Page 28 of Martyr
Wait.
Shit, Kade, too?
The smoke makes it clear that it wasn’t a building that exploded. It’s too far out. Maybe a boat caught fire and the gas tank made that noise? It would be possible… it could’ve been a bigger ship. Possible.Plausible.
I finally clear the buildings and stop short.
Wishful thinking on my part.
The whole fucking marina is gone. There are some boats in the distance, seemingly unmanned and being pulled out to sea. Ropes trail off their sides in the water.
But thedocks, the fencing that kept people out, and the boats kept close—as well as the harbormaster’s office—have been obliterated.
How?
Why?
Unease slides through me.
Was this Kade?
Or… Gabriel?
Gabriel tried to blow up Terror. It would not be out of the question to assume he’d followed Kade, spotted me, and wanted to trap me here.
Is that alittleegotistical to think everything is about me? Probably.
Butdamn.
The firefighters are busy putting out lingering flames, but there’s not much to salvage. A crowd gathers around me, spectators drawn to the sight. There’s tension in the air. Some whisper about accidents, others suggest terrorism. But who would try to terrorize the Isle of Paradise?
“This will take weeks,” someone murmurs. “There’s that other dock, but I imagine it’ll be under supervision.”
“Whose?” another questions.
“I imagine it would be a Coast Guard problem. And then, if this wasn’t an accident, there will be an investigation…”
A chill runs down my spine.
I slip away. I didn’t grab a coat, and the thin, long-sleeve shirt isn’t cutting it now that my adrenaline has worn off. I glance down an alley on my way back and freeze.
Saint.
But, worse—Kade. He has someone pinned to the wall, and my heart skips.
Fucking Reese.
I don’t think about it. I immediately change direction and approach them.
“Are you following me?” Kade asks, shaking Reese by the front of his shirt.
Reese, for his position, seems largely unbothered. “You’d be so flattered by that, wouldn’t you?”
Neither man notices me. I come to a stop next to Saint, whose cheeks are flushed from the cold. He looks over, and his eyebrows rise.
“Don’t seem so surprised,” I whisper. “What the hell are you doing?”
“This guy presented an interesting offer.”
