Alpha Heat (3 page)

Then, I heard the soft rumbling from a different engine, and a spotlight appeared above my head. The arguing stopped.

Someone hissed, “No mames!” I understood that. Shut up.

Someone else hissed back, “Chingar, Ramon.”

“Hey, are you all OK over there?”

The new voice spoke English, ringing out above the sound of the storm and the engines.

The one ordering silence must have been Ramon. He had a faint lisp that made it easy to recognize his speech after I heard his name.

He said something fast to the others. I heard, “bonito barco.” Nice boat.

“Si,” they said. Ramon shouted, “Our engine, she’s broken. Please help us.”

Raman whispered from the side of his mouth. All I heard was, “Huber.”

On Ramon’s order, a man walked to my cage. He flashed a small light and showed me he had a knife. My leg muscles tensed beneath my knees and my head pressed against the cage’s plastic top.

Huber slashed his blade at me and I closed my eyes tightly.

I heard something ripping and opened one eye to see that he had cut the rope holding the cage shut. The door banged open and he motioned for me to come toward him.

Pin pricks shot through my legs as I lurched forward.

He grabbed my arm, and held the steel to my throat. “Silencio!” He whispered as he covered my mouth with his left hand.

I nodded my head.

The light came closer. “Should we call you a tow?”

“We got a girl here. She’s sick, she needs help.” Huber pushed me forward into the dim light from the deckhouse.

“Stay away…they are —”

I managed to get those words out before Ramon punched my gut. The other boat’s spotlight shone on me as I doubled over. Huber pulled a pistol out of his shorts and aimed it at my head.

“Come here nice and slow or we cap her,” he yelled.

“I think we’ll just call the police.”

“Alfredo,” Ramon yelled.

Another bright light came on, this time from Ramon’s boat. A man who I assumed was Alfredo stepped from behind the deckhouse with a wicked looking rifle in his hands, like the ones you see terrorists waving on T.V.

“I will shoot you and take your boat,” Alfredo yelled.

“Hang on,” the voice from the boat said. “Let’s talk about this like civilized men.”

Glaring at him from my knees, I saw Ramon nod. “Yes, come here and we’ll talk,” he said, speaking through his teeth.

“Like civilized men.”

My stomach hurt, my insides were solid knots. I gasped and I shivered. Fear warred with anger inside me. I looked at Ramon, his face lit by the other boat’s lights.

I tried to yell another warning, but all I could make was a dry, hacking sound.

Ramon looked at me with narrowed eyes and shook his head back and forth. His cheeks had pock marks. He showed me the gun’s barrel and pointed it at my head.

I couldn’t catch enough breath to scream.

The boat coming toward us was bright blue on the bottom with a white top.
Wind Walker
was printed in hand-tall letters on the front.

Ramon whistled like a construction worker at an attractive woman.

He said something to Huber.

I only understood one word, “restate.” Ransom.

eight

If the Norse god Thor had a living equal, the man who stepped into view next would be him. Blonde hair, bold cheekbones and sculpted arms. Facing three guns held by characters clearly intent on no good, he smiled.

Bright white teeth shone with iridescent highlights.

Behind him, the spotlight on the
Wind Walker
snapped off, leaving him lit by Alfredo’s light, like an actor on stage all alone.

He held his hands up. “Guys, I’m Karl Norman.”

Defying possibility, he smiled even wider. Even brighter.

“Just give us the girl and we’ll call you a tow. No hard feelings.” He waved his hands at the guns as if waving off a fly. “I won’t say anything about those.”

Most of the time, late afternoon Gulf Coast storms don’t last long. The wind that had been strong as soup was already weakening and the moon shone through the clouds. As the air calmed, I smelled dead fish and the sweat from the men around me.

I peeked back at Alfredo and saw him wave his rifle. “You mean this little thing?” He pointed the gun at Karl. “You won’t say anything, pollo, because you’re scared by my friend here.”

There was a thud, and as if by magic, a black square appeared between the shadows where Alfredo’s eyes were. I recognized the handle of a dive knife, like the ones Pablo sold in his store.

After selling board, he loved to tell the customer that there were sharks off the beach and he wouldn’t go on the Gulf without a good knife strapped to his calf.

Now, a good knife to have, like the type Pablo sold, jutted from Alfredo’s head. His gun went off with a boom-boom-boom and holes appeared on the Wind Walker’s sky blue side. I flattened myself against the deck, remembering a war movie I saw with a pock-faced teenager once. The film was set in some obscure African city, and there were shots firing all around. They sounded like Alfredo’s gun.

All I could think about was a scene where a soldier dove to the ground and covered his head while bullets flew above him. I did that, my face meeting the slimy wood. If I could have dug into the deck with my fingernails, I would have.

The shots stopped and there was a splash. I heard Ramon yelling and then a sharper crack from above my head, I guess from his gun going off. I tried to get lower and flatter, tightening my shoulders. I expected to feel a bullet between them at any second.

My chest hurt with each ragged pant.

I heard thuds and the sound flesh makes slapping flesh. I rolled over just as Ramon fell backwards with Karl on flailing away on top.

Huber yelled and fired his pistol above Karl's head. “Stop eet! Stop eet!” Another blond hero leapt from the Wind Walker carrying an aluminum pole with a hook on the end.

“Boat hook,” I whispered.

Grace you awesome nautical trivia goddess, get the fuck moving.

Like a crab, I tried to walk backwards with my elbows and knees, keeping my eyes on Huber and his waving gun and the other on what seemed to be a pile of churning arms and legs where Karl and Ramon rolled around.

The pole connected and bent around Huber’s head. Then the other hero reversed his grip and knocked Huber’s black pistol flying. I heard a splash. I looked at the man-pile Karl and Ramon were making and then Karl's head rose above the fray, and his massive fist fell again and again.

nine

“Can I help you stand, miss?”

I looked up at the world’s second most beautiful man gazing down at me. The spotlight sparkled off the mist in the air, giving the whole scene a fuzzy shine like an old movie. My crazed brain replayed a scene of Cary Grant whistling
Singing in the Rain
. I opened my mouth, but I could not speak.

Water ran between my lips from the fading storm and I swallowed, trying to sooth my aching throat.

“Get back, Jack, I saw her first.”

I looked at Karl Norman. Yep, he’s still the world’s first most beautiful man.

He reached for me and lifted me like I weighed nothing. As if I hadn’t drained half a wine-bottle and consumed half a pound of free chocolates for lunch. As if my bikini was a size two and not a size fifteen.

Jack looked angry. Oh my god, are these two really going to fight over
me
? “Hey,” I yelled and held out my hands so they could see my wrists were bound with zip ties. “A little help?”

Karl glared at his brother again. “You see?”

“She was being kidnapped.”

“Of course she was.” He set my feet under me, and produced a blade like the one that had split Alfredo’s face. The metal shone brightly in the moonlight, more specular than normal steel. “I can fix her problem, because I didn’t lose my knife in the ocean.”

“You’re a real asshole.” Jack laughed. “OK, she’s all yours, brother.”

He leapt back onto the
Wind Walker
. “Besides, while you play white knight, I have to crank up the extra pumps before our ride home sinks.”

I was miffed he’d given up, having these two fighting over me felt pretty nice after the night I’d had. I looked at Karl and showed him my wrists, wiggling them.

With his golden hair, I’d expected his eyes to be blue, instead they were a bright coal color like a late fall Moon.

What’s he waiting for?

“Before I untie a girl, I like to know her name.”

“Really? You want to do this now?”

“There’s no time like the present, Miss…?”

Men! “Grace. Grace Dawson.”

“Well Miss Dawson, I just need two more things before I can wield my blade.”

I agreed with Jack. This handsome man was an ass. Not only did he leave me standing there with my wrists bound, but he spewed annoying literary references while doing it.

I turned up my lip. “Just please cut me loose now.”

“You shouldn’t do that to your lips, Grace. They’re made for kissing, not for sneering like some lightweight pop-star.”

He put the blade on the band between my wrists. “Just one more thing then. Your number.”

“Jesus!”

He raised his eyebrows. His wet hair whipped around in the breeze. The waves rolled the boats and he held me, keeping me from falling. We moved like we were dancing to some crazy music played by wind and water. His lips twitched at the edges and somehow his mood grabbed me and my lips twitched as well.

“Three one two five five zero four.”

“Here’s your freedom, babe!” He sliced the plastic off.

Finally. I rubbed my wrists.

I laughed at the absurd scene. Just hours before my main problem had the belly fat above my bikini bottom, and now here I was having been saved from kidnappers.

Several lights shone from the Wind Walker and I noticed blood on Karl's lips. “You’re hurt.” I reached up to his sharp cheekbones and touched his face where it was cut. He caught my hand. “I’ll let you tend my wounds if you answer my final question.”

“What?” I snapped, pulling my sore wrists back. He should tend to my wounds, I’m the one who was tied in a box for the past few hours.

“Am I right to call you Miss Dawson?”

“I’m not married, if that’s what you’re getting at.” The deck swayed beneath me and I became lightheaded. The wine, the cramps from the cage, the burning from my wrists and the after effects of whatever the kidnappers had drugged me with all took their toll. I fell back against him and he wrapped me in his arms. His very warm arms. “Look. You have my number. You can call me if you want to. Maybe I’ll even answer. But, if I don’t crawl under a blanket soon, I’m going to die right here and that’ll be that.”

“Hah. You’ve got spirit. Don’t worry, you’re not going to expire tonight.”

“I do have a blanket and if my brother can keep his cheap plastic boat floating long enough to make port, I’ll have you home soon.”

“I heard that.” Jack's voice. “Hey, I called the Coasties for our friends. If you two are done screwing around over there, we should go.” He slapped
Wind Walker’s
side. “The pumps are working, but things fall apart when pushed. We need to get back home and patch this baby up.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Take me home.”

Home, was there ever a more beloved word? Not now, other than maybe bed. My bed, with the natural latex mattress that was like laying on a cloud, and my Egyptian cotton sheets, my one luxury I couldn’t afford. Where
The Winds of Winter
sat half read, holding more secrets for me to discover more about the dragon queen and the sexy dwarf.

They were waiting for me in my apartment, and my coffee machine would be there perking away in the morning. I’d see Leslie and she’d give me heck about coming back so late.

“Home sounds good to me.” Karl said.

“May I lie down now?”

I do remember asking this before I fell.

ten

I was being lifted into an ambulance. The world looked fuzzy, unfocused. I saw sailboats’ masts make black lines in front of the moon.

We must be at the City Marina.

Then, I heard a rumble like thunder from a nearby lightning strike. The roar shook me where I lay and I stared past the green clad rescue worker fussing about my arm to see Karl ride up on a huge black motorcycle.

I blinked and my vision cleared as tears began to flow.

Our gaze met for a moment, and he nodded. Then, he whirled his bike around, spinning the tire on the wet pavement and leaving a wet-rubber stench behind. As he sped away, I saw the design on the back of his jacket, a hammer above the words,
Sons of Thunder.

The handsome guy who rescued me is a rider in a motorcycle gang.