“Your concern for me warms my heart.” Rafe smirks as he presses a hand to his chest. “So should I give the remote trigger a wiggle just to make sure it works, or?—”
“Fucking hilarious.” I glare at him.
“Okay, we’re losing time.” Angelo observes the horizon. “Let’s get this over with.”
Rafe hauls off the kit, and my gaze trails after him until Angelo pulls me up from the lounge.
“He’ll be fine. Come on.”
He helps me down to the swim deck and wheelbarrows me over the side of the other boat.
I slide down onto the deck like a limp bag of bones, and he jumps on after me and helps me into a seat.
A few seconds later, Rafe bolts toward us with a stupid grin on his face. “Boom, motherfuckers. Let’s blow this shit up.”
“Preferably while we’re not right next to it,” Angelo remarks dryly.
Michele navigates the boat, steering us back toward Seattle, and once we’re far enough away, I pull the remote from my hoodie.
“You want to do the honors, pyro?” I offer it to Rafe since he lives for this kind of shit.
He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He presses the button, and the explosion rockets into the sky, pieces of debris raining down like confetti.
“Holy fuck.” Rafe glances back at me. “That was awesome. We need to do that again.”
“They should be fish food now,” Michele says.
“Just get us out of here fast.” Angelo collapses into a seat. “I’m fucking exhausted.”
By the time we arrive in Seattle, I have a narrow window to get to the penthouse before Gabi wakes. After another argument with my brothers, they agree to take me there on the condition that I see Mariella today.
Michele stays with our prisoners, letting me know he’ll keep them alive until I’m ready for them. Angelo and Rafe drive me to the penthouse and help me into the elevator. When it opens, I try to move on my own and end up falling on my ass again.
“Jesus, you’re a stubborn fuck,” Angelo grouses.
“You think?” Rafe laughs.
“You’re getting blood all over the floor.” Angelo looks me over. “Where’s it coming from?”
“It’s just my leg.”
They’re in the process of helping me back up when the door creaks open down the hall.
“Fuck.” Rafe stares at me wide-eyed, making a split-second decision to toss me behind a decorative urn next to the elevator.
“Hey, Gabs.” Rafe positions himself in front of the urn as she approaches, obscuring her view. “What’s up?”
“Umm…nothing.” She pauses, and I can imagine her staring at the blood on the floor in question.
“Hope we didn’t wake you,” Rafe says.
“No. I woke up early.”
There’s a lingering note of sadness in her voice, and I wonder if it’s because I didn’t have time to leave her a note.
“Okay, well, we just need to grab something, and we’ll be out of your hair.”
“Is it just the two of you?” she asks. “I thought I heard someone else.”
