Accidental Shield

It’s like diving into a sheet of fucking plywood.

The impact of the speedboat hitting the yacht’s hull sends glass and metal flying everywhere, shrapnel confetti whizzing into the water from a thousand points. Fighting the debris and the waves, I swim to the boat and scurry up the ladder.

The shock on the face of the first man I encounter says we’ve got them with their pants down.

“This one’s mine!” Davis shouts, leaping over the railing and barreling into the dude head first.

I run for the last place I saw Val, dodging my men as they leap over the rails. The yacht is listing, taking on water fast from the way it’s tipping.

As I round the deck, I see them.

Joel Cornaro himself has his gold-plated gun on Ray with one hand, holding Valerie by a fistful of hair with the other. I can hear the skiff being lowered, and I race forward.

He turns, sees me, and shoves Ray over the edge of the rail.

Fuck!

Then he turns the gun on me and fires. I duck, hearing the bullet ping off the wall beside me, before I’m charging forward again.

Cornaro snarls, climbing over the rail, pulling Valerie over with him.

Shit, I’m hauling ass, but it’s not fast enough.

Everything’s happening in slow motion.

Something in her hand shimmers.

Cornaro shouts, and they both go over the edge.

“Fliiint!”

Her scream nearly guts me.

Huffing hot breath, I reach the spot where they fell over. All three are in the skiff, jostling around against the dark waves.

Hardly any relief.

Cornaro frantically works his hands, unhooking the chains as the boat slides into the water.

I dive over the edge after them.

Hit the water just as the small boat’s motor whirls to life. With a burst of pure rage, I surge forward, and catch the side of the skiff.

There are shouts, screams, thuds. I’m struggling to hoist myself up; the waves are so ferocious they throw me back like angry tentacles.

A gun goes off then, blasting several more bullets into the water. One whizzes past my ear.

Joel Cornaro sees me, gives me a killing look, and swings an oar at my face.

Shit!

Dodging by an inch, I grab the end and pull, twisting it away from him. It falls over the side, into the churning water.

Then, as I haul myself onto the edge, something in Valerie’s hand shimmers again in the dull light.

“You’re dead, Calum!” Cornaro roars, taking a second to give me a death glare, wielding that gold Colt like a rock. Maybe he’s out of ammo, but he’ll still try to use it to kill me by blunt force.

“Miss me, you puke?” I grin, distracting him.

It works.

Val is on him a second later, reaching around from behind to Cornaro’s face. She drags something sharp and menacing across his head.

He barely has a chance to roar before blood spills down his cheek, the skin hanging open.

Grabbing his gun off the floor, he fights her off and aims again, dazed but not defeated.

Shit, maybe he’s not as depleted as I thought.

“Valerie!” I yell, leaping forward, knocking her to the floor of the skiff as two more loud shots ring out.

Keeping her body covered, I twist and scan for Cornaro, who’s stumbling backward from a kick by Ray, who lies on the floor of the boat.

The bastard catches his footing and levels his gun on him.

“Stay down!” I tell Val, leaping to my feet, kicking the gun as it fires.

The bullet misses Ray, but hits the motor, which sputters and dies.

Cornaro still has the gun and swings it my way.

I grab it by the barrel and flip it around, forcing his hands back, so the gun points dead at him.

Blood pours down his cheek in rivulets. Val must’ve had a knife.

Leave it to her to find a way to fight back. Proof of the gumption and strength she always denies having.

Screaming, Cornaro drops the gun and rushes forward, head down.

I grab his matted hair with one hand, snap his head up, and level a punch square at his nose.

There’s a loud crunch!

His head snaps back, but I still have him by the hair, and strike again.

I’m winding up for my third and final blow, but he’s already limp.

I want to fucking murder him, beat him into a slurry of meat and blood where he stands, but he’s still breathing. And I know taking him alive would be invaluable to all the other countless people he’s destroyed over the decades.

Growling back my own white-hot rage, I release him with a parting kick to the ribs as he drops to a heap on the floor.

Then there’s just Val, standing beside me.

One look in her bright-gold eyes brings me as close to crying as I’ve been since the day I thought Bryce was in that Jeep his junkie mama rolled.

She falls into my arms, or I pull her in like mad.