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Chapter Twenty-Three

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Brandon kept Jaia pinned beneath him as the rifle shots rang out. Boyd veered left to get them out of range. The instant they stopped, Brandon lifted his head to risk a look.

The powerboat was to the starboard, turning toward them and coming on fast. Travis and Groz were both hunkered down in the bow on their phones trying to get help. Callum was crouched close to Brandon, looking ready to dive on top of him and Jaia. From the sound of the engine Boyd had the throttle wide open, racing them toward shore.

“It’s gonna be close,” Boyd shouted over the noise of the wind and engine. “But I think we can make it to the marina before they get within range.”

“We’re going to have to risk it,” Travis yelled back, quickly dialing someone else. “There’s nowhere else to go.”

Brandon understood what he meant. The five of them were armed with just pistols, while the guys chasing them had at least one rifle.

They were automatically outgunned. If they turned toward the open sea to escape, the other boat would eventually chase them down. The marina was close enough to make a run for it, and there would be other people there.

Whoever was chasing them would have to be suicidal to risk an all-out attack there with potentially dozens of witnesses around. And Jaia was borderline hypothermic. She needed to get ashore immediately, warmed up and taken to the hospital to be thoroughly checked over.

“Keep going,” Brandon said, praying it was the right decision.

He hated that his friends’ and Boyd’s lives were now directly in danger too. But if they got ashore quick enough, they might be able to reach their vehicles and escape before the other boat came within rifle range.

Jaia was silent and still beneath him, lips blue, face pinched and dark eyes wide. His heart broke for her. She’d been through hell today, was still in shock, and he would do anything to end this threat and keep her safe.

“Hang on,” Boyd suddenly called out.

Brandon put his head down and tightened his hold on Jaia as they hit a trough. An icy wall of water crashed down on them, soaking them completely.

The boat shot upward, going airborne over the top of a crest, and landed with a hard thud. Jaia shuddered and he cursed inwardly, all their efforts to keep her dry and warm ruined.

He lifted off her and wrapped the Mylar blanket tighter around her, hoping to trap as much heat against her skin as possible. There was no time to take off her wet sweats, and it wasn’t safe for her to sit up with the shooter closing in.

Boyd turned them suddenly, veering hard right. They crested another wave and flew over it, narrowly avoiding being swamped again when they landed.

Brandon glanced over his shoulder. The other boat had corrected course to race after them, slowly gaining ground. He looked back at shore, the marina only a handful of miles away.

They hit another trough, flew up the back of the wave and landed with another jarring thud. Then the engine made a grinding, gurgling sound. The boat slowed.

Oh, shit, no...

“Cal,” Boyd called out from the stern, his demeanor and voice eerily calm.

Callum leapt over them to try and help troubleshoot the engine and get them back to full speed.

“Noah’s dispatching a team to the marina and coordinating with the local sheriff,” Travis said, loud enough for everyone to hear. “They’re en route.”

Great, but they wouldn’t get here in time to stop these assholes. Brandon checked the other boat. “Ah, shit.” It was gaining faster now. “What’s the problem?” he yelled to Boyd and Callum, trying to shield Jaia from getting any wetter.

“Overheating,” came the unwanted response.

Damn. If they slowed down any more, they were in big trouble.

“We’re not gonna make the marina in time,” Boyd said, cutting left. “I’m going to bring us into the dunes to the north. We’ll have to make a run for it.”

Over the top of the bouncing bow, Brandon could see the beach looming ahead of them, and the golden mounds of the dunes stretching out behind it. It wasn’t an ideal landing spot, and it would be a fucking nightmare to run through the soft sand while under rifle fire, but they were out of options.

Groz shoved his phone into his hip pocket. “Coast Guard’s been alerted. They’re sending a cutter, and a helo’s eight to ten minutes out.”

Too late to help them before they reached the beach.

Jaia twisted her head to look up at him. She was so pale, shivering hard, her wet hair flying in the wind. “Wh-what do I d-do?”

He clenched his jaw. She was in no condition to run for her life and carrying her through the soft sand would only slow them even more. They would both be easy targets. The attackers wanted them both dead. His and Jaia’s only chance was to split up while making the attackers think she was still with them.

“You’re staying here,” he told her.

Terror flashed across her face. “No—”

“Cal. Boyd,” he said, turning to look at him. “You got her?”

Both men nodded, Boyd still steering them toward the beach. “We got her,” Callum said, weapon in hand.

Brandon trusted them to protect Jaia, knew they would sacrifice themselves to save her if it came down to it. “Drop me close to shore and haul ass to the marina.”

“N-no,” Jaia argued, her fingers digging into his forearm.

“It’s the only way,” he told her. “I’ll make it look like I’m carrying you, and they’ll come after me. Now stay down.” He pushed her flat, held her there as more spray came over the bow.

“We’re going with you.”

Travis and Groz were both staring at him, faces set. “No way, I can’t let you,” he said.

Groz snorted. “Let us? Fuck you. We’re coming.”

He couldn’t stop them. And their expressions made it clear they were daring him to try. He glanced toward the beach, his throat tightening. There was no time to argue, the shore was getting close now.

He nodded, swallowed hard. “Either of you get shot doing this, I’ll kick your asses after.”

They both grinned at him, and Travis clapped a hand on his back. “Like to see you try, brother.”

“Twenty seconds and I’m gonna cut the engine,” Boyd called out.

Travis and Groz both drew their weapons and crept to the bow. The other boat was still back there, slowly gaining on them.

Brandon lifted more off Jaia, got his socks and boots back on and stripped the blankets from her, rolling them into a log. “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m gonna need these.”

She turned to her side and opened her mouth to no doubt yell at him to stay put, but he cut off whatever she was going to say with a short, hard kiss and pulled back to stare into her eyes. Dark, beautiful eyes he could get lost in.

He hoped he got the chance to again.

“Stay put and do whatever Callum and Boyd tell you,” he said, cupping her cheek in his palm.

Her eyebrows snapped together in a fierce frown. “You—”

“Brace,” Boyd yelled.

Brandon straddled her and kept his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place as Boyd suddenly cut the engine and swung them hard ninety degrees. The boat rose over the crest of a wave and bounced as it skidded toward shore.

“Let’s go,” Travis said, leaping over the bow, pistol in hand. Groz followed.

Laying the rolled blankets across his shoulders, hoping it was enough to sell the ruse, Brandon jammed his own weapon into his waistband, then jumped up and followed. His boots hit the water, meeting sand less than a foot beneath the surface.

He charged after the others without looking back. Behind him, the zodiac’s engine roared back to life, Boyd heading south back for the marina.

Just get her out, he prayed silently. Just get Jaia clear.

Groz was in the lead as they raced across the wet stretch of sand sloping up the beach, heading for the dunes behind it. His feet and hands were numb, his legs freezing.

The wet, packed sand gave way to a softer, drier stretch as they moved away from the water. He stumbled up the first dune, chanced a quick glance back over his shoulder. Boyd was speeding for the marina, and as Brandon had hoped, the other boat was coming fast toward the beach, coming after him. Almost within rifle range already.

Facing forward again, he gritted his teeth and put on a burst of speed, following his buddies through the maze of dunes toward the thick stretch of forest beyond it. He raced around the edge of a dune and started up the front of another, ducked as the distinctive crack of a rifle came behind him. He didn’t hear the whine of the bullets, but bursts of sand kicked up to the left where he’d just been.

The ruse had worked, and he no longer needed the blankets. Brandon dumped them and sprinted with all his strength. His boots pounded over the loose sand, his heart racing. Ahead of him, Groz had reached the trees. Travis was almost there.

More shots cracked out behind him. Then quick muzzle flashes answered from the trees. Groz and Travis laying down covering fire for him.

He put his head down and kept running, his muscles burning, straining...

Just as another burst of rifle shots peppered the dune.