Reaper's Salvation (Road to Salvation A Last Rider's Trilogy 3)

“James is neutralized. Second phase started. On my way back.”

Allerton’s voice came over the radio. “Stay there until the job is done.”

“Yes, sir.” Clicking his radio back onto his belt, Beef Face moved to his side.

“You know what to do,” he said to the guard in the driver’s seat. “Radio in on your way back.”

“You’re not going?”

“No, Leif and Boom can go with you. That’s one more than you need.”

Beef Face gave Reaper a wistful glance. “I was hoping like hell you would give me some trouble. That sweet piece won’t miss you when I’m done with her.”

Reaper lowered his gaze to the shiny deck, containing the comeback he wanted to give.

“Allerton won’t be happy you didn’t stay,” the other man spoke up as Beef Face jumped back onto the dock.

“I’m not wasting my time here,” Beef Face spouted his opinion to the other men gathered on the boat. “I was paid for a high-risk mission. Damn.” He gave him a disgusted look. “Allerton has more money than brains. I would have done this job for half the pay and the woman. Finish this piece of shit off. Leif, Boom, go with Devlin. Rest of you, come with me.”

Reaper watched the eleven men walk back down the dock as the motor started. Marveling at their stupidity, Reaper used his hands to hold onto the metal bars at his back to keep the cuff from cutting his skin. He knew what fate they had devised for him, and he didn’t want any blood drawing the sharks to him if he managed to jump from the boat when they took his handcuffs off.

The island was barely out of sight before the motor was cut.

“You should go farther out,” one of the guards cautioned the driver.

“Why?” Devlin scoffed, getting off his seat. “It’s not like the cocksucker is going to be in any shape to swim back.”

Taking his gun out of his holster, Devlin pointed the gun at his temple. “Boom is going to take the cuffs off. If you make one move I don’t fucking tell you, I’m going to blow your fucking brains out.”

Reaper felt the cuffs loosen around his wrists.

“Stand up.”

Slowly, Reaper stood.

“Back up.”

Following the order slowly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Leif reach under a padded bench seat for a roll of duct tape.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

With the gun pressed to his temple, Reaper began calculating his chance of survival if he didn’t do what was being asked of him. Different scenarios went through his mind in flashes.

Feeling the gun pressed harder against his temple, Reaper put his hands behind his back. He could get out of the tape when the time was right; a bullet to his brain was a game ender.

The tape was wrapped around his wrists several times before he heard it being torn. Dumbasses hadn’t even bought a good quality roll to use on him.

“Move to the side,” Devlin ordered.

Reaper did as he was told, seeing Boom reach under another bench seat to take out chains with an anchor attached.

About to break the tape on his wrists by a maneuver he’d had been taught in training, Devlin shoved his face in front of him. “I don’t want to have to clean up the mess your brains would make, but I will.”

Controlling the instinct to fight, Reaper let Leif tape his feet together at the ankles, then let him wind the chain around his neck. One lesson he had learned from the years of being Slate’s captive was to save his strength and wait for the right moment to attack. This wasn’t it. Any sound of bullets being fired would be heard by the guards on the beach.

“Loop the chain around his waist, too. I don’t want him floating to the top.”

Reaper lowered his lashes to hide the deadly intent in his eyes. He kept telling himself to wait, and instead he remembered how Ginny looked at him before she took off with Allerton in an effort to save his life. His girl was too trusting.

“Toss him overboard.”

“Devlin, shoot him first.” Boom hesitated to follow the order.

“You want to spend the afternoon cleaning and have your ass reamed by Allerton? He doesn’t want any bullet holes in him when we come back to get his body. He wants it to look like a drowning—which is the reason we aren’t using the cuffs, so they’re no marks on his body.”

Leif didn’t take his eyes off him, waiting for him move.

“Damn. That’s my worst nightmare. Poor bastard.” Boom gave him a pitying glance before he and Leif each hooked an arm under one of his, then gripped his belt as they shuffled him to the edge of the boat.

“Sorry, dude. If I could, I’d put a bullet in you myself to put you out of your misery, but it’s Allerton’s call, not mine.”