Mattheus’ cheeks redden, and he balls his hands into fists.
“Get a handle on yourself, Mattheus,” Heath scolds. “He’s taunting you, and you’re letting him.”
“He’s talking really big for a guy about to die.”
Overhead, lightning splits the sky seconds before thunder claps so loud it’s nearly deafening. The air charges around us, winds whipping up out of nowhere. The boat begins to rock.
Bring the storm. I smile.
“Was it supposed to storm today?” Mattheus asks the captain.
“Nothing was on the radar,” he replies as he looks around nervously.
A storm breeds chaos. Chaos means mistakes will be made. And that can mean our chance for escape is a lot closer than we think.
“Here comes the bride,” Tori calls out in a sing-song voice moments before Emma is pulled out by the two women who were told to prepare her.
Despite the death we’re likely facing, my breath is stolen by the sight of Emma in white. It’s a simple dress, falling to her knees. The bodice is tight while the rest of the dress is loose and airy. Wind whips at it.
It tugs at her hair.
She’s pale, her eyes wide.
“Good. We need to get these papers inside. Sign them so we can get his ceremony going,” Heath tells Mattheus. Emma’s birth brother grins happily, then leans down and signs his name.
I turn my attention back to Emma.
Armed guards surround us. They’ll make the escape a lot harder—but not impossible if I can disarm the guy next to me.
“There. Signed. Now, when will my money be in my account?”
Heath looks down at the papers, then smiles, closes the folder, and hands it to the captain. “Right away.” Heath slings an arm around Mattheus’s shoulders and guides him toward the edge of the ship. “Brother,” he adds.
Mattheus grins at him, victory etched in every line of his face.
Because he doesn’t see what’s coming.
I do.
Heath shoves Mattheus overboard into the angry sea. He screams as he falls, but I don’t wait for him to do the same to me. I slam my heel down onto the foot of the guard who’s on my left. He loosens enough that I rip my arm free. I slam it into his gut, then rip his weapon from its holster, aim at the guard closest to me, and fire.
He goes down.
Chaos erupts as I sprint toward Emma.
Tori withdraws a knife and presses it to Emma’s throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” she says. “Put it down, or I’ll paint her pretty neck.”
I freeze.
A foot slams into the back of my left knee, then my right, dropping me moments before the gun is wrenched from my hand.
“Just what was your plan? Fight your way off a ship full of armed guards?” Heath comes around in front of me. “What a shame.”
As he’s glaring down at me, a man comes forward, wearing slacks and a white polo shirt. “Mr. Slater,” he says.
“What is it?” Heath snaps, though he keeps his gaze on me.
“You said to contact you if there was another ship in the vicinity?”
