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A strained chuckle burst from my lips as I pressed my hand over the wound.
Tyler ran into the room on unsteady legs. Soot covered his cheek, and his hair was a matted mess on his forehead. “Where’s your fire extinguisher?”
“On the wall in the hut.”
He squatted at my side. “You still with us, Old Man?”
“Don’t worry about me. Save our fucking boat,” Dad said.
“Copy that.” Tyler sprinted away.
The inferno devoured the lower deck, reducing the stacks of money to ash, and flames leaped three feet into the air, licking the rusty railing that overlooked the dive deck below.
Dad groaned. “Indy, forget about me. You need?—”
“Hey. Cut that out.” I pressed harder on his wound.
He winced.
“You’re going to be fine, Dad.”
He turned his fierce glare on me. His warm blood seeped through my fingers.
“Indy.” Dad’s soothing tone scared the crap out of me. “I need to tell you something.” His once strong fingers trembled, and he placed his hand over mine. His skin seemed paper thin, like too much blood had left his extremities.
Clutching the fire extinguisher, Tyler ran headfirst into the thick smoke. He blasted the deck with a stream of foam. Rhino groaned like a monstrous beast was trying to claw out of our cabins below.
“Tyler’s putting out the fire, Dad. We’ll be okay.”
“He’s a good man. You need to trust him.”
I blinked at my father, and his teary eyes mirrored the flaming chaos.
“Wow,” I said. “He’s really done a number on you.”
He attempted to laugh but gasped as pain etched the lines of his face deeper.
A burst of sparks erupted from the air compressor as Tyler doused the fire with thick foam. Flames crawled up from the deck and curled over the edge like the devil’s fingers reaching for Dad and me.
I should have helped Tyler, but it was already too late. The fire was out of control.
“Indiana, listen to me.” Dad’s grip on my hand tightened.
“Okay, I hear you, Dad. You want me to trust Tyler.”
“It’s not that.” He growled, and the fear in his eyes ripped into me.
He’s dying. He knows it, and I know it.
“I’m sorry you wasted so much time searching for the bastards who killed your mom.” His voice was gravelly, like his throat was scorched.
“I’m not. I’m going to get those fuckers, Dad. I promise you.” I squeezed his hand.
“I killed them.” He sucked in a huge mouthful of air.
“What are you talking about?”
“While you were in hospital . . .” Dad smacked his lips together.
