She placed the cocktail on the deck beside him and kissed his cheek.
He groaned his appreciation as her hands slid down his body to his trunks. “Oh yeah, baby, that’s it.” His eyes squeezed tight, his anticipation growing along with his erection.
Tina let out a squeal, and something cold ran the length of his chest instead of her hand. His eyes shot open to find two bruisers standing on the deck. One of them had his arm around her throat, the other stood two feet away, holding a gun.
He sat up. “Hey, what the fuck is going on here?” Unfortunately, he recognised the men and had an inkling this wasn’t going to end well.
“The boss sent us down here to check on you. Have you made the delivery yet?” the bulkier goon who was aiming the gun at his chest asked.
He swallowed the saliva filling his mouth. “Yeah, well, not exactly. I was going to do it this afternoon.”
The goon sneered and shot the girl in the leg then turned the gun on him again.
Tina screamed. Her legs gave way beneath her, but the goon throttling her never moved an inch. She soon returned to her position as the tears slipped down her flushed cheeks.
“Ray, help me!” she whimpered.
In truth, he couldn’t give a flying fuck what happened to her, his survival uppermost in his mind, not hers.
“See, the boss is going to be pissed with you for delaying his instructions. The drugs were supposed to be delivered by twelve at the latest. Instead, here you are, thirty minutes past the deadline, sunning yourself with a scrawny, brainless bitch stroking your knob.”
“Hey, give me a break, it’s been a tough week. I’m entitled to some downtime, man.”
The guy lashed out, pistol-whipping him. The sound of breaking bone filled the air. “Not the fucking attitude the boss expects from you. Where’s the stuff?”
He held his aching jaw, determined not to let the guy know how much pain was coursing through his body. “What? I said I’d deliver it and I will. I’ll get ready now and do it.”
“You’ve had your chance and you’ve royally screwed up. The thing is, the boss doesn’t trust you. He sent us to follow you, and I’ve already reported back to him, informed him you’ve let him down. He’s given us instructions to pick up the stuff and, well…to deal with you and the slag.”
“No. I’m sorry. Look, guys, what’ll it take for you to turn a blind eye? I’ve got money. Go on, let us go, tell your boss the stuff has been delivered and I’ll deposit a hundred grand in each of your accounts.”
The two men glanced at each other.
The one holding Tina raised an eyebrow. “Sounds good to me, mate.”
“All right, just this once. You can make the transfer now, right?”
“Yeah, I’ll get my phone, it’s in the cabin.”
“I’ll get it, tell me where it is.”
“In the bedroom, on the bedside cabinet,” Ray replied, relieved that he’d somehow managed to persuade the men to accept the payoff. Money, the root of all evil and the motivator of many.
The goon disappeared inside and emerged a few seconds later. In his absence, Ray didn’t move, not an ounce of compassion or inclination to try to attempt to rescue Tina. Her life meant nothing compared to his. He was all about sole survival, it had been that way since childhood, since his parents had dumped him outside the church when he was just a nipper, barely out of nappies.
He’d grown up living in various foster homes, not one of them caring enough to want to adopt him, which suited him fine. He drifted between families, causing problems if he didn’t gel with the adults, which always resulted in him moving on to the next one. No one in the system gave the kids credit for having a say in their own destiny. He’d made his own way in life since, made millions in the process by grafting hard and living life to the full when he had a spare few minutes. He’d accomplished his millionaire status at the tender age of twenty-one. How many people could have that tattoo emblazoned on their calf, like he had? Not many he had crossed paths with, that was for sure.
The two goons gave him their bank details and high-fived each other over the transactions when they went through.
Two hundred grand is a drop in the ocean, I can make that money back within a month.
“Right, gents, if you wouldn’t mind leaving us now, Tina and I were about to have a good time, if you know what I mean.”
The one holding Tina around the throat let his hand drop to her heaving, well-proportioned breasts and fondled each one roughly through the flimsy material.
She squirmed and whined, “Please, let me go. You’ve had your money.”
The man holding the gun shook his head. “You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, slapper.” He aimed the gun at Ray.
“No, wait. That wasn’t in the agreement. Kill her if you need to, but let me go, guys, there’s more money where that came from.”
The gun went off anyway. Ray took a bullet to his side. His mouth dropped open. The plea running through his head failed to form into actual words. Shit! What do I do now? He was used to getting his own way once he’d paraded his wealth to coerce someone. None of that seemed to matter with these guys. He clutched his hand to the wound and gasped. Blood trickled through his fingers, and the agony intensified, although he was too much in shock for the pain to register at first. It didn’t take him long to realise that if he didn’t get medical help soon, he was going to die. “Jesus, man, why did you do that? I need to get to the hospital and quickly.”
“What you need and
