Tsunami Blue (23 page)

Both men looked down at me like so much garbage.

Indigo, still wearing his stupid hat, spit on me and laughed. I thought I saw Gabriel flinch. No. I was wrong. He was smiling.

I. Would. Not. Cry.

“She looks like shit, Gabriel. All black and blue and purple. Please tell me this is my work.”

Gabriel thumped Indigo on the back. “It is.”

Indigo probed at me with his boot. “Did you nail her? Break her in for me? Tell me our little wave rat is a good ride.”

I. Would. Not. Cry.

“Naw.” Gabriel looked at me like I was dirt under his boot. “She’s too damn scrawny for me. Look at her, she’s a fucking toothpick. What fun is that?”

Indigo’s eyes narrowed. “Do you not want to share her? Is that it? Because she may be a little shit, but she’s gorgeous.” He reached down and captured my chin. “Just look at those eyes.”

“Suit yourself. I’m done with her.”

I do not share
. How many times had I heard that? How many? Was everything about this man a lie?
Not possible
, my heart said.
Not even.

“You’re a good man, Gabriel, one of my favorites. I should be pissed at you for leaving the cage without even a proper goodbye. But since you saved my little weathervane here along with your own sorry ass, I can forgive the slight. I just wish I’d been there sooner to help you out with that bastard Trace. But I heard in the wind that you took care of him just fine.” He laughed a wicked, mean laugh. “And that idiot thought he was having me for dinner.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Indigo had given Gabriel “last rights” with me. It was another twisted and sick Runner ritual: giving the captor one romp with his captive before she was handed over to the next in line.

I sat cross-legged on the V-berth. My hands were bound and I stared up through the hatch where the twins had first appeared. If I closed my eyes, I could see their hazel almond-shaped eyes, their shaggy heads, their wide-eyed look of innocence. It was that look, fixed forever in my mind, that haunted me the most. Gabriel cared about the kids—hell, he loved the kids. And he loved me. If I died this night at Runner hands, that was just what I would choose to believe. That was what I had to believe to keep on breathing.

The hatch swung open, and Gabriel stepped down into the cabin. He brought the smell of fresh sea air that mingled with the scent that was uniquely Gabriel Black. It was like an embrace from an old friend. The wind blew in behind him, sending his duster flapping around his leather boots. Midnight hair whipped around his shoulders, and his scowl was back. He looked like he had the morning after I found him, when I had held a knife to his throat. He looked dangerous and dark and threatening all over again. But I wasn’t afraid. I couldn’t be afraid of him. I loved him.

He slammed the hatch closed and threw the bolt. He came to me and swept me off the berth and into his arms. He carried me into the main cabin, away from prying eyes, and set me down. He pinned me against the teak-wood wall and kissed me. It was hard and bruising and desperate. He kissed me like he never wanted to stop. He kissed me like I was his and his alone. He kissed me like he was saying good-bye. Tears spilled down my cheeks at the thought. And finally, he kissed me like he loved me.

He broke from the kiss and untied my hands. He kissed my wrists where red, angry welts started to rise. Cupping my face in his hands, he looked into my eyes. I saw worry and fear reflected in his gaze, but I saw something else too: a raw, fierce determination.

“I will be back for you. You know this, right?”

I hesitated.

He put his hands on my shoulders and gently shook me.

“Right?” he said again.

I nodded, unable to find my voice.

“You will survive. Right?”

I nodded again.

“Damn it, Blue, say it. I need to hear you say it.”

“I will.”

“Will what?”

“Survive.”

“Until?”

“Until you come for me.” I couldn’t believe my own voice. I sounded scared, weak, defeated. And Gabriel could hear it too. But he had it wrong. I wasn’t afraid for me. I was afraid for him. How was he going to get past the entire Runner nation and live? How?

He put his forehead to mine and whispered, “Where’s my Tsunami Blue? The one who swears and kicks and spins knives?”

“And throws a mean rock,” I added. That got me a smile.

“Where is the woman who will fight for Max and Nick and Alec and—”

“Aubrey,” I finished the sentence for him. I reached up and looped my arms around his neck. “She’s right here, tough guy. Come back for me. Or I’ll come lookin’ for you.” I punched him in the arm. And for the first time ever, I punched him like a girl. I couldn’t bear to put another mark on his already bruised body.

A fist pounded at the hatch and my heartbeat kicked into overdrive.

“Time’s up, lover boy. We’re all getting under way. We got a fuckin’ wave to outrun.”

Gabriel pulled away. He reached out and mussed my hair, then tore my thermal and retied my hands.

And before he delivered me to the lions, he said the only words I needed to hear: “I love you.”

I climbed onto Indigo’s boat and was immediately thrown on the deck face-first. I pushed up, frantically brushing my hair from my eyes so I could watch the tall silhouette of Gabriel Black fade as we were pulled away from his boat by the currents.

He was watching me.

At that moment I knew I might never see him again.

It hurt like hell.

Good-bye
, the sea said, lapping against the hull.
Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye.

So there was my answer. The sea knew. This was good-bye.

There would be nothing left for me in this wet, fucked-up world without Gabriel and his little band of kids in it. And Max. Nothing. So I did what anyone in my position would do: I set out to make a plan. I’d forgo the pie charts and spreadsheets and five-year goals. I figured I had a five-minute, three-step goal. One, stay alive, at least for a while. Two, get the Runners to hang a bit longer. And three, wait for Gabriel to save me. Or else I’d save him. Again.
Oops.
That was four.

But deep down in my gut, I knew Gabriel could not save me. If he truly could stop waves, there would be no time to come back for me. I could only pray that he would save himself. Save himself for the little family who depended on him so. Save himself for Max.

And I thought I knew how to buy him time to make it happen.

Runners were predictable, greedy bastards. That was why they were still here. Still sacking and hoarding and looting. They couldn’t bear to leave anything behind. Greed was what drove them. Greed would kill them. Greed would take them straight to hell. The only problem with my plan was that I might have to go to hell with them.

I thought of the blood I’d spilled. And maybe, just maybe I deserved the same fate too. But not Gabriel. Not the kids. Not Max.

It was time to put my plan in action. And it had to start with His Blueness, Indigo.

I struggled to my feet, gaining balance against the rail. I tried to smooth my long and knotted hair with my tied hands. And when that didn’t work, I went for the obvious: I tore my thermal down farther, revealing cleavage. I turned to find Indigo.

“So you think you’re a pretty smart bitch, don’t you, Tsunami Blue?”

A tall, thin Runner with a 666 tattooed on his forehead sneered at me. He drew his knife. I wanted to knee him in the balls, stomp on his face, and kick him in the ribs. I could do it in under ten seconds. But I had a new four-step plan. And number one was staying alive. So those…what should I call them? Shenanigans seemed like a good Irish word. Those shenanigans of the old days had to stop.
Damn it anyway.

He pushed his blade closer to my eye.

“Look at them pretty, pretty baby blues,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind having one for a little souvenir.” The man grinned.

I wasn’t worried about losing an eye. I’d use the knee-drop-and-stomp thing first. But damn it—another Runner who didn’t use a toothbrush. That in itself was torture.

“Please do not ruin my four-step plan.” I sighed, shaking my head. He only brought the knife closer and shoved me to my knees.
Well, shit.
There went my advantage.

The man went to his knees right in front of me. His blade dropped from his fingers and he toppled over. On me. Blood splattered everywhere: in my hair, in my eyes, on my clothes.

Indigo appeared over us with a wicked-looking blade that dripped blood. He had just slit the man’s throat.

“No one,” he screamed, “and I mean no one, goes near her. Understood?”

He stepped over the body. A man ran to heave it overboard, and got a blade to the throat instead.

“The body stays. No need to waste perfectly good meat for the whites,” said Indigo.

He reached down and cut the rope from my wrists and offered me a hand up. I didn’t take it, but chose instead to stand up on my own.

“You’re a stubborn one, that’s for sure. I can’t wait to get you trained my way. It will be fun.” He reached over and wiped his bloody blade on my pants.

I slowly breathed in the midnight air, so crisp and clean. It calmed my pounding heart and soothed my frayed and raw nerves. I had to hold it together just a while longer. The wave would be on time tonight. The sea, knowing that I would be joining it soon, had promised.

I rolled my shoulders and stood straighter. I looked Indigo in the eyes and remembered all the reasons I wanted to kill him. And before this night was through, I would. With that thought in mind, I felt surprisingly better.

“So, sometimes”—I wiped the blood from my lips—“I get the timing off.” I heard the sea laugh.

Indigo looked at my breasts, reaching out to grab and squeeze. “My timing’s never off,” he said.

“Sorry.” I swatted his hand away in a teasing gesture that looked a lot like flirting. He seemed to enjoy it, blood dripping from me and all. I wanted to throw up. All over his clown pants. It was all I could do not to.

I proceeded to convince him that I had it all wrong. I talked fast while pressing up against him using what cleavage I had to distract. I even batted my baby blues.  

 
Oh, sure
, I had said,
the wave is coming, of course. Am I ever wrong? But not for hours. You have plenty of time to keep looting and hoarding. Why would I lie? Do you think I have a death wish? And why not throw in a little absinthe drinking too.
Sure, I’d join him. My stomach had rolled at the thought. But if it hadn’t been for the sea, I would not have been able to pull it off. The sea, loving a game, calmed, and sent gentle soothing laps to brush the hull. The rhythm was hypnotic, cryptic. And only I could read the message hidden there.
I’m coming. I’m coming. I’m coming.

But it worked. In the end, it was that greed thing, after all. Human nature. At the very least, Runner nature. They turned the boat around for one last run at a supply station.

Phase one of my plan was a success. I had survived long enough to lie and manipulate and bend the truth my way. I played their wicked game and I was winning. Hell—I would win.

Instead of sailing away from the wave, we were right in its path. And all of us would die. Nothing like taking someone with you.

I heard it before anyone else.

The water had started to recede.

Indigo heard it second. “What the—” Indigo sounded hysterical. “The bitch lied. The fucking bitch lied.”

He turned and hit me. Hard. I went down, landing on the teak deck next to the lifeless eyes of a dead man. The 666 that had been inked into his forehead glared at me. I turned away from him.

Down on the deck, with my cheek near the hull, I heard the sea whispering,
I’m here, Blue. I’m here.

The chaos on board started. Running. Screams. Crying.

Indigo came back my way and landed a kick in my ribs. Damn, but I was tired of being a human punching bag.

“Get up. Save us, you stupid bitch.”

“I can’t.”

Indigo dropped to his knees and lifted my head by grabbing my hair. “I said, save us.”

I closed my eyes and faked a blackout. I mean, why not? I was done talking to this man. Done.

“I don’t want to die,” Indigo screamed.

Get over it and die like a man.

“Shit, the water. Where’s it going?” a Runner screamed.

Out, Einstein.

“Is that a wave?” asked another.

A big-ass one.

“We’re going to die.”

Yep, pretty much
. That was the beauty of a plan: When it worked, it really worked. I had led them into the wave and now, if I were going to die, I would take all these Runner scum with me. Straight to hell.

I thought of Gabriel. The man who thought he could stop waves. I prayed that he could. I mean, why not? I could talk to the ocean. Predict waves. Why couldn’t he be the yin to my yang?
Wait. What?
Did that ever sound corny. Man, impending death sure messed with your head.

Our boat, caught by the force of the receding waters, spun and spun. I tried to get up and grabbed for the railings.The shark pen was just yards in front of us. The receding water tore and ripped like it had arms, destroying the sea cage.

In an instant the sharks, the whites, were free.

There were so many of them.

Our boat, jolted by confused tides and swells, sent the body on deck flying into the water. A shark leapt in midair, its eyes rolling back into its head as its jaws unhinged. The creature caught the body and half the man was gone before my eyes.

I rolled back on the deck, sick. What a sight to take to the watery grave with you.
Shit. Isn’t anything easy?

I heard the sea whispering,
Coming, coming
.

“You’re already here,” I said. “And you’re off to a hell of a start, I’ve got to say.”

Gabriel
, the sea whispered.
Gabriel, Gabriel, Gabriel.

“What about Gabriel?” I said. My heartbeat raced as I waited for an answer.

Gabriel. Here
, the sea whispered. And then it laughed.

No. No!
He could not be here. He needed to be at the Needle. He needed to stop this wave and get the hell out of here and live. He could not be caught up in this. If he tried to save me and tangle with the Runners, the wave would finish the job and take him too. I needed him to live. To take care of the kids and Max and— No. Just no. I did not want him to die. I wanted—no, I needed him to live. I wanted to die knowing that the best, most beautiful thing that ever happened to me would live on. Live on to watch three kids grow into wonderful adults. Live on to run with Max on the beach. Live on to drink Christmas Blend. I needed him to live.

I reached for the railing to hoist myself up. And that was when I saw it.

Tsunami.

Still a good distance away, the wave rose and rose and rose. Moonlight, streaming through dark clouds, highlighted the curl and color, the foam and mist.

It was beautiful. It was terrifying. It was the end.

And one thing was perfectly clear: Anything in its way would not, could not survive.

I focused. Gabriel and his sleek black sailboat were right in its path.

I couldn’t help it: I started to cry. Not for me, but for him. For my beautiful dark angel I had found on my beach on a moonlit night. I wanted him to live. He had to. He just had to.