Three.
Fuck.
A scrawny man lay flat on the bottom of the boat, pointing a gun at us.
Goddamnit. I wanted to scream and cry and kick the sand with my feet. I should throw sand in his eyes. Knock the gun out of his hand. Tackle his skinny ass down. Drag him with us back into the boat if needed and then throw him overboard later. Yet, in shock, I stood there frozen, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Sneaky, fucking Tom. How did we not think about this scenario? We were fucked.
“Hello, Hunter,” he said, sitting up.
The man was short, with greasy, thinning, sandy hair and a face resembling a taxidermy gone wrong, with one of his eyes bulging out. His outfit was similar to Tom’s, but it was all black. The man gave me a once-over and made a low whistle.
“Jack, at least now I know you’re good at something.” Hunter shook his head with a humorless laugh. “You can hide in a small boat.”
Jack glared at Hunter and jerked his hand with the gun. “Move back.”
I lifted my palms up as we stepped back. Jack got out of the boat and stuffed the gun into his pants, his eyes drifting to something behind us. Or someone.
“Did you really think I would let you just take my boat?” Tom called out, his voice like sandpaper against a raw wound. He and Garry sauntered to us, both grinning like sharks.
Up close, I could see that Garry had a face made for radio, with a potato nose and a huge bottom lip swallowing a nonexistent top. His T-shirt was two sizes too small and exposed a sliver of hairy belly.
Tentacles of terror clasped tight around my stomach as my eyes focused on one, two, three handguns visibly stuffed in their shorts. This situation had turned into a shitstorm sandwich fast, and we were dead smack in the middle of it.
“Why did you have to take myNauti Guy?” Hunter asked.
“Until you pay me back every penny, that is my boat,” Tom said. “And now the interest is doubled.”
“Unbelievable,” Hunter muttered. “Is Barry on theNauti Guy?”
Tom scratched his unshaven jaw. “It didn’t work out between us. He owed me money, too, you know.”
What the hell did he mean by that? Barry was either fish food or no longer associated with Tom. Probably the former. I bristled, feeling the blood drain from my face. But then the idea struck me. If Barry wasn’t here, did that mean that the bigger boat was empty, and that there were only three of them, and they were all here on the island? A small hope flared within at me. If our Plan B worked, theNauti Guywould easily be ours.
“Are you ready to give us a ride to Rarotonga?” Hunter said, straightening his broad shoulders. “At least let me take Sydney back. She is not part of it.”
“Mate, you sound like a broken record,” Tom said with an air of reproach, bending and grabbing a backpack from the boat I hadn’t noticed before. “I’ll take you and her back, but only once you show me what you found.”
“I told you. We haven’t found anything here. It’s all in the sea.”
“Let’s discuss our business like civilized people over a cup of coffee and some breakfast.” Tom lifted the bag, smiling. “I came bearing gifts.”
My senses prickled with awareness. The story in the Bible had three wise men who visited the infant Jesus, bringing gifts. Garry and Jack looked more like dull-witted savages than wise, but the number of the men standing before us matched. And yesterday, we found the Virgin Mary with baby Jesus. This was a sick joke. The heavy man jerked his head, signaling us to follow Tom.
ChapterThirty
In the kitchen, Tom pulled out a blue thermos and two trail mix granola bars out of the bag and placed them on the table. Then, he grabbed the aluminum mugs off the shelf as if this was his place and poured brown liquid into them. The smell of coffee quickly hit my nose. I didn’t want his coffee. He could have added drugs to it.
I pushed past him and marched to the running water. I cupped my hands, plunged them into cold water, and then splashed them onto my face. I wanted to dunk my head into the bucket and scream.
“Greeks say not to trust enemies who bring you presents.” Hunter accepted a mug from Tom.
“Why would Greeks say that? Have a seat, Sydney.” Tom motioned to the bench like a polite host, inviting me to sit down. Without drying my face with the towel, I sat beside Hunter, my arm brushing his.
“Heard of a Trojan?” Hunter retorted.
“Of course we have,” Jack said. “It’s a popular condom brand.”
Wow. That’s the sperm that won.
