Dark Tide, page 21
Rion hooks his fingers under my chin and tilts my face up toward him. “No. You're not going. We are.”
All the air rushes from my lungs in one giant whoosh, and I blink at him. “No. You can't.”
It’s one thing to help me escape custody or even leave the country, but he can’t be serious about leaving permanently.
His dark eyes flicker with warmth. “I can.”
“You're going to leave?”
“I’m going to leave.”
“But…” I cast a quick peek at Cutter, but his eyes are locked on the road as we approach the docks. “But this is your life. These are your friends. This is—”
He silences me with the press of his lips. Soft and slow and so different than the last time we were together. His hand cups my cheek, and when he pulls back, he presses his forehead against mine. “I have to go.” He drags his head back so he can meet my gaze. “I already had my hand on the doorknob. By the time I learned the truth about you, I already had one foot out the door. This is me taking that final step. Time for me to move on from this. From the violence and the blood and the death. It's time just to live.”
Emotion lodges in my throat, and I try to swallow through it but only manage a sob. “We're really doing this?”
He presses his forehead against mine again and sucks in a deep breath. “We’re really doing this.”
And we’re never coming back.
We both know it. There’s no way. If I ever set foot in the States again, I’ll be arrested. I slept with the person who was the target of my investigation. I did it even after knowing who he was. I helped him leave the hospital, knowing he was wanted for questioning. And then I went into the system…and given the time, I would have done anything I had to in order to make sure he was safe.
I belong in prison. So does he.
And we’re just going to ride off into the sunset like none of this happened?
“Rion…” his name crosses my lips on a sigh.
“No.” He pulls back and shakes his head. “This isn’t negotiable. And you’re not going to overanalyze it or punish yourself for what you’ve done. We’re both done punishing ourselves.”
Cutter slams on the brakes and throws the SUV into park. Doors slam around us, and through the window, I catch a glimpse of Warwick, Valentina, E, and Cutter.
I motion outside. “What about them?”
He cracks a smile, a real, true, genuine panty-melting, breath-stealing one. “They’ll fucking figure it out without me.”
“You're not worried?”
Rion shorts. “I'm always worried. But they’re all big boys and girls. They can make their own decisions about their lives just like I can. I can’t force them to leave. They need to make the choice, just like I’m doing.”
“And you’re choosing me?”
His grin blurs through my tears. “I’m choosing you.”
He kisses me again, and the door jerks open.
Warwick waves us out. “We gotta go. Preacher just told us emergency dispatch has already been sent to the crash.”
Rion climbs from the car with me still in his arms and sets me onto my feet. “You okay?”
I nod as the world spins a little, but I regain my balance and scan the people surrounding me. We spent years looking for these men. Years scouring a vast ocean in the middle of the country for five men who seemed to vanish into the waves like ghosts.
Now, they’re all standing in front of me—along with the head of one of the most powerful, notorious, and violent families in the Midwest—and I don’t have the slightest urge to turn them in.
These people are bad. There’s no doubt about it. But they’ve also shown compassion and understanding I wouldn’t have thought criminals like them were capable of.
Valentina approaches. “Well, this wasn't how I imagined things would work out, but…” She shrugs, humor dancing in her amber eyes.
“I'm sorry I'm taking him from you.”
She barks out a laugh and glances at Rion. “You're not taking him from me. He was never mine.” Her warm eyes meet mine again. “I feel like he's been yours since the moment he walked into that bar that night.”
Rion wraps his arm around me and nods to Cutter and Warwick. “I'm sorry we don't have more time.”
Warwick drags Rion in for a hug and slaps him on the back. “You’ve done more for us than I ever could have asked. You didn't know me at all when you signed on simply because Cutter said I needed help. I wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for you.”
“Well,” Rion cracks a grin, “that's all true.” He smacks Warwick on the shoulder. “You’re welcome, by the way. Just remember, Preacher’s stitching isn’t nearly as clean as mine. Might be something you want to think about before the next time you get stabbed.”
Valentina wraps her arms around him next and kisses him on each cheek. She whispers something in Italian into his ear.
Rion chuckles. “If that means what I think it means, I can't wait.”
Cutter’s focus darts between the two of them. “What did you say to him?”
Valentina just flashes him a tiny smile and scoots away, leaving the two men to stare each other down. The tension between them is almost palpable. When I've seen them together, it's been nothing short of a testosterone-fest. This moment is no exception. It’s like watching two lions stare each other down before they lunge at each other’s throats. Both have arms crossed over their chests, jaws tense.
Rion’s the one to make the first move. He steps forward and pulls Cutter into his arms like nothing ever went on between them. “I'll see you on the other side.”
Cutter smacks his back then backs away. “Watch your six.”
“You too. I'm not gonna be here to patch up your ass anymore.”
He chuckles and shrugs. “Preacher can do a pretty decent job if he needs to.”
Rion turns back to me, takes my hand, and drags me toward him. “We need to go.”
I don't know what else to say to these guys. I barely know them, but they’ve changed my life in such a dramatic way, I feel like I owe them everything and also should be blaming them.
It's a strange dichotomy I'm not sure will ever go away. One that will always exist between Rion and me just as much as this feeling we have for each other.
He ushers me up onto the boat and boards behind me. I turn back and watch the group on the dock as Rion fires up the engine.
We pull away slowly, out onto the water of Lake Michigan. With new names. A new future.
I wander into the wheelhouse and lower myself into one of the chairs.
Rion examines me. “You sure you're okay? Once we’re out a bit, I’ll patch you up.”
His question bounces around my head as I drag my legs up and wrap my arms around them. “I'm not, but I will be.”
We all will be. I hope.
Rion stares out at the choppy, dark-blue water and points to it. “That water out there…it’s constantly changing. So are we.” He glances at me and gives me a crooked smile.
“That water can drown you.”
He snorts and grins. “Very true, but you’re in luck.”
“Why is that?”
“I know how to swim.” He winks at me. “And I know CPR.”
“Are you suddenly worried about my heart?”
He chuckles and leans in to press a kiss to my lips. “I'm more worried about my own. But I have a lifetime to figure this out.”
“A lifetime, huh?”
He nods. “Wherever the tide may take us.”
Epilogue
RION
SIX MONTHS LATER
Cool water lands on my chest and face, and I jerk up. “What the fuck?”
My relaxing nap on the lounge chair is now in the past. Bright sunlight momentarily blinds me when I try to open my eyes to see who the asshole is. I put my hand up to block it while the water trickles off my body onto the sand.
Fucking Cutter.
I scowl at him. “What was that for, asswipe?”
He grins and tips his head toward the house. “E and the girls said dinner is almost ready. I thought you might be hungry.”
My stomach growls in response. “You could've just told me that instead of dumping water on me.”
He shrugs, a smirk playing at his lips. “What fun would that have been?”
I climb off the lounge chair and stretch. My back and shoulders pop, and I groan.
Cutter drops his nose and looks at me over the rim of his glasses. “Jesus, you sound like an old man.”
“I feel like one.”
The last few years have aged me faster than the time I spent in the Army. If you had asked me when I discharged, I never would have thought that possible.
We make our way up the beach in the late afternoon sun. The sound of laughter floats down from the house toward us. With the windows open to let in the ocean breeze, it isn’t hard to hear the revelry taking place inside. But just looking at it almost makes every muscle in my body ache.
“It's been hard work renovating this place.”
Cutter nods as he climbs the steps. “I don't doubt it.” He turns back to stare out at the ocean. “But you can't beat the fucking view. Makes all the work worth it, right?”
“Definitely.”
The place was little more than a shack when Gabs and I bought it a few months ago, but we’re slowly making it a comfortable place to spend the rest of our new lives—somewhere that won’t extradite us to the States if they ever manage to find us here. It may not have the amenities we’re used to, but the relaxed atmosphere and the company make it home.
Cutter and I step into the house, and Gabriella and the girls all turn toward us where they stand around the kitchen island.
A smile lights up her face when she sees me, and she holds up a beer. “Want one?”
I shake my head and grin back at her. “No. I’m good.”
Six months ago, hell, any time before six months ago, I never would've turned that down. But being here and with her has changed everything completely.
No one is breathing down our necks. Not the feds. Not any of Valentina’s enemies. Not any of the demons of my past. I don’t need to drown myself in booze when I can lose myself in her and this place.
Getting here meant giving up some things that weren’t easy for either of us. Me—my time and connection to the guys, and Gabriella—her friends and family. It’s been much harder for her than for me, that’s for sure. But she’s finally reached a place where she can be happy without feeling guilty.
Cutter slides in behind Valentina and whispers something in her ear, his hands falling protectively over her protruding belly.
I'm surprised they even came. I figured he'd be too protective and worried even to let her fly down here when she told me she was pregnant before we left. I knew Cutter would lose his shit, but the one thing I never anticipated is how much it’s softened him. I didn't even think that was possible, but he almost seems…human sometimes.
Gabriella motions to the set table where Warwick and Grace sit trying to keep Will from fidgeting off Warwick's lap. “Take a seat, hon.”
“Yeah, everybody sit the fuck down.” E's voice echoes through the vaulted ceiling, and he, Eva, and Everly appear carrying large trays of food.
“Where’s Preacher?” I pull out my chair and drop down into it as I scan the house. The place isn’t big, so there aren’t a lot of spaces for him to hide. Yet, he’s managed to disappear several times since everyone arrived a few days ago.
Everly takes a seat next to me and rolls her eyes. “He's in the bedroom working on something.”
“Does he ever take a break?”
The answer is no. Even I know that. Just because his work no longer includes doing shit for us doesn't mean he's not still a workaholic. Between Valentina and the other clients he's picked up who need a little less-than-legal computer work, he stays plenty busy without having to watch our asses too.
Gabriella slides into the chair on the other side of me and kisses my cheek. “I knocked and told him dinner's ready, so hopefully he'll join us in a minute.”
The words barely leave her mouth before he appears from the back hallway rubbing his eyes.
Buck naked.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Warwick places his hand over Will’s eyes. “Kid here, dude!”
Preacher looks down and cringes. “Sorry, sometimes I forget when I’m in the zone. I’ll go throw something on.” He turns his back to us and heads down the hallway.
Gabriella’s hand squeezes my arm. “Uh, was that a tattoo that says, ‘Jesus is my homie’ on his ass?”
I boom out a laugh and motion toward Everly.
She gives a smug smile and shrugs. “He said I could do whatever I wanted.”
E raises an eyebrow. “Are we done talking about Preacher’s ass? Can we eat now?”
Preacher reappears wearing board shorts and a t-shirt and slides in on the other side of Everly. “Why were we talking about my ass?”
Everly waves him off. “Never mind. Let’s eat.”
I look around the table at all the people I wasn’t sure I would ever see again only six months ago. So much has changed in the last year, it's hard to keep track of where we've been.
But it doesn't even matter. All that does is where we settled.
And that's home.
Here.
I never thought I'd be living on a beach in the Maldives with a fugitive former FBI agent, but then again, I never thought I'd be a pirate, either.
Warwick hands Will off to Grace, stands, and clanks his fork against his glass. “It's been a long time since we've all been together.” He pauses for too long, like he’s having trouble finding the words he’s searching for. “There were times when I felt like what we were doing would go on forever, but deep down, I knew that it would have to come to an end eventually.” He sighs and glances down at Grace and Will. “Life as a fisherman definitely doesn't have the same thrills.”
Everyone chuckles, and Grace rolls her eyes. Will giggles on her lap and pulls at her hair.
“But,” Warwick scans each one of us at the table, “knowing I’m making it safer for Grace and Will,” he gazes down at them, “is enough for me to suffer the boredom.” He raises his glass. “I never would've gotten here without you guys. I was floundering and in over my head. I was so far in debt to Il Padrone that I never would've gotten out. All of you made that happen.” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “And I found my best friends in the world.”
“Damn,” I grin at him, “you became a total sappy pussy after I left.”
Warwick scowls at me. “I'm not trying to be sappy. I'm just really happy to see everybody. So…here's to us. The Great Lakes Pirates. May our infamy never end and our names never be known.”
Everyone laughs at his speech and holds up our glasses before taking a drink.
It's fitting really, considering how things ended.
E clears his throat and stands. “I have something to say too.”
Aside from the nasty scar on his neck, he's fully recovered from his injuries from the bombing. And his seafood restaurant will be opening soon, a dream he's had forever. One he never thought would come to fruition.
He raises his glass. “To true friendship. And I hope no one is offended that we chose Preacher and Everly to be our child's godparents.”
A chorus of “what?” goes up around the table.
Eva blushes. “I'm due in about six months.”
All the girls rush around the table to hug her.
I reach out my glass to clink it against E’s “Congratulations. And I'm not offended.” I wave my hand around. “This isn’t exactly the ideal place for us to be godparents.”
He chuckles and clinks his glass with everyone else. “It's not. But I have to say, you can't beat the fucking view. Waves rolling off the ocean, bringing in all kinds of possibilities. Who knows where the tide will take us?”
No one. But I do know where I’ll never be again—back in that dark place. Back in that warehouse. There’s no reason to go back.
Any suspicions anyone in the FBI may have had that we were involved with the hijackings were just that. Suspicions. Gabriella’s disappearance and Robert’s death ended any potential for them to get any information from her that could confirm anything. Preacher has closely monitored everything now that he’s breached the FBI servers, and even without Gabs being able to turn attention to Michael’s men as the potential pirates, it seems her former co-workers already made that leap and traveled down that avenue.
Though the bombing is still a mystery and still an active case, even though it left things unsettled in Chicago, at least most of us are no longer looking over our shoulders.
Gabs and I are free. Warwick and Grace are building their family under the safety net of his father’s business. E and Eva have a plan. The only two still dipping their toes in the pool, so to speak, are Preacher and Cutter, and neither of them will ever go one hundred percent legit. Cutter will never leave Valentina, and Preacher will never give up the challenge hacking brings to his life.
But the point is, everyone has made their own choices. It’s no longer being forced on us by greed, obligations, or situations.
Who would've thought me leaving would finally force the rest of the guys to take a long, hard look at their lives and finally do what each of them really wanted?
I wrap my arm around Gabriella and press a kiss on her temple.
She looks up at me. “What was that for?”
“Nothing. Just happy.”
She raises her eyebrows. “Then, you’re content with where the tide took us?”
I grin at her and look around at everyone. “Very content.”
I hope you enjoyed reading Dark Tide, the final book in The Inland Seas Series. To see more of your favorite Inland Seas characters, check out my Deadliest Sin Series, set in the same world, starting with Wrath: www.books2read.com/DeadliestSin1
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