large enough to accommodate a large yacht out that way, other than the large public marinas, and they’d want to avoid them for good reason.
The plant has twenty-four seven surveillance, but unless it’s an actual trespass of property or FAA airspace restrictions, minor infractions go unreported. Plenty of ships have been known to shore up on the docks during rough weather.
I hope that’s still the case.
We have to get to these pirate fucks.
One wrong move at the wrong time, and Val’s dead. I have no doubt about it. Their failed attempt to kill her before just makes them more determined.
I’m almost screeching out of the parking lot, when a vehicle flies in, blocking my route. Hitting reverse, I back up enough to make it around the SUV.
“They’re inside!” I shout at Anderson.
He hits the gas, moving out of my way and shouting through his window, “I won’t ask where you’re going, but call me if you need backup!”
I don’t want backup, dammit, but I need it.
It just can’t be the FBI. Not yet.
Hitting the call button on my steering wheel, I reconnect with Cash. “Call in everyone. We need all hands on deck for this. And find out where the hell Davis is. He went after the SUV that dropped off Ray!”
“On it, Flint. She’s going to be—”
I hang up. Don’t need anyone telling me she’ll be okay. That everything’s gonna be fine and dandy.
It’s very not okay.
Val’s changed my fucking life. Changed the way I think. Reached down inside me and altered the makeup of my soul.
I’ve been fighting it tooth and nail, pretending it’s not there, but there’s no denying it.
She’s in my head first thing when I wake up and before I drift off to sleep.
She made me feel again.
Living with Val was so easy, so real, right from the start—even when she was a walking amnesia case.
She’s in my marrow, my beating heart, my depths.
This shimmering bright spark I never knew I was missing until it was there, lighting my fire, and I don’t want it fading again.
She can’t be missing.
I want her.
I love her.
Fuck! My fist crashes against the steering wheel.
Hell of a time for a visceral, emotional confession, I know.
But I never stood a chance against those gorgeous gold eyes, that adorable laugh, that rocking body.
Valerie Gerard is candied perfection wrapped in sunshine. And I’ve already laid claim, even if I haven’t done it openly.
I’m not losing her. Not to anyone, especially these savage pukes!
I’m still working myself into a frenzy when Cash’s name appears on the dashboard screen a minute later. I click the answer button on the steering wheel.
“Davis just got there. Same with the others,” Cash says. “He followed the men who dropped off Ray, where they met a boat, and says to turn off the highway a mile before the plant. We have to hit the docks from Waimanalo Gulch or we’ll set off sensors.”
“Copy that.” I hang up and stab my foot harder on the gas pedal.
I’m thankful for every one of these men helping me. I’d already offered them payment, which they’d refused. They don’t want money. They want another shot at Cornaro.
Same justice I’d wanted, once, but now, honestly?
I just want Valerie home.
Safe and sound and in my bed where she belongs. Every night.
I don’t know if I have the patience for a live capture.
I’ll kill that SOB this time. Fucking dismember him.
I turn off the highway, onto a gravel road that goes nowhere, except to the gulch. I’m pissed because this is taking me farther away from Valerie, but it’s the only way in, so I have to deal.
About a quarter of a mile later, I see Davis, standing next to his vehicle. He waves me into the trees.
I turn, slam the truck into park, and leap out. “Was she hurt?”
“No. She was walking fine, last I saw. I’m sorry, man, I couldn’t overtake them. There were four dudes in the boat and two in the truck.”
Shit.
They came in force. Outnumbered and outgunned us.
I could kick my own ass for failing to do more to secure my stretch of beach, though there’s only so much a private citizen can do to stop a water landing.
Davis is built like a brick shithouse of a man. Solid and wide and tall. Something in his tone has me wondering.
“How many drove away with her?” I ask, scratching my neck.
“Only the two guys in the truck. They were a diversion. The rest were in the ship.”
“The four on the boat?”
He