“My endgame is you dead and Mel with me, the way it should be. And if I can’t have her, no one can.”
“Tommy,” Mel said, her voice remarkably steady. “You don’t have to do this. Let me go, and they’ll make sure you get help.”
“Help?” Tommy’s laugh turned bitter. “I don’t need help. I need you to stop fighting what’s meant to be.”
“This isn’t meant to be,” she said gently. “This isn’t love, Tommy. Love doesn’t hurt people. Love doesn’t take their choices away.”
“Shut up!” He tightened his grip on her, his knuckles whitening around the gun. “Just shut up and let me think.”
I watched his eyes, recognizing the frantic calculation of a cornered animal. Outside, I knew Logan would be placing the small explosive charge on the hull—just enough to penetrate and cause the boat to take on water. Not enough to blow it up, but sufficient to create an opportunity for me to get Mel.
“Look, Tommy,” I said, “all I want is Mel. You let her go, and we’ll leave. You can take the boat, go wherever you want. We won’t follow.”
It was a lie, of course. The moment Mel was safe, I’d ensure Tommy Fitzsimmons never saw daylight outside a prison cell again. But he didn’t need to know that.
“You think I’m stupid?” he spat. “You think I don’t know how this works? The minute she walks out that door, you’ll put a bullet in my head.”
“That’s not how we operate,” I said, which was almost true, although I would take Tommy out without hesitation to save Mel’s life. “We just want to bring Mel home safely.”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “Home to what? Her sister who treats her like a servant? The tour she hates? The life she was desperate to escape?”
His words cut close to the truth, which made them dangerous.
“Tommy,” Mel said, “if you care about me at all, you’ll let me go.”
“I care about you more than anyone ever has!” His voice cracked with emotion.
The possessive delusion in his voice made my skin crawl. But I needed to keep him talking, to buy Logan time.
“You’re right about one thing,” I said, drawing Tommy’s attention back to me. “Mel deserves better than what she’s had. She deserves to make her own choices.”
“That’s what I’m giving her!” Tommy insisted. “Freedom from everything weighing her down.”
“At gunpoint?” I raised an eyebrow. “That’s not freedom, Tommy. That’s just another cage.”
It was almost time. I had to be ready.
His face contorted again, rage battling with his twisted sense of righteousness. “You don’t understand. You couldn’t possibly?—”
The explosion cut him off mid-sentence.
The charge detonated with a muffled boom, the concussion rippling through the boat’s structure. All three of us were thrown forward as the bow dipped suddenly, water already beginning to rush in through the newly created hole in the hull.
I had anticipated it, bracing myself to maintain balance. Tommy hadn’t. He stumbled, his grip on Mel loosening just enough for her to twist away. She lunged toward me just as Tommy regained his footing.
“Mel, get topside!” I shouted, positioning myself between her and Tommy. “Now!”
“Ethan—”
“Go!” I ordered. “Ty’s waiting in the raft. Logan will help you.”
She hesitated, then scrambled toward the stairs, grabbing on to furniture for support as the boat’s angle increased. Water was already rushing into the cabin, past our ankles.
Tommy raised his gun, aiming at Mel’s retreating form. I tackled him before he could fire, sending us both crashing to the tilting floor. The gun discharged, the bullet punching into the ceiling.
“You’re not taking her from me,” Tommy growled, struggling beneath me.
I drove my fist into his jaw, trying to stun him long enough to disarm him. But Tommy was stronger than he looked, fueled by obsession and rage. He bucked upward, dislodging me, then smashed the butt of his gun against my temple.