Page 119 of Duty Unbound

Stars exploded across my vision. I rolled away, narrowly avoiding a second blow. The cabin was filling with water now, already calf-deep and rising fast.

Tommy staggered to his feet, aiming the gun again. I kicked upward, connecting with his wrist. The gun fired again, pain blossoming in my left shoulder as the bullet grazed me.

Son of a bitch.

“You’ll die here,” Tommy said, his face twisted with hate. “And Mel will never be yours.”

Ignoring the pain, I lunged for his knees, taking him down into the rising water. We grappled in the darkness, the cabin lights flickering and then dying as the electrical system shorted out. The water was at our waists now, the boat leaning heavily to one side.

“Stop fighting, asshole,” I gasped as we surfaced. “We need to get out of this cabin, or we’ll both drown.”

“Good,” Tommy snarled, shoving me back underwater. “If I can’t have her, neither can you.”

I fought against his grip, my lungs burning for air. The salt water stung the wound in my shoulder, but the pain kept me focused. I twisted, breaking his hold, and drove my knee into his stomach.

Tommy doubled over, and I used the moment to surface, gulping air. The water was chest-high now, the cabin almost completely submerged. I couldn’t see Tommy, but I felt his hands grasp my legs, pulling me down again.

This time, my head struck something hard—a cabinet or table now floating in the water. Blood clouded my vision, mymovements becoming sluggish as oxygen deprivation set in. Tommy’s hands closed around my throat, squeezing with manic strength.

My vision began to tunnel, darkness encroaching from the edges. I fought to break his grip, but my strength was fading.

Suddenly, Tommy’s grip loosened. A new pair of hands grabbed me, pulling upward. I broke what was left of the surface inside the cabin, gasping and coughing.

“I’ve got you, boss.” Logan’s voice came through the rushing in my ears. “Come on, we need to move.”

I couldn’t respond, couldn’t do more than focus on drawing air into my burning lungs. Logan dragged me toward the stairs, now nearly submerged. Tommy was nowhere to be seen.

“Ethan!” Mel’s voice, panicked and desperate, penetrated my mental fog. She appeared above us, reaching down. “Give me your hand!”

I extended my arm, feeling her fingers close around mine. With Logan pushing from below and Mel pulling from above, they hauled me up to the deck, now tilting at a forty-five-degree angle.

The moment my feet found purchase on the sloping deck, Mel threw herself against me. I grimaced, more leaning on her than catching her.

“Are you okay?” I asked, trying to inspect her as best I could in the darkness. Logan was already moving toward the raft.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said. “I?—”

Tommy emerged from the water behind Mel, drenched and wild-eyed, his gun still clutched in his hand. Blood streamed from a gash on his forehead, but the rage in his eyes burned through the pain as he raised the weapon toward her back.

“Mel, down!” I shouted, my voice returning in a surge of adrenaline.

She dropped instantly without question. Tommy’s shot went wide, the bullet splintering wood where she’d stood a secondbefore. Logan had already tossed me his backup weapon. Despite my trembling hands and blurred vision, my training took over. I squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession.

Tommy jerked backward, surprise replacing rage as he looked down at the crimson blooming across his chest. His gun clattered to the deck as he stumbled, his legs giving way. He reached toward Mel one last time, his mouth forming words I couldn’t hear over the roar of water consuming the boat.

Then he slipped backward into the churning darkness, the sea claiming him before he could draw another breath.

The boat was sinking rapidly now, the stern rising as the bow plunged deeper. We swam to the raft, and somehow the guys managed to pull me on board, because I sure as shit couldn’t get there myself.

“Pickup boat is on the way.” Jace’s voice came through the comms. “Two minutes out.”

I lay in the bottom of the raft, staring up at the stars, Mel’s hand clasped tightly in mine. The realization that she was safe—that we’d gotten her back—washed over me in a wave of relief so powerful I almost blacked out.

“You know,” I managed to croak through my damaged throat, “when I said I’d always come back for you, I didn’t mean I’d sink a yacht to do it.”

Mel’s laugh was watery, halfway to a sob. “Next time, maybe just call a cab.”

“Next time,” I echoed, squeezing her hand as the edges of my vision began to darken, “I’m not letting you out of my sight at all. So, there won’t be a next time.”

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