Grayson
As me and Slate stand with the kid at the top of the hill, an alarm goes off in my head.
Something about this scenario smells off but I can’t put my finger on it. I see two guys, a woman, and a boat. There’s nothing unusual about that. The thicker of the two men, dressed only in a bathing suit, grabs the rope of the rowboat and throws it to the woman who ties it off.
“That’s my grand-mama.” Thomas flies across the sand, dashes the length of the dock, and hugs the woman with outstretched arms.
I can’t make out what’s said but she seems to scold him which, under the circumstances, I would, too.
“It seems harmless enough,” I mutter this more to myself than Slate as we make our way to greet the newcomers.
My friend grunts and it could be agreement but most probably not.
Suddenly, a tropical bird squawks and I jump when it swoops over our heads to take flight over the bay.
I really do need to chill out.
Down at the dock, one guy is already back in the boat, about ready to go but the other stays on the dock. I can’t see his face but he tousles the locks of the kid, laughs, and jokes. He’s not paying any attention to me and Slate.
Then, everything turns to shit.
The men turn with weapons pointed and a bright red laser dot appears in the middle of Slate’s forehead. No doubt there’s one on mine as well.
Ah fuck. Xavier Cross.
With an AK17 pointed at my heart, I should be scared but I’m too pissed off. He’s a dead man walking; just doesn’t know to lie down yet.
“Surprised?” The arrogant bastard balances with one foot on the boat’s railing while the boat bobs up and down in the rough waters of the bay.
I inch my way forward as I time the red dot bouncing on and off my chest. I may only get one chance at this so need to make it count. My hands clench by my side and my back teeth grind. I fully intend to knock him into the bay. I spring but his accomplice sees it coming. So, instead of head-butting my nemesis into the ocean, my neck crunches and I drop to my knees on the dock.
“Hands behind your back.” Pistol to my head, the black man kicks out one of Slate’s legs and he falls beside me.
Then the thug motions to Xavier. “Watch them and for Christ’s sake, stand clear.”
Xavier takes a few steps back with his weapon swinging between Slate and myself while the thug pulls a couple zip-ties out of his pocket and squats behind us. Sharp plastic cuts through my skin as my kneecaps ache from the hard fall onto the wood.
I try to think. Dammit. How the hell did Xavier find us?
No doubt, when Isabella banged her head, word must’ve gotten out we were staying not too far from Nassau. Thus informed, it probably wasn’t all that hard to find us. I bet all it took was the promise of a reward.
Find the billionaire. No doubt, it’s a lot more lucrative than ‘Where’s Waldo.’
Slate’s hooded gaze reminds me we’ve rehearsed this worst-case scenario. The best thing to do is slow down and wait for the bad guys to make a mistake.
The kid and the woman get sent back into the boat, eyes wide, arms around each other. I doubt they’ll be much help but at least they’re not part of whatever Xavier has in store for me and my family.
At the thought of Skye and Isabella, my resolve hardens. If necessary, I’ll take a bullet rather than let him near my wife and kid. I get in Xavier’s face, ready again. This time I plan to knock him into the ocean with a kick to the groin.
The other guy must have a fucking sixth sense because he points his pistol at me and smiles, his gold tooth flashing. “Don’t even think about it.”
My chest tightens, I clench my fists, and imagine my fingers wrapped around this guy’s throat. I’ll do the same to Xavier but right now, I need to be smart, think strategically.
With Xavier, it’s not about money, it’s about revenge. Somehow, I’ll have to use his weaknesses to my advantage.
The first time I met him was at college. Even then, my former roommate was a little socially awkward but no more so than a lot of other freshmen. I never would’ve guessed we’d end up here.
After we graduated, he asked my dad for a job and I gave my recommendation. Xavier was brilliant and had what seemed to be a stellar resume but it’s my fault he ended up at Patten Securities, embezzling millions. If not for my father’s cancer, I swear he would’ve gotten away with it. It took some of the world’s best accountants to find the tiny trail of illegalities and breadcrumbs left in the ledgers.
Later? All I can say is Xavier went off the deep end. He blamed me for his arrest and hunted Isabella. The first time he tried to hurt her, I hid her in a cabin just north of the city but he found her, chased her into the woods, and she almost froze to death.
The next time was at her hometown in Minnesota. He had no idea her NRA card-carrying uncles hold the second amendment as dear to their heart as the gospel. He and his goons never had a chance. Once on the FBI’s most wanted list, he ended up in Canada where the trail went cold.
Up until recently, I figured he’d given up. I mean it’s been over a year.
Fuck it.
While I grew complacent, he was biding his time, planning his next attack.
Now, I’m certain the nannies were his doing but obviously, it was part of a much more complex plan. He wanted us stressed out so we’d need a vacation and leave the relative safety of our well-protected home.
Xavier digs the muzzle of his gun into my forehead, no doubt tired of my attempts to delay the inevitable. “Get up and walk or I blow your head off.”
He might kill Slate but he won’t kill me. He wants to punish me, to see me suffer and the best way to do it is to hurt the people I love.
“I’m taking everything of yours, Patten. Not some. All.” The crazy bastard’s voice is up an octave, excited.
Is he on something? The sick way he grins sends a chill down my spine as I make my way up the stones.
I need to give my bodyguard an opening so shoot him a glance. He nods, I stumble, and he kicks the rifle out of Xavier’s grasp. Then, I butt my head into the big black guy. Slate’s right foot whips up at gold’s tooth’s hand who drops the pistol.
Thank fuck.
I’m about to bash my heel into Xavier’s head when a voice shouts down from the deck. “Cut the crap!”
It takes me a few seconds to realize the moan is mine. Some brown fucker with wet dreadlocks stands at the railing with a gun to my wife’s head. Eyes wide and mouth covered by her hands, Isabella shakes her head back and forth vehemently.
Her hands as a megaphone, she shouts, “No, don’t listen to him.”
For now, Slate and I have no choice but to stand down as Xavier brushes the mud off his ass and grabs the pistol.
Gold-tooth retrieves the rifle from the wet grass beside the stairs, points it at me, and says, “Move.”
Slowly, I rise, mouth close to Slate’s ear. “What next?”
“No fucking talking.” Xavier screams, hard metal smashes into my jaw, I see stars and stagger.
Kneeling between red tropical blooms, I wiggle a loose tooth, taste blood and fume. God damn it. My wife and kid are in that house. I’m almost out of options. With guns at our heads there’s nothing to be done but finish our climb.
At the top of the deck, my heart races and I almost lose it. Is Skye inside or did the man holding my wife kill her?
Ah fuck it all to hell.
My eyes sting, thunder booms, and lightning flashes between the dark clouds but the noise helps me regain my focus.
I will kill these fucking bastards.
The intruders force us at gunpoint into the kitchen where we drip onto the tiled floor. With the five of us crowded into the small space Isabella is pushed with her back to the knife drawer. It cracks open and from the way she tenses, I know she’s got one.
Atta girl, Izzy.
Slate notices her brave move and struggles with Dreadlocks, bringing attention to himself. The rifle butt comes down on his face and I cringe but unexpectedly, Xavier steps between them.
“No! Shit. Stop it.” “You’re going to ruin everything. This has to look real.”
He waves the barrel of his pistol down the hall. “Everyone, to the master bedroom, now.”
In a casual gentleman-like move, I wait for Isabella to take the lead and when she squeezes by she puts the knife into my hands, still tied behind my back.
I whisper into her ear, “Skye?”
“Bedroom.”
Thank God. My world turns right-side-up as I follow in single file. First, there’s Isabella, then Dreadlocks, Slate, Gold-tooth, me, and finally, Xavier.
There’s hardly room for all of us in the master bedroom. Isabella backs to the far corner of the room, in front of a bed stand, next to the headboard. The rest of us surround the king-sized bed. With my back against the wall, I frantically work the knife’s edge against the plastic ties.
Xavier points at Dreadlocks, then Slate. “You, cut him loose.”
“I don’t…”
“God damn it all, just do what I say.” Crazy bloodshot eyes stare at the black man who dared question him.
With the gun all over the place and his index finger wrapped around the trigger. I swear to God he may shoot someone by accident.
“Don’t point that damn thing at me.” Dreadlocks furrows his brows, pulls out a switch blade and cuts through Slate’s ties.
“Now. Take off your clothes.” Xavier points the barrel of his weapon at Slate and squeezes past everyone to get to where Isabella is cowered in the corner.
He grabs her arm and drags her onto the bed. “You, too.”
Dammit all. What the hell is Xavier up to?
Slowly, my bodyguard undresses, his eyes lowered as I saw away at the tie behind my back. Damn this dull steak knife. Finally, I break free, and press the plastic to the wall so it won’t make a sound if it falls.
Just as I’m about to take the gun from Xavier, Gold-tooth enters the room with Skye. Fuck it all to hell. I was so busy getting free, I hadn’t noticed him leave.
He smiles evilly as his tooth gleams in the light overhead. “Her neck is so fragile. Just one little twist…”
I’m so glad to see Skye alive, my heart skips a beat. At the same time, I fucking ache that she’s in the arms of that killer.
Skye starts to howl and her little arms reach. “Ma ma ma ma ma.”
I changed my mind, Gold-tooth will be the first to die.
“Shut her up.” Xavier glances at the baby, at me, then back at Slate who’s on his hands and knees on the mattress, coiled tighter than a cobra.
The madman laughs and spittle drips from his chin. “What we have here is a love triangle gone bad. You.” He waves the gun at Slate. “Into bed, with her.”
The service tats on Slate’s upper chest and forearm quiver. Ah fuck, that means there’s no time left.
All of my muscles brace for action, I take a deep breath and…
“Give dat chile to me, Samuel Ellison.” All eyes turn as an old woman’s firm voice sounds from just outside the bedroom door.
The angry grandma holds out her hand and her eyes blaze. Young Thomas steps out from behind her and points the barrel of a pistol at Samuel’s back.
The big black man hands my baby over to the woman, eyes down while he mutters an apology.
“Get out of here, skedaddle.”
He leaves and then, with a nod at me, the old woman and Thomas back out of the room.
With a glance at Slate, I take a deep breath, and kick hard at Xavier’s hand. The weapon goes off, ceiling plaster drops into my eyes, and I’m momentarily blinded as I drop to my knees. There, Xavier and I scramble for control of the weapon while nearby, yet not in the bedroom, Skye cries.
Xavier is so fucking crazy, he has the strength of ten as I wrestle with him on the floor.
When another shot is fired, a man grunts and Izzy screams, “Slate. Shit he’s hit, Gray. He’s bleeding. Oh my God.”
The floor explodes by my right hand, and Xavier says, “The next one goes through your wife’s brain.”
Fuck. Isabella is on the bed holding a pillow to Slate’s shoulder, blood everywhere. Dreadlocks is wounded, too, his blood on the floor.
I have never been so fucking scared in my life and don’t think I’ve ever prayed so hard.
Xavier’s face no longer resembles the one I remember. It’s so skewed, he could be Lucifer, himself.
Will there be any more chances or did we just blow the last?
Too calm, Xavier turns to me. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You will shoot your bodyguard through the head. Then you will shoot yourself. Understand? Do that, and I promise to let Isabella and your kid live.”
I shake my head and can’t believe this nightmare. “And I should believe you, why?”
“First off, you have no choice. Second, let me explain. I’m going to marry her because when I do, your fortune becomes mine. The baby will make it all seem legit.”
Isabella pipes up from where she’s pressing against Slate’s shoulder. “You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’ll marry you. Don’t believe him, Gray.”
“You’ll do as I say if you want your kid to live.” Xavier nears the bed. “And action. Isabella, take off your clothes.”
She slowly reaches for the hem of her t-shirt, eyes pleading with me to do something.
Please, God, no…
When the house begins to rock, at first, I think it’s my imagination but as I look around the room, all eyes grow wide and mouths drop open.
I lived in LA. I know what’s coming next so drop with my face to the floor.
Xavier, however stands fast, his last fatal mistake.