Blooming in the Wild (17 page)

“Because you’re a Helman,” Bella said.

Camille swung her gaze toward Bella. Her skin crawled. This was a dangerous woman, as well as an unbalanced one. Was dressing Bella in such a sexual fashion merely to humiliate her, or did Camille plan to give her to the man as some kind of horrid gift?

“Yes, I am a Helman,” Camille agreed proudly, rising from the divan. She touched her heavy pendant, stroking the shape. An H, Bella realized. Not the Z she had first thought it. The clue had been right in front of her nose the entire time, and she hadn’t recognized it.

“And thanks to your dear family—so noble, so true to their Hawaii—I am the last of my line.” Camille’s voice sank to a sibilant hiss, and icy fear slithered through Bella’s middle.

“How do you figure that?” Joel asked, shifting. He shoved one hand in the pocket of his swim trunks. “The news reports said their deaths were accidents. Stefan fell into an unstable volcano vent, and Denas died in a diving accident. Near here,” he added, turning to look back at the shore yards away.

Only now it was farther away than it had been, Bella realized with horror. They were underway. The big engines had been idling when they boarded, and she had not realized until now that they were moving. Away from the shore, away from safety.

“You may be gullible enough to believe the news reports,” Camille said. “But I’m certainly not. No, I was there when Stefan reported to Denas that he was having a problem with some local landowner who’d had one of his men thrown in jail. ‘Ho’omalu’, he said. Then Stefan and five men died on the mountain, very near Ho’omalu land.”

She whirled and paced across the deck and back again like an actress enjoying the spotlight, Bella thought spitefully. But she was an actress who knew her lines all too well.

“Then we lost another man,” Camille continued. “In a mysterious explosion aboard his boat. And I was with Denas in Kailua when a tattooed local caused trouble with men we’d hired. He threw them off the public dock and then insulted my brother. His name? Ho’omalu. The same man who we were told had miraculously escaped injury when that boat went down.”

She drained her champagne flute and held it at her side. “Then Denas died, supposedly in a diving accident. With all his men? I didn’t believe it, any more than I believed that Stefan’s and his men’s deaths were accidental.” She turned and pointed her glass at Bella. “No, it was your family who killed my last two brothers. And now…”

“And now what?” Joel demanded contemptuously. “You’re going to kill all of us?”

Tanah gasped, and Cassie whimpered quietly. Joel ignored them, striding across the deck to Bella. He lifted his hands, pulling her hair forward over her breasts, and stood at her side. “You’ll never get away with it,” he said to Camille. “Too many people know where we are. And we were due back in Kailua Harbor about now. When we don’t show up, they’re going to come looking for us.”

Bella moved closer to him, feeling warmed and protected despite the continued peril of their situation.

“He’s right, Camille.” Camille’s friend, or compatriot, whoever he was, levered himself off his seat, and stood, shaking his head chidingly at Camille. “I won’t be a party to any kind of physical violence. You never said anything about that.”

“Then perhaps you should leave now,” Camille said, her nostrils flaring with displeasure.

“I thought we were going to have dinner?” he protested. “I just got here. I didn’t fly over from Honolulu just to head right back.”

She cocked her head at him. “Choose, Decker.”

He shook his head again. “I’m going, then. But don’t do anything stupid. You mess up this land deal, and it’ll be billions down the drain. Neither of us can afford that.”

He turned away, waving his hands in gesture that dismissed the situation and everything that happened here.

“Yeah, don’t forget to call the police when you get there,” Joel suggested sarcastically.

Tanah erupted off the divan, stepping into the big man’s path. “Take me with you,” she begged, her hands clasped in entreaty. “I want to go to Honolulu.”

“So do I,” protested Cassie. “And Matt.”

“Oh no, no.” Camille waved her empty glass. “That would ruin my party. Besides, you three are my insurance policy.” She winked at Joel, and Bella felt rather than heard his soundless growl of rage and disgust.

The beefy Decker pushed Tanah away with what looked like regret and strode away across the deck and out of sight down the steps leading to the back of the yacht. They heard a boat motor start up, and a moment later, a sleek motorboat sped away, headed west toward Kona.

To do: Faced with hostile persons in a foreign setting, the tour director will remain calm, while attempting to contact proper authorities
.

“So,” Joel said through his teeth. “You’re Camille Helman. Would that be the LA Helmans, who sell drugs, illegal weapons and people when they can get them? I believe I’ve heard about your family on the news.”

Camille perched again on the empty divan, waving her glass at the silent bartender for a refill. The trio sank onto their divan like deflated balloons, watching her.

“But you never saw any arrests,” Camille reminded Joel. “Merely annoying trials and speculations. No, the poor police and FBI just can’t seem to get enough evidence to pin anything on us. Besides, one must make a living. If there weren’t idiots lining up to buy what we sell, then we wouldn’t be so successful, would we?”

“LA’s pretty rich pickings,” Joel said. “What are you doing here? These are just islands, when all’s said and done. Just little dots on the map.”

She gave him a chiding look, swinging her slender foot, shod in a silver ballet flat. “Hawaii is not just ‘islands’. It’s the American paradise. And I”—she took a drink of champagne—“am going to own a very large chunk of it before I’m through.”

“Using your drugs,” Bella guessed. She looked up at Joel. “That’s why she’s here, to sell the drugs her brothers’ chemists dreamed up in their labs and get Hawaiians hooked on them. Kona Kula—Kona Diamonds, a sick play on the Kona Gold nickname for the marijuana grown here.”

Camille raised her glass in a mocking toast and drank again. “Good, good. You’re so clever. But not clever enough, because I’ve got you, haven’t I, Miss Ho’omalu.”

Bella shivered. This woman changed moods with such mercurial swiftness, perhaps she used drugs herself.

“Yes, you’ve got it all,” Camille murmured, almost to herself. “Your family is wealthy,
and
they’re respected, even revered here. Artists, landowners, philanthropists. They look after their island as if they were patrons.”

The polar opposite of her own family in every way but one, Bella realized with sickening clarity. “You hate me because even with all your money, you’ve never been looked up to, admired. People in LA must be afraid of your family. Hurting me won’t change your life,” Bella said, her voice shaking. “It will only make it worse. If you sink to your brothers’ level, you’ll destroy yourself.”

“Sink to their level?” Camille erupted from the divan, throwing her champagne aside. It landed in Cassie’s lap, and she gave a little shriek of fear.

Joel moved, his arm outstretched like a protective barrier before Bella, but Bella’s gaze was locked with Camille’s. She felt as if she had loosed a spitting serpent from its cage.

“My brothers would have chewed you to a bloody pulp and spit you out in the streets, you stupid little piece of Hawaiian twat,” Camille hissed. “They were my heroes. All my life I watched them and emulated them. My mother was a weak fool, addicted to her prescription drugs and her booze, but I watched, and I listened, and I learned. Oh yes, I fooled everyone. Chameleon—that was the nickname my brothers gave me, because I could always make people believe anything I wanted them to.

“
Camille is such a society girl, but so useless
,” she mimicked. “
Good thing they kept her out of the family business. A woman could never run an empire like that. She’ll have to marry someone who can take over, now that her brothers are gone.

“But no more hiding, no more Chameleon. I’ll show them all my true colors. Beginning here. I’ll sell my Kula to your natives. They’ll fight to get it, believing it will aid them in their traditional worship—the fools!

“When I’ve finished with the Ho’omalus and all your ‘people’, not to mention all those who’ve looked down at me and are trying to horn in on my family’s business…well, let’s just say they’ll change their tune.”

Tossing her head, she sat down again and snapped her fingers at the bartender. “Now, let’s have some Hawaiian music. And our little doll can dance a hula for us.”

Taken aback by the flood of bitter revelation, followed by this lightning change of mood, Bella gaped at her. Then she shook her head. “Sorry. I don’t know how to hula.”

As the rich strains of Hawaiian guitar and ukulele filled the air, Camille waved her hand. “Well, I’m not particular. Make something up.”

Bella looked her in the eye. “No.” No matter what, she would not dance like a puppet on a string for this woman.

“Oh.” Rather than looking angry or disappointed, Camille merely pursed her lips, as if biting back a smile. Then she beckoned, and Li came sauntering forward. Bella tensed—she’d forgotten the little snake.

“Then off you go,” Camille said like a parent to a naughty child. “If you’re not going to dance, you can go to your room.”

But the sly laughter in her eyes promised much worse. Bella realized that Camille had known she would refuse to dance. She had something else in mind—something that involved Li.

Li grasped Bella’s arm and yanked at her. Joel held on to her other arm, reaching for Li, and the nearest of Camille’s men, the big, bald one, strode forward from the boat rail.

“Joel!” Bella screamed as the man raised his weapon. Joel turned, and Baldy struck him across the side of his face with the butt of the weapon. Joel fell back against the wall of the cabin with a thump.

Li yanked Bella away from him. She dug her heels in, straining to see over her shoulder. “No, no. Joel!
”

Had the blow killed him? Was the thug even now beating him down with the weapon?

Li pulled her through the main cabin, down the passageway, and pushed her into the small stateroom.

When he let her go, she scrambled away from him, back across the bed, to crouch in the plush pillows at the head. She was trembling, her heart pounding.

He put his knee on the foot of the bed and leaned over toward her, his eyes alight with malicious glee.

“Get away from me,” she cried.

“Too bad you didn’t stay to dance. ’Cause now you’re mine,” he crooned, crawling onto the bed. “I’m gonna have fun with you, little hula girl.”

“No!” Bella screamed as he leapt across the bed at her. She kicked at him, but he grabbed her skirt and held on, holding her there as he levered himself up and over her, pinning her to the bed.

“I’m gonna fuck you,” he hissed, his breath hot on her face, his eyes bright and fierce. “And then maybe I’ll cut you. I like to cut pretty girls. The prettier, the better.”

“No,” she gritted, jabbing at his eyes with her outstretched fingers. “You’re not!”

He yelled as she dug her nails into his sockets, narrowly missing his eyeballs, and then yanked her head back with a handful of her hair, glaring at her from his reddened, swelling eyes. “No more Mr. Nice Guy,” he hissed. “For that, I’m gonna cut you first and then fuck you while you bleed.”

She struggled wildly, but he held her fast, and his knife appeared before her face, the blade shining as he held it before her eyes, waving it teasingly, his chest shaking with that silent laughter.

Bella strained away from him, watching the blade come closer. Then she heard a crash, and water splashed over her bare shoulder. She peered to the side. The bouquet had fallen, and the flowers were littered on the bed, their wet stems glistening.

“How about if I start right here?” Li asked, touching the knife blade to her throat. “Maybe you’ll bleed out while I’m fucking you. That would be fun.”

The blade pricked her skin, an ice-cold slice of pain, and Bella screamed again, thrashing. She stretched out her hand, reaching, reaching, and just as he sliced deeper, one of the long stems slipped across the coverlet and into her hand.

Her fingers closed around it, and with a growl, Bella swung her arm and stabbed, aiming for her captor’s throat. The wire imbedded in the stem sank deep into his flesh.

He froze, his eyes going wide, and then reared back, choking and clawing at the bird-of-paradise stem protruding from his throat.

Bella shoved him, and he fell off her, gasping hoarsely, his eyes wild, the whites rolling. Blood spouted over the pristine whiteness of the coverlet.

She scrambled off the bed, stopping only to grab his knife. Shaking like a leaf, she stared down at him as he struggled to pull the wire free with shaking hands.

“That’ll teach you to cut women, you bastard,” she spat.

Behind her, the door slammed open, and she whirled, holding the knife out before her. Her heart leapt with joy. “Joel!”

Her hero filled the doorway, one of his eyes swollen half shut, a huge bruise purpling across his temple and cheekbone. He looked ready to kill someone—for her?

He looked at Li shaking on the bed, at the knife in her hand, and his good eye narrowed.

“You’re bleeding!” His deep voice was a growl of rage.

She shook her head, so glad to see him, tears filled her eyes. “J-just a scratch.”

He glanced at Li again, who had yanked the wire free but was still choking on his own blood. “I’m not even gonna ask. Come on!”

Joel grabbed her hand in his, big and warm and strong, and she ran after him, out of the room and down the passageway away from the main cabin. She flinched as she heard Camille shriek something out on the main deck, and a man yelled in response.

Joel stopped abruptly at the end of the passageway, and Bella jerked her mind back to their surroundings. “Do you know where this goes?” she asked breathlessly.

“It’s a boat,” he replied, peering out of a narrow doorway to the left. “It all leads to water.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

“Here.” He reached back, his hand open. “Give me the knife.”

“Is there someone out there?” She complied and looked fearfully back the way they’d come. How would they ever escape all those armed thugs? How had Joel even gotten this far?

“No, but there’s rope. Always handy.” Was he joking? She scowled at his broad back.

A large shape appeared in the open doorway to the main cabin—one of Camille’s thugs. He had his back to the passageway, but he was turning their way, semiauto at the ready.

“Go!” she squeaked, shoving at Joel.

He moved, yanking her out onto a narrow deck covered by the superstructure. Bella landed, belly against the railing. She looked down and let out a small whimper of dismay. The water was a long way down. She turned to Joel, but he was busy pulling the hatch shut. “Good,” he muttered. “This thing locks on the outside. Don’t need the rope to tie it shut.”

“Of course it locks on the outside,” she snapped. “Other people worry about breakins. These creeps don’t want anyone to break out.”

He grinned crookedly at her. “You really think they use a luxury yacht to hold prisoners?”

“Well, they are now.”

He shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Where are Cassie and Tanah and Matt?” she asked, peering along the side of the yacht. “We can’t leave without them.”

“We’re not. They’ll meet us.”

“Meet us where?”

“In the damn water! Now come here. Time to jump.”

She looked at him and then at the water below. “I’m not jumping. You said there was rope.”

He scowled at her, but he was already pulling Li’s knife from the pocket of his shorts. He clicked it open. “It’s not that far down. Jumping is quicker.”

“Just get the rope.”

He cut a long section of the rope and then tied it to the railing, yanking the knot. He shook his head at it but turned back to Bella. She started to swing her leg over the railing and stopped, the grass skirt tangling around her legs.

She pulled at the tie, but Joel pushed her hand aside, slipped the knife under the string that held up the skirt and cut it. Free of the clinging strands, Bella let him help her over the railing.

“Don’t look down,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her mouth. “Look at me, and think about how I’m gonna make love to you when we get to a nice, quiet bed.”

“Okay,” she agreed breathlessly. He handed her the rope, his eyes on the knot. He seemed to be enjoying himself, she thought resentfully.

“Let the rope slide through your hands,” he instructed. “And face the boat so you can push off with your feet. And I’ll be right beside you.”

She nodded and stepped off. She slid a little way, grabbed the rope and swung toward the hull of the yacht, banging her shoulder painfully on the hot metal. Gritting her teeth, she stretched out her leg and pushed off. She forced herself to unclench her hands from the rope, ready to slide again, but suddenly she was falling through the bright air. She just had time to close her eyes, and the water hit her in a hard swoosh, tearing at her hair, filling her nose and mouth with salty brine. The ocean swallowed her, sucking her down.

She felt the concussion of a splash beside her, and a warm hand grasped hers and tugged. Bella kicked hard, rising with Joel up into the warm sunlight. The crown was gone, a small cream shape twirling in the water nearby, but the lei was plastered across her face, along with her hair. She choked, coughing salt water, and trying to breathe through the burning in her sinuses and throat. Ack, that was the third time on this trip she’d inhaled salt water. She was never swimming in the ocean again.

Joel yanked her under the curve of the hull, treading water beside her as she caught her breath. She glared at him through her hair, swiping it from her face. He looked fine.

“Sorry,” he said. “Rope slipped. Come on, we have to move.”

“Are we going to swim all that way?” she asked, gazing in horror at the broad expanse of rolling sea between them and the island. From down here, the waves were a lot bigger.

Joel shook his head, already stroking away from her. “They’d catch us in a minute. We need transportation.”

He turned and swam toward the rear of the boat, and Bella followed, trying not to think of the depths underneath her and all the creatures lurking there. Those on the yacht were much worse, she reminded herself. “How are we going to get transportation?” she panted.

“Personal watercraft— Jet Ski. There are three on the back of the yacht.”

“They’re not—just going—to let us—take them,” she gasped, stroking hard to keep up with him.