Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
“You’ll have to ask my driver to bring me in closer.”
“Who’s your driver?” he asks, looking toward the helm. “Who have I got to kill?”
Rose’s head pops up. “Me.” And she grins, all toothy, a lot nervous.
“Oh, boy,” Brad breathes, as my laughter slowly dries up, my eyes like saucers.
“Rose?”
“Hi, darling.” She waves tentatively, but she’s definitely smug.
“You’re in St. Lucia.”
“Yeah, Tank might be quitting.” She comes to the edge of her boat and leans over, trying to see into ours. “Where is she? Is she okay?”
I glance back. Pearl looks guilty. “Wait. Did you have something to do with this?”
She nibbles her lip, remaining silent, as Brad glares at her in disbelief.
“She may have enlightened us on a few details,” Rose says.
I can’t fucking believe this. “I’m fucking furious!”
“Yes, thought you would be.” Rose takes one step back.
“Nolan?” Brad murmurs, his shock and anger subsiding for a moment.
“He’s conscious,” Beau says, holding her mobile up. “Goldie’s driving him to the emergency room.”
Relief. It’s rife. On all of us. But I’m still fucking savage.
“You’re in so much trouble,” James growls, reaching for the boat and pulling it over. “So much fucking trouble, Beau Kelly, I can’t even talk.”
“You sound like you’re talking just fine.”
“Pregnant!”
“I’m okay,” she breathes. “And so are you.”
Jesus Christ. Okay, she’s right. But still. “I’m mad at you too,” I declare. The ex-cop in her will never go away. Our Lara Croft.
“Do you want a ride or not?” Rose asks. “It’s a really long way back to shore.”
My lip must look deformed it’s so curled.
“Fuck it, I’m swimming,” James mutters, jumping in.
I look at him in the water. Feel my exhaustion. My pain. But . . . brothers. I dive in after him, and once Brad’s helped Pearl onto the girl’s boat—where the fuck did they get that boat?—he’s not far behind.
“They’re all grounded,” I declare.
“Forever,” James grunts. “And beyond that.”
“They’ve gone too far this time,” Brad says, tossing a filthy look back at the boat as we start a leisurely swim back to the shore while the girls chug along beside us. “Rose and Beau are rubbing off on Pearl. Not acceptable. Sort your women out.”
“Just let us know if you want to climb onboard,” Rose sings.
Oh, they’ll be sorted out. “Fuck off, Rose,” I pant.
“There’s no need to be like that.”
“We had it covered.” I spit out some water.
“Sure you did.”
“We had it fucking covered!”
“I’d save your energy. It’s still quite a way to shore.”
“I’m going to kill her,” I mumble. “It’ll be slow. Painful.”
And that’s what I do the entire way to shore. I plan her punishment. What the hell was she thinking?
73
BRAD
* * *
We make it to the shore, virtually crawling up the sand, and find the others looking pretty sorry for themselves with various injuries. “Any fatalities?” James asks, looking around at all the bodies lying around. “Any of ours?”
“None of ours.”
Leon appears—God love that kid—with a tray of beers and a pack of smokes. He’s limping. “You okay?” I ask.
“Just a graze, B-Boss,” he says, nodding. “The girls just took Pearl to the ladies to try and clean her up.”
Try. I nod. It’s probably wise they took her. I feel like I might explode with the pressure of my anger. I need to cool off before I take in more injuries. “Thanks.” I swipe up a bottle and drop to the sand, lighting up and swigging. This cigarette. My God, it’s glorious. And the beer? The salt in my mouth is washed away with each swig.
James lowers to my side, his face still twisted, and Danny on the other, his scar deep. I won’t tell them to chill out. I lost my shit when Pearl took a trip to an ATM alone. This is beyond my comprehension.
We look at King’s boat bobbing in the distance.
“He was definitely dead, wasn’t he?” Danny says, exhaling.
“That crossed my mind too,” James muses.
“I checked,” I tell them.
“You checked his pulse?”
I frown. “No.” I didn’t have time to check his pulse.
“Rule number one,” James says. “Always check the dead man’s pulse.” Something appears in front of us, held up by James.
“What’s that?” Danny asks.
A small click sounds.
And the boat blows up in the distance, lighting up the sky, forcing me to shield my eyes. “Well, there’s definitely no need to check for a pulse now,” I muse, taking a swig and a drag.
“Did anyone think to move the money off the boat?” James asks as what looks like a swarm of butterflies flutters in the air around the boat in the distance. Dollar bills. Pretty.
“Yeah,” Danny says dryly. “While being shot at, blown up, and discovering my wife’s moonlighting as a getaway driver, I remembered the money.”
“What a shitter,” I muse.
“A real shitter,” Danny agrees, stretching out his leg and wincing. “How the fuck did you know King sold all his guns?”