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The beeping continued, relentless and mocking.
Tyler swept his gaze to me, shaking his head.
“Dad, maybe?—”
“Shut up, Indiana.” Dad swung again. The ax glanced off the case and embedded into the timber deck.
“Dad!” I yelled. “Stop.”
Dad yanked the ax free.
Tyler pointed at me. “Get back. Stay behind something solid.”
Despite being torn between him and Dad, I obeyed. Marching to the crane, I eased in behind the solid-metal base. Tyler’s eyes fixed on me, worry etched on his features.
He stepped toward Dad. “Listen.”
“Back off, Kingsley,” Dad said, raising the ax again.
They locked gazes, Tyler with his piercing blue eyes, and Dad with his brutal determination. Tyler’s attempts to stop him would be futile.
A pair of sea eagles swooped overhead as if getting the fuck out of there.
“This is a bad idea, Smithy.” Tyler stepped back with his hands raised in reluctant surrender, but his jaw was clenched tight enough to crush pearls.
The way Tyler watched every move my father made with hawk-like intensity proved he was an alpha male, yet he seemed to know that fighting with Dad would only make my father even more reckless.
Dad put his bare foot onto the case to hold it in position and the ax came down hard, once, twice, three times. The sound echoed off Rhino’s deck and reverberated through my bones. I flinched with each strike, expecting Dad to cut off his damn foot—or for the case to explode. It continued beeping.
“Careful, Dad,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. Dad hated me worrying about him.
Dad swung again, and the ax blade glanced off the corner. The case shot sideways and slammed into our scuba tanks.
“Fucking hell, Smithy,” Tyler said. “Will you just think about this?”
His muscles strained as he pulled the two tanks back from the case. Dad swung again.
I ran to help Tyler drag the tanks up the stairs.
“Get back,” Tyler said.
Ignoring him, I helped him drag the tanks into the equipment room. Another metal twang rang from below.
“Can you stop him?” Tyler’s eyes pleaded.
I shook my head. There would be no stopping Dad now. He never backed down from something he started. His refusal to back down from the men who raided our boat all those years ago was the reason Mom and I were both thrown overboard with our hands tied behind our backs.
“You could blow up the whole fucking boat,” Tyler called down to Dad, but his protest was ignored as Dad gave the case another blow.
The lock gave way with a shattering crack, went flying across the deck, and plopped into the ocean.
Dad cheered.
Tyler stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body.
I peered over Tyler’s shoulder, glaring at the case.
Dad’s breathing was ragged as he pried his fingers into the seal. The case flung open.
