The Fearless King (The Kings #2)(85)

Journey pulled the trigger.

Her gun bucked in her hands, but she was expecting it. She pulled the trigger twice more in quick succession, her mother’s voice in her head. If you have to pull the trigger, you make damn sure they’re not going to get back up again.

Red bloomed on her father’s white shirt in a cluster in the center of his chest. His gun fell from nerveless fingers and he hit his knees. He blinked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “You shot me.”

“Yes, I did.” She kept the gun trained on him as she slid a step closer to Frank. Her shoulders ached from the effort, but she wasn’t about to let her guard down now.

“You…” He touched his chest and looked at his red-stained fingers. “I didn’t think you would.”

“You don’t know me anymore.” She cast a quick look around, but there was nothing sharp sitting conveniently close. She stalked to Elliott as he collapsed onto his back. Journey kicked the gun farther from him. I shot him. I shot my father. She took a shaking breath and went to her knees next to him. A quick pat down found a knife in his pocket. A fancy switchblade that probably cost a small fortune.

Elliott’s hand closed around her wrist, but there was no strength in his grip. Blood flecked his lips, and his blue eyes were glassy. “You’ll never be rid of me.”

“I’m already rid of you.” She hurried to Frank.

He shook his head as if waking from a dream. “You came for me.”

“Of course I came for you, you ass. I wasn’t going to let him kill you.” Journey touched his head gingerly. The wound was still bleeding, though not freely. No telling if he had a concussion until they got him into the hospital. She sawed through his zip ties and sat back on her heels. “I don’t suppose you know how to drive a yacht?”

“Journey.” He rubbed his wrists and then took her by her shoulders. “You came for me.”

She cupped his face gently. “I’ll always come for you, Frank. I love you.”

*



Frank pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, not sure if she was shaking or if he was. “Don’t ever do that again, Duchess. I swear to fucking God, if you scare me like that again, I’ll put you over my knee and paddle your ass.”

She laughed against his chest. “I hate to be the one to tell you, Frank, but that’s not exactly a deterrent from where I’m sitting.”

“You won’t be sitting for a fucking week when I’m through with you.”

Another of those intoxicating laughs, though it faded far too fast. She twisted to look at her old man. “He’s dead.”

“Yeah, he is.” Frank would have spared her pulling the trigger if he could have. He’d held his fucking breath until he went light-headed while she faced off with her father, waiting for his opportunity to leap at the man.

It never came.

Journey didn’t need him to save her. She saved herself, and him in the bargain.

It wasn’t over yet, though.

He forced himself to let go of Journey. “We need to get the hell back to Houston.”

“Yeah.” She wiped the back of her hand across her forehead. “Anderson and your men are coming—and probably the cops or Coast Guard or whoever handles crimes on the water.”

He looked back at the spot where Houston had disappeared on the horizon. She’d had backup, which was more than he could say. She’d covered all the bases. “I love you.”

“I know.” Journey’s breath hitched. “Let’s get off this fucking boat.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth.” Frank started for the navigation system when the yacht lurched hard enough to throw both him and Journey to their knees. “What the fuck?”

She scrambled to her feet and ran to the railing to look over. “Uh, Frank?”

“Yeah?” He climbed to his feet again.

“I think we have bigger problems.” She pointed to a plume of smoke curling from the rapidly tilting yacht.

Frank grabbed the railing to steady himself and cursed at the sight. The yacht gave another lurch, and his palms went clammy when he realized they were much, much closer to the surface of the bay than they had been a few seconds ago. “Who the hell blew a hole in the yacht?”

“Uh, now might be a good time to mention that my brother was really insistent I get off this boat. I don’t think he meant like this, though.” She gulped. “I’m not exactly a great swimmer, Frank.”

Fuck.

They did not survive this long to drown before help could get to them. Frank grabbed her hand. “I need you to jump, Duchess.”

“Jump?”

“If we don’t get off this fucking ship, it will suck us down when it goes under. We have to get clear.” He started searching the area, yanking the cushions from the bench seat and testing them. They weren’t life jackets, but they would float. It’ll have to do. He thrust one at Journey. “Come on.” He hauled her down the stairs to the main deck. Their best chance lay in jumping from the bow and swimming like hell. He climbed over the railing and waited for her to do the same. After the slightest hesitation, Journey followed him to the edge.

“Jump, Duchess.” Frank didn’t give her the chance to change her mind.