Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
I glanced at my watch. It was synced with Wylde’s and he was switching off all security cameras in exactly fifteen seconds. “Then stay on my six. Way the fuck back on my six.” I stood and moved toward the pier. Falcon… didn’t.
“The fuck, Deacon,” he hissed. Which was good, ‘cause if he’d given me away, I’d fucking shoot him and deal with the fallout later. “Get the fuckin’ cuff off my ankle.”
I turned and grinned at him. “Stay put, sunshine.”
Falcon continued to sputter but he did it quietly so he got to live. Not that I cared much. I just didn’t want that bastard, Borris, having a fucking heads-up he was being hunted.
Getting on the yacht was surprisingly easy. I’d expected guards and was ready, but the kids had no idea what they were doing. Not only that, but they were light with only two men on the gangway, one inside, and the captain. Taking them out was easy.
Once the captain was knocked out, I dragged all the men off the boat and secured them on the pier. Falcon would get loose eventually and take care of them because he didn’t have much of a fucking choice. Then I made a round on the boat. Borris, the fucker, was passed out in his cabin. What I assumed was cocaine lay in messy lines on a mirror beside the bed. Bastard must have been completely wasted.
I tied him down quickly enough. Fucker just kept snoring. Once I was sure the place was secure, no one else on board, I took the boat out to sea. What I was getting ready to do was going to take some time. And be very noisy. And messy.
The boat had a personal water craft docked, full of gas, and ready to run. Once I was done, I’d anchor the yacht in Davy Jones’s Locker. I just had to make sure I didn’t go so far I didn’t have enough gas to get back to shore. Which was something I’d trained for and knew very well how to do.
I gave it a few hours. Not only did I want Illivitch good and sober when we started, I needed to rest. Though it had taken little effort to dispatch the guards and the one crew member, I’d been awake for close to forty-eight hours and needed my wits about me. Borris wasn’t going anywhere.
I lay down on a bench in the wheelhouse. It was actually quite comfortable. With the ocean gently rocking the boat and the sound of waves hitting the sides, it was easy to drift off.
I woke to the sounds of Borris Illivitch yelling at the top of his lungs, angry as shit. Yeah. He was good and pissed. He had no idea exactly what kind of trouble he was in or he’d be sobbing in fear. Oh well. There was time enough for that later.
I got to my feet and headed below deck where I’d left Illivitch. Sitting on the top step, was Falcon.
“Christ,” I swore, kicking the other man half-heartedly so he had to catch himself before he tumbled below deck. “What the fuck are you doin’ here, man?”
“Rocket’s orders. Do what you want to the bastard, but I’m here on behalf of Grim Road. You do this in our territory, it becomes our business.”
“You’re here to babysit me, motherfucker. I don’t need it.”
“No?” He raised an eyebrow. “Seems to me you do. Besides, I got a better boat than that pissy little water scooter.” He stood, leaning against the railing. “You do plan on sinkin’ the fuckin’ boat. Right?”
“I don’t fuckin’ need this,” I muttered, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Stay or go. Don’t give a fuck. But stay out of my fuckin’ way.”
Without waiting for an acknowledgment, I descended the ladder. Illivitch’s quarters were in the aft of the ship at the end of the passageway. Illivitch’s angry shouts bellowed from behind the door.
I shoved the door open and sneered at the man tied to the bed. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Cliché, but I didn’t give a fuck. The more painful I could make it for this man the better satisfied I’d be. Which included cheesy villain lines.
“I’ll fuckin’ kill --” He stopped mid-sentence as he got a good look at me. “D-Deacon? What the fuck?” Yeah. Motherfucker had a right to be nervous. He knew what I was capable of.
“I warned you. I let you go before because you were of more use to me alive than dead, but I found out that was a mistake on my part. One I won’t repeat.”
“I haven’t done anything, Deacon.” He lifted his chin and tried for an air of authority, like he fully expected me to not only believe him but release him immediately.
“Oh? What about your stepdaughter?”