Chapter 32
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RAYDEN (27YRS)
“So, what now?” I asked Zayne, bored out of my freaking mind and impatient to get moving.
“Patience, boy,” he replied without taking his eyes off the binoculars he was currently looking through.
We sat in a speed boat, bobbing on rippling water a couple hundred meters from what looked like a Fort Knox set up on an island. Only, the building resembled an old castle and looked deserted.
“Are you sure they’re keeping her here? This looks like a fucking prison with no way in or out. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had sharks protecting the damn place,” I grumbled, staring at the high walls I’d probably scrape my cock on, on my way up or down.
Zayne lowered the scope and glanced at me. “Did anyone ever tell you, you’re impatient as fuck?” he growled.
I grinned then shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Are you this impatient when you’re fucking too?” he muttered, lifting the scope again.
“Haven’t had any complaints but you’re welcome to watch the next time I do,” I scoffed.
He shook his head without looking at me then lifted his eyes to the sky when the whirr of a chopper broke the quiet. We watched it approach from our left, hover over the rooftop then descended, before disappearing behind a wall.
“Time to go,” Zayne shoved the binoculars into a duffle and pulled off his shirt.
My brow creased. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He glanced at me while removing his jeans, his smirk curling the corners of his mouth. “Going for a swim. You coming?”
“What? Like now?” I held out my hands in a questioning gesture. “Are you fucking insane? There’s probably a hundred sharks in there.” I balked and the fucker laughed.
“No sharks. Now get a move on if you want to see your girlfriend.”
“Why can’t we take the boat closer.”
“Jesus, you’re a whiny fuck.” Hands on his hips, he puffed out his cheeks. “I get that you’re fucking nervous as shit—”
“I’m not,” I snapped.
“Yeah, well, I’m not Trent so quit trying to pretend you’re not.” At my glare, he added. “Once that chopper leaves, she’s gone, Rayden.”
I frowned. “How do you know?”
“Again, with the questions,” he muttered.
“You haven’t exactly been forthcoming with the information.” I scowled, irritation lacing my words.
He stopped rolling up the pants he’d undone, stared at me then blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, all you need to know is where to go and that’s what I’m doing, taking you there. Once inside you’re safe. And if you follow the precise instructions, I gave you, you’ll walk out alive, with your girlfriend. Okay?”
I took a moment to debate my bravery then whipped off my t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. When I handed it to him, he stuffed our clothes into the waterproof duffel, zipped it and slung it over his back. His confident manner told me he’d probably done this before.
“We’re going to swim into that cove.” He pointed to a black hole in the wall I hadn’t notice before. “Ready?”
