Crash Into Me

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.