Crash Into Me (47 page)

The
girl missed him and fell overboard. To her certain death.

Sonny
slammed her hands down again, tears of panic and frustration scalding her eyes.
If she didn’t get out of these cuffs, she couldn’t help Carly. Or James. And to
get out of the cuffs, she had to defeat JT.

Her
fingertips tingled but it wasn’t enough. Her hands wouldn’t work and her rib
cage was on fire, burning with every intake of breath. She couldn’t pull the
knife from the scabbard—or maintain a grip on it, in any case.

“What’s
this?” JT asked, coming into the cab. Pushing her aside with humiliating ease,
he pulled the short knife from the leather sheath and looked at its wicked
blade. “I was going to save the cutting for Carly.”

Staring
at the serrated edge, Sonny backed away slowly, moistening her dry lips.

He
tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, then tested the blade’s sharpness
with his fingertip. “Ouch,” he said with a grin.

Outside,
there was another splash. James!

JT
flinched at the sound. “That sneaky son of a bitch,” he murmured, looking out
into the dark and clucking his tongue in appreciation. “Well, now they’ll both
drown.”

Sonny
flexed her fingers, feeling blood returning to her cuffed hands. The pain was
fierce and she smiled, relishing it. Carly and James were alive, God willing,
and although they couldn’t climb aboard, or swim back to land, they could tread
water until help arrived.

Which
would be soon, as long as Grant had sent someone to look for her.

Now
was the time to stall rather than fight. She retreated until her back hit the
wood siding at the edge of the cab. “Did you have an affair with Olivia?”

“Yes,”
he said, his cold eyes sweeping down her body once again. “And unlike you, she
was a luscious piece.” He reached out and grabbed the chain between her wrists,
holding her hands out of play while he touched the blade to her cheek. “Not
that I won’t enjoy having you screaming and begging beneath me.”

She
laughed at the idea, but it hurt so much she stopped. “What about Sheila?”

He
studied her face, not amused by her bravado. “I may have”—he slid the tip of
the knife down her chest—“thrown her a bone.”

Sonny
focused on regulating her breathing. Every time she inhaled, she felt a sharp
stab in her side. He may have bruised a few ribs when he kicked her. “Did she
pretend you were Ben the whole time you were in bed together,” she panted, “or
only when she came?”

JT’s
eyes returned to hers. With a deft movement, he sliced her sweater in half,
exposing her bra. “You’re a ballsy little bitch,” he murmured, nodding his
approval. “It will be a pleasure to break you.”

Sonny
drew in another shallow breath. JT was planning to rape and torture her before
he killed her. It was her worst nightmare, but she would endure him. And when
the time came, she would overpower him.

“Ben
is your best friend,” she said as he traced the edge of her bra with the tip of
his knife. “Why did you kill Olivia? How could you do that to him?”

“She
was a cheating whore. I did it
for
him.”

Another
piece of the puzzle clicked into place, something she should have considered
before. “Did you lie to the police for him, too? Claiming to be his alibi?”

“Of
course.” He slid the blade down her stomach, skimming over her flesh. “Those
fools took forever to find O’Shea.”

“How
did you know he’d confess?”

“I
didn’t,” he admitted. “That was just a stroke of luck.”

“What
about the others? What did they do to deserve being brutally murdered?”

“Worthless
sluts,” he said with a sigh. “I did the world a favor.”

“You’ll
never get away with this,” she gasped, struggling for air. She didn’t have to
feign her fear.

He
shrugged. “It hardly matters. I knew it was over for me the minute I saw you
standing in my bedroom.”

“You
won’t make it out alive.”

He
cut away the front of her trousers, nicking her hip. “Neither will you.”

One moment they were punching it through
the increasing fog, catching up with
Destiny,
and the next she was gone.

“What
happened?” Ben asked, searching the horizon.

“He
cut the lights,” Stephen said, reaching up to do the same. In an instant, they
were cloaked in darkness.

Fear
gripped him. “Why?”

“Either
he realized he was being followed, or he stopped to…”

Ben’s
chest tightened like a vise. “Go faster.”

“I
can’t. In these conditions, we’d be right on top of them before I had a chance
to react.”

Ben
tried to stay calm, but it was impossible. He couldn’t bear the thought of
Carly in danger. “I’m going out on deck,” he said, figuring he could see better
from there.

“Good
idea.”

Adrenaline
rushing through his veins, he walked to the bow, eyes straining to see through
the mist. When he caught up with JT, he was going to fucking kill him. Beat the
hell out of him first. Then wrap his fingers around his throat and squeeze.

So
intent was he on vengeance, he almost missed them. The fog was patchy,
intermittent, but between the breaks he caught a glimpse. “Up ahead,” he
shouted to Stephen, who nodded and changed direction slightly, making a beeline
toward
Destiny.

In
its cab, Ben could see the vague outline of two figures, locked in struggle.
From their respective heights he knew it was JT and Sonny.

No
one else was visible. Where was Carly?

It
felt as though
Captain Trips
was moving in slow motion. Christ, he could
swim faster than this!

The
sound of splashing alerted him to his daughter’s location. About twenty feet
away from
Destiny,
there were two dark heads bobbing on the surface of
the water. When he saw them, tears of relief sprung into his eyes. “Carly!” he
shouted, leaning out over the rail.

“Daddy,”
she cried back. “Help me!”

Ben
didn’t hesitate. Carly needed him. There was no other choice to make. Taking a
second to flip off his shoes, he leapt onto the railing and dove into the dark
Pacific. The water was bracingly cold. Life-affirming. He reached her in a few
sure strokes.

“It’s
James,” she panted, her breath puffing out in front of her. In the moonlight,
her eyes were black with fright. “I can’t hold him up.”

James
was in the crook of her arm, unconscious. Rivulets of watery blood streaked
down his ghostly-pale face. “Give him to me,” he ordered, shoving his forearm
under James’ chin. The boy’s body was limp and his skin was icy. “Can you
swim?” Ben asked Carly. If he had to, he’d drop James to save her. In a heartbeat.

No
way would he let his daughter go under. No way.

“I
think I’m okay,” she said, teeth chattering.

“Are
you hurt?”

“No,
Daddy, I’m just cold.”

Ben
looked over his shoulder, keeping James’ head above the surface as he treaded
water. JT and Sonny were out of his line of sight. While he watched, Stephen
edged
Captain Trips
as close as he could to
Destiny.
Jumping
distance, as a matter of fact.

“That
crazy bastard,” he breathed, starting to swim. With his back to the boats, he
couldn’t see what Stephen was doing, but he didn’t have to. He knew the kid was
climbing onto the railing and hopping the gap. Acting a fool.

Risking
his neck for a woman he didn’t even know.

Tears
burned Ben’s eyes again, but he didn’t have time for them. He had to get Carly
and James out of the water before he could help Stephen.

Ben
knew JT was stronger than Sonny. He could probably strangle her in a matter of
moments. Perhaps her FBI training had kept her alive this long, but JT wouldn’t
continue to toy with her now.

Ben
pushed that thought aside and focused on the task at hand, swimming as fast as
he could. James wasn’t big, but he was heavy. Ben didn’t know how Carly had
held him up at all. She reached
Captain Trips
before he did, climbing
the aluminum ladder leading to the deck.

Getting
James up the ladder was difficult. With Carly’s help, he managed, bracing his
weight on one arm and wrapping the other around James’ midsection. When James’
back hit the deck, none too gently, he began to sputter and cough.

Carly
burst out crying.

Ben
put James on his side, and Carly cradled the boy’s head lovingly while he
vomited sea water all over her lap.

“I
think he’ll be all right,” he said with a grimace, glancing toward
Destiny.

“No,”
she said, grabbing Ben’s wrist. “Don’t go over there.”

Ben
would do anything in the world for Carly. Anything but this.

Taking
her face in his hands, he planted a kiss in the middle of her forehead. “I love
you, baby, but I have to,” he said, and rose to his feet.

When
he heard the gunshot, he knew he was too late.

JT dragged her to the cabin floor to cut
away the rest of her clothes, so intent on terrorizing her he didn’t hear the
commotion outside.

“Please
don’t hurt me,” she cried out suddenly, trying to cover the sound. “I’ll do
anything you want. Please don’t kill me.”

He
smiled, delighted to hear her beg. “You’ll do anything I want anyway.”

“Yes,”
she agreed, sobbing. “Anything you like. Whatever you say. Please.”

He
pursed his mouth, deliberating.

Stephen
Matthews exploded through the cabin door before JT could make up his mind. “Get
off her,” he said, pointing Sonny’s SIG Sauer 9mm at JT.

She
hoped to God he knew how to use it.

JT
straightened slowly. “I don’t think you have the balls to shoot me, junkie.”

Stephen
clenched his jaw, but his aim didn’t waver. “Try me.”

JT
switched the knife to his left hand. The blade glinted in the dim light. Sonny
knew JT would go for his gun. With his body turned toward Stephen, she could
see the .38 in the waistband of his jeans.

Just
inches from her reach.

He
went for it at the same time she did. And Stephen pulled the trigger, hitting
JT dead-on, straight through the chest.

Sonny
screamed as the bullet tore into him. She couldn’t help it. Like JT, she hadn’t
been sure Stephen would go through with it, and the noise was incredibly loud.
Feeling the full force of the impact, she recoiled as if the bullet had struck
her.

The
pistol’s report echoed across the sea, drowning out all other sound.

JT
fell back against the wooden siding, arms akimbo, eyes glazed. Stephen must have
hit him in the heart, because the wound hardly even bled. A perfect kill shot.

Making
sure, she raised her fingers to JT’s neck, feeling for a pulse. There was
nothing. “He’s dead,” she said, lifting her gaze to Stephen’s.

Her
half-brother lowered the weapon. “I killed him?”

She
nodded.

His
face went green. “I guess I didn’t want to shake his hand after all,” he said,
swallowing. With a final glance at the neat hole in JT’s chest, he set the
pistol on the dash, staggered out toward the railing, and was violently ill.

Shaken
to the core, Sonny crawled out from underneath JT’s dead body. Sitting with her
back to the wall, she drew her knees up protectively and brought the tatters of
her clothes together with trembling hands. She didn’t feel sick, but she’d
never been particularly squeamish. She didn’t feel anything, other than aches
and pains. She was just…numb.

Stephen
was leaning over the rail, still retching, when Ben appeared in the doorway of
the cabin, soaking wet. Puddles formed beneath his feet and steam rose from his
clothes. He glanced at JT, making sure he was dead before he kneeled before
her. He must be cold, like she was, but the concern in his eyes warmed her more
than any blanket could have.

“Carly
and James?” she whispered.

“They’re
safe.”

He
looked down at her cuffed wrists. Very gently, he reached out and cupped her
chin, turning her head to one side to study her face. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not
much,” she said, giving him a wobbly smile. It wouldn’t stay in place. “He
didn’t get the chance.”

Ben
squinted at JT, as if he wanted him to die a few more times. Along with anger,
she saw relief on his face, and a trace of regret. “I should have known you
wouldn’t need me to play your knight in shining armor.”

Tears
filled her eyes. He was wrong. She needed him desperately. With an inarticulate
cry, she leaned forward, putting her head against his chest as he wrapped his
arms around her.

No
longer numb, she pressed her face to his neck and wept. She cried for Rigo and
for her mother, for lost chances and broken dreams. And then she cried for
herself. “I love you,” she said, unable to hold her feelings back.