Tamed

“No such thing.”

* * *

THEY ARRIVED AT the meeting place a half hour later. Not the park and not the diner. Not even the bridge where they’d almost died. They walked up to the marina that sat just a few miles from her house, which she hadn’t been back to since the original shooting. Being this close to the scene where it had all started had something jumping around in her stomach. Nerves or panic...something.

She punched in the code Frank had given her and opened the gate to the docks. Shane followed without saying a word. He was armed and ready, and that was all that mattered. But as they made their way down the incline, she did see Shane’s point. There were so many places to hide. So many ways to get lost in a maze of docks and ships, and not come out again.

She blew out long breaths as she struggled to maintain some sense of control. Her heartbeat ran off at a gallop and her chest ached from the force of it. She’d get through this. She had to. She had so much to live for, so much hope for the future for the first time in so long. She wouldn’t give that up for a website or Jeff or Frank or anyone else.

The water lapped and metal clanked against metal as the boats bobbed in the water. No one was around. She knew Connor played some role in that. Rain or not, people should be milling around. The mist chilled her skin, but the total quiet was what had her ready to jump on top of Shane and demand he take her out of there.

They reached a T and Shane pointed to the right. “This way.”

She looked down, mentally reading off the numbers as they passed each one. They needed 280. Of course it wasn’t right near the front where the buildings sat. No, she walked beside Shane as the distance between them and land grew.

One final turn and they reached the point farthest away from the opening gate. Just a few more...something made her look up. Probably a hint in the way Shane carried his body or a shift in the breeze. It didn’t matter why, but she saw Frank in front of her. Or a version of him. This Frank was disheveled and jerky in panic. He moved around, his gaze touring the distance as he stood there.

“What do you want?” Shane asked without any inflection in his voice. The wind whipped around him and the rain kicked up, but he didn’t show any signs of being uncomfortable. He was in his element and in control.

Frank nodded toward the boat in the slip next to him. “We need to go inside.”

Makena looked at the hull. The boat was small, and having any kind of conversation likely meant crawling under and into a space they couldn’t see right now. Shane had been right about this, too. It was a setup and one they might not survive if they weren’t careful. Sure, Connor lurked out there somewhere and Cam was submerged in the water, ready to come up firing. But one mistake, one second too late, and this could be the last shooting in this case.

She thought about her brother and how many good things lay ahead for him. Her mind wandered over all the mistakes and focused on the good times. On the bright moments of the past few days. She glanced at Shane and took in his strength and energy and realized loving him had switched from a desperate state to a happy one.

“There’s no way we’re getting on that boat.” Shane widened his stance. “So talk.”

Frank shook his head. “You’re not in charge here.”

“This says I am.” Shane lifted his hand and flashed his gun. Didn’t wave it around or make a big show. Just leveled the playing field with one small gesture.

But she needed to avoid whatever harsh thing came next. She also wanted to know why he wanted them here so badly. “Okay, enough.” She glared at the man she once believed had turned a corner to a new life. “You called us, Frank.”

Whether it was whatever he saw on her face or the gun, something got him talking. He slipped to the side, getting closer to the boat, but he didn’t run as he talked. “There’s a group. They’ve banded together to come after you.”

The loop. The men who sat around complaining about getting caught. She hated them even more now. “Right.”

“How do you know?” Shane asked in a deceptively soft voice.

Frank took another step back. One more and his foot would slip into the small space between the dock and the boat, and he’d fall in the water. “I’ve been helping them.”

Pain shot through her. She’d believed in him. Stood up for him. “So the ‘new Frank’ thing is a lie.”

“It wasn’t my fault.” He rubbed his hands together as he shifted around. Every movement choreographed the frenzy taking off inside him.

Guilt could do that to a person. She refused to feel bad for him. Not again. She could not be fooled twice.