“Unless he doesn’t have the boat yet and Friday is when he was supposed to get it.”
My brows drew together. “Anyone else thinking that it’s a lot easier to sneak off an island in a boat than it is a private plane?”
“I am now,” Carter said slowly. “You think this is Byrne’s way off the island too?”
“If we’re Byrne, what would we do?” Nathan asked. “We’ve chased Belle for years and she’s gotten away from us three times. We’re not taking chances on number four.”
“He didn’t,” I replied. “He killed his only loose end. Whatever plan he came up with to get off the island, he made sure it was foolproof.”
“A plane still works pretty well,” Carter said. “Especially if he got her on and took off while Ortiz and Hanson had us in the sunroom.”
“True,” I admitted. “We don’t know if this has anything to do with Byrne or if it’s just Fuller’s escape plan. We’ll turn it over to Ortiz. They’ll find the boat quicker than we can.”
“He won’t be happy we broke in here,” Carter said as we kicked aside our mess and left.
“Then his ass should have found it first,” said Nathan.
“You guys track Ortiz down and give him the note. I’ve got one more thing to take care of.”
They strode ahead, both already pulling out their phones and dialing.
I went downstairs to my new, nervous friend.
“They’re waiting for you in the living room,” said the clerk. “Is there a problem?”
“Not yet.”
The inn’s living room was packed. Twelve guards sat on every available floral couch, armchair, and ottoman. They fell quiet as I stepped inside.
“I’m going to keep this simple,” I began. “If Malcolm Byrne threatened or bribed you to help him kidnap Belle Adler, or if you have information on your friend, Ruben Fuller, tell me and you can name your price. I don’t fucking care if you send me an anonymous text with his address and a bank account number.
“All I want is Belle back. One of you makes that happen, you’ll be extremely rich. If you decide to take your chances with Byrne instead, then... you saw what he did to his last partner.”
“Sir,” Dean said. “None of us—”
“None of you what?” I cut in. “Would attack me and hand my girlfriend over to a monster? Did I imagine the last twenty-four hours?”
A few of them had the decency to lower their eyes.
“Fuller was working alone,” said another guard, Carlos Rojas. Carlos, a sturdy tree-trunk of a man who served my mom since she was pregnant, rose to his full height. “He was having problems at home. Worse than we realized. But none of us were in on it with him. We’ve served your family for years, Preston. It may be hard to trust us right now, but you can.”
A smile spread across my bruised face, stopping short of my eyes. “In that case, my phone will be silent for the next three hours,” I replied. “That’s all you have. Three hours to trade what you know for more money than you can spend in your lifetime.”
I swept out of the room, meeting Carter and Nathan on the front steps.
“Think anyone will go for it?” Carter asked.
My phone beeped before we passed the inn sign.
Unknown number.
“Being handsome, rich, and calculating gets you a lot in this world,” I said simply. “The three of us know that better than anyone.”
BELLE
The pan sizzled—splattering bubbling butter down my favorite belted red dress with teal polka dots. Mal stocked our hideaway with a change of clothes for me. But I refused to take off a stitch in his presence. I’d been wearing it since he took me the day before.
My grip tightened on the spatula.
I remembered the day the dame gave me the fabric. She told me to make us both something gorgeous to wear to the community’s mother-daughter dance.
Cecilia Lewis-Adler. My mother.
Circumstance had brought me two wonderful women to love and care for me, and Mal terrorized them both.
I knew, as surely as I did my name, that my parents were on the island. The link forged the day Cecilia held my hand and said she’d protect me, tugged on me now. Saying she was close and searching for me.
I placed my hand over my belt. But will she find me in time?
“Bring me a beer.”
I jumped.
“How much longer?”
“Five more minutes.” I trudged to the fridge and pulled out two beers. “It’s steak-and-eggs hash. Your favorite.”
Humming, Mal’s hand slipped up my thigh as I bent over with his drinks. A shiver of disgust stood my hairs on end.
“No one can compete with your steak hash, a chroí.”
A chroí.
Heart.
But you don’t have one of those.
I penned the retort in. I did not doubt for a second that Mal was willing to have my boys killed. Knowing him and the bottomless depths of his jealousy, he was dying for me to give him a reason.
I would play house and remain quiet until my family and loves found me. I had to believe they would.
Mal polished off half the bottle before I turned around. It would soon join the growing collection in front of him.
“Where were you today?” I asked as I picked up the spatula. “You left me for so long, I thought I’d be forced to have an accident outside the bathroom.”
He grunted. “Lost track of time. Won’t happen again. My business is finished. We’re set to leave on Friday.”
Friday at noon, I assume. I formed four wells in my hash, and cracked the eggs in them as I thought. I have to be careful.
“Are we taking that boat outside?” I asked.
His tone sharpened. “Why?”
“If we’re going by boat, I need seasick pills. Or else I’ll spend the entire trip locked in the bathroom.”
“The boat’s stocked. I’m sure there are pills in there somewhere.”
Confirming that we are leaving by boat.
My gaze drifted out the window to the vessel rocking lazily on the water. If our means of escape was sitting right outside, why were we still here?
I voiced the question aloud.
“I know you’re eager to get home, Arabella.”
Hands slipped around my waist. I went rigid under the kiss on my cheek. He had been touching, rubbing, and calling me sweet names since he came back from wherever he went. What was this man thinking after being separated from his wife for fourteen years?
“That little thing can’t make the trip to our new home in one leg, and stopping to refuel isn’t an option. Don’t worry, a chroí. I’ve taken care of everything.”
It was everything in me not to pull away as he trailed kisses down my throat and across my shoulder. “Where is our new home?”
“It’s a surprise,” he said. “Don’t burn my food.”
Obediently, I stirred the steak strips into the hash and turned off the stove. I served his lunch with a smile and another beer.
“Can I have a hint at least?” I sat across from him, sitting down with a meal I’d have to force down. I never liked steak-and-eggs hash. “Maybe I’ll guess.”