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“Now I know you’re onto something,” Kane yelled. “I thought Old Smithy was talking bullshit.”
“It’s just a hunch,” I yelled.
“Oh, I love your hunches.”
I pushed the second flare into the barrel of the gun.
“Hey,” he yelled across the distance. “Don’t you dare.”
“Leave now, or the next flare goes into that porthole.” I aimed for the open window below his deck that revealed wood-paneled walls and a large bed with fancy blue linen.
“Obviously, whatever you found is worth fighting for.” Kane’s eyes filled with a ruthless hunger that I’d seen many times. “Unless you’ve lodged claim rights, then I’m not going anywhere.”
A growl marched up my throat. “Son of a?—”
“Indiana!” Dad slapped my arm, and the gun kicked in my hand.
Time seemed to slow as a bright, searing orb arced across the distance between the two boats and embedded into the heart of the cushions on the curved seating nook behind Kane. Nothing happened. Then a small explosion blew two cushions off the sofa and the white fabric caught fire.
“Jesus Christ!” Kane sprinted in the opposite direction to the fire.
Flames created a tiny hiss, and I cringed as they increased to a loud crackle and raced across the length of the custom-made seating as if they were soaked in alcohol.
“Bloody hell, Indiana,” Dad said. “You sure know how to cause chaos.”
“Not helpful, Dad.”
Flames licked up from the cushions, feeding on the expensive, flammable material much quicker than I thought possible.
“Where did Kane go?” Dad asked.
“Don’t know, but he better hurry up.”
Kane’s shirt flapped at his sides as he sprinted back with a fire extinguisher in his arms.
A horn blasted ahead of us, and I jumped. Shielding the sun with my hand, I peered across the shimmering water. My blood ran cold. An inflatable patrol boat was bearing down on us.
“Fucking hell. It’s Border Force.” My stomach sank. “They must have seen my first flare.”
“Now you’re in trouble, Indiana!” Kane shouted as he blasted the flames with his fire extinguisher. “And it’s your own fucking fault.”
As smoke wafted over him, he shook his head at me like I was a naughty little girl.
“Screw you, Kane!”
I clenched my fists. Fury raced through me. My stupid actions could get me arrested . . . again.
Oh, Jesus! If I’m taken away, my GPS tracker will practically give Kane a giant X to mark the spot where the wreck site could be.
Fuck that. And fuck him.
I shoved the flare gun into Dad’s hands. “Get rid of that.”
I sprinted away.
“Where are you going?” Dad hollered.
“Just delay them. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
