our sudden departure, that might be a moot point now.

“All right,” I say. “But just a quick spin, so I don’t get seasick.”

“Of course.” Ricky fusses with two life jackets, holding them up and examining each one. He slides one over his shoulder and then he offers the other lifejacket to me.

“Here,” he says. “I hate to cover up any part of that gorgeous body, but you should probably put this on.”

Now I’m alone with a virtual stranger. I don't see any weapons on Ricky, though. And he doesn’t seem dangerous. I check his knuckles. No scarring. I learned that trick from a stuntman on one of our films. Violent men often have scar tissue built up on their knuckles.

Ricky has what that stuntman would have called virgin knuckles. I try to relax, but I can’t help but feel trepidation as we zip out toward the end of the man-made cove.

The chop gets noticeably worse. I grab hold of the sides of my seat as we skip out over the waves.

“Are you sure this is safe?” I ask, breaking character as my jersey accent slips.

“We’ll be just fine,” he calls back, shouting to be heard above the waves.

We skip out over the Pacific, the land dwindling behind us. Ricky slows the boat down, easing the throttle down to neutral, though the engines still rumble.

“See?” he says, holding his balance easily even though the ocean kicks us around chaotically. “Perfectly safe, June.”

My heart sinks into my feet.

“Yes, I recognized you from the photos my uncle showed me. Your disguises suck, by the way. But me, I deserve an academy award. It wasn't hard to fool you into thinking I was some dumb kid,” Ricky says. “I’d guess right about now, your army ranger boyfriend is getting chopped into itty, bitty pieces by Ming Xa and her Triad buddies. We were smart enough to hide in plain sight. That moron of yours is getting ready to walk right into the lion’s den. ”

“Your uncle is not a good man,” I say, looking around for a way to escape. In order to get off the bridge, I have two options. I can try to use the stairs which are right next to Ricky. Or I could jump over the railing and hope I can stick the landing.

One thing’s for sure; I don't want to go into that ocean. Not even with a life-vest. The waves are a lot bigger this far from shore.

“I know he’s not a good man,” Ricky says. “But he is a rich man. And I want to be rich, too. Ruthless leads to riches. It’s my uncle’s favorite saying.”

“So why did you bring me out here if you knew who I really was?” I ask.

His eyes narrow to slits.

“Oh, I think that should be obvious,” he says. “Two things are certain here, you are going to tell me where they are, and you aren’t going to make it back to shore. Your choice, slow, or fast. If you want it quick and painless, well…there are caveats.”

He grabs his crotch and my stomach twists in disgust.

“What are you talking about? And, I’d sooner be eaten by sharks,” I say.

He shrugs. “Don’t play stupid with me, there is nowhere to run now June. Where are the goods?”

The goods? I’m terrified to think about what Ricky will do to me before he realizes that I have no idea what he is talking about.

Ricky spins around, quick as a cat. He hooks his shoulders into the cash webbing.

I lean down to grab my stiletto and throw it with everything I can muster. It hits Ricky square in the eyebrow, and I watch as blood begins to leak from the gash the heel tore into it.

I make a break for it, rushing toward the staircase. Maybe I can find a cabin to lock myself in and keep myself safe from him—

Ricky opens the throttle wide open. The powerful engines churn the ocean into a mountain of foam behind us. The front of the boat lifts entirely out of the water at a severe angle.

I tumble head over heels backward, slamming hard into the safety railing. Ricky punches the throttle and shoots us out over the waves. I struggle to hang on as we bounce violently over the crest of the waves.

“You fucking bitch,” he shouts. “You fucking whore, you’re dead.”

I wonder idly if pissing him off was really in my best interest, considering Ricky now doesn’t look so interested in getting information out of me. I try to pull myself into a seat. If I can secure my own crash webbing, I won’t be thrown into the ocean.

He throws the boat hard to starboard. One second, I’m clinging to the seats. The next, I spiral through the sky, nothing to hold on to but empty air.

I see the slope of a wave heaving up toward me like a moving blue wall. It slaps me like a giant hand. Water inundates my mouth and nose. I come up sputtering on the other side, desperately clawing to stay afloat. What’s with this life jacket? It’s not helping me float at all.

Ricky stares at me intensely, riding the waves like he was born to it. He’s watching me drown. This is what gets him off.

“Tell me what I want to know, June.”

The lifejacket feels like it’s lined with lead. It probably is. No wonder Ricky spent so much time choosing his jacket. He wanted to make sure I wore the lethal one.

I fumble around, trying to find the release. Hard, thin wire cuts into my fingertips. He must have made damn sure the jacket’s not coming off. Oh god, I can’t keep my head up for much longer. If I go down that's it.

“My uncle will be disappointed that I didn’t get the information he wanted, but your death? That will give him something to celebrate.”

“Please, I have information,” I scream as a big wave lifts me up a dozen feet in the air. “I have–”

I tumble down the back of the wave, engulfed by water. I twist and writhe around inside the wave, my hands bleeding as I pull at the wire. At last, I feel the vest give. I squirm out of the vest and swim hard to the surface.

The wave carried me a long way from Ricky. He spots me, bobbing to the surface, and steers the boat in my direction. At first, I think he’s just trying to get a closer look to see me drown. Then I realize, the prow of the ship cuts through the water on a collision course with my head.

What would Axel do? He’d probably dive under the boat and carve his way in with a knife or something. I can barely swim in a pool. Axel would say this is some wrath of Poseidon shit.

Death shoots toward me with unerring accuracy. Ricky leans over the controls, no longer harnessed in place. I guess he doesn't need seat belts if he’s not trying to murder his passengers with crazy driving.

I can’t believe I’m going to die like this. I wonder if they’ll make a movie about this whole affair? Who would they get to play me? Margot Robbie would be awesome, not that we look the least bit alike.

It’s not fair, I never did anything to Poseidon. It’s not like I burned one of his temples like Odysseus, or anything—

It comes out of nowhere, a moving wall of water moving at odds with the rest of the current.

A rogue wave, rearing up to over thirty feet in height.

It slaps into the side of the sea sprite, engulfing it in a splash of white foam.

The sea sprite disappears for a moment, but then reappears, bobbing up and down a dozen feet from me with the engine sputtering out.

I don’t see Ricky anywhere. Desperately, I swim for the yacht, grabbing hold of a ladder meant especially to retrieve swimmers.

The ocean calms itself as I clamber up to the bridge. Blinking the stinging salt out of my eyes, I survey the controls. I’m not captain Nemo, but I think I can make this work, especially after watching Ricky pilot the boat.

Not today, Poseidon. Not today.