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Prologue
Sheets of cold, hard rain pounded down from the dark Florida sky and waves crashed against the shore with an ungodly force. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked, brightening the silhouette of a salvage ship anchored offshore.
A small motor boat pulled up alongside the salvage ship, bouncing around in the ocean like a cork. It was enough to make even the most experienced seafarer green around the gills. Two men in wetsuits secured the smaller boat and climbed aboard. They lugged dive gear and other equipment onto the tilting deck.
Dylan Ford struggled to stand upright, legs akimbo, his long, lean body moving with the pitch and roll of the ship. He gave his dark head a shake and slicked his wet hair back with large, callused hands. It was a little too long and needed a good cut. But, it was just the way he liked it. A little wild and dangerous-looking just like the rest of him. Rain sluiced down his chiseled face and caught in his long spiky lashes. He licked several drops off his upper lip and looked up at the black sky above.
The sooner this is over, the better,he thought. Then, he reached down to start a pre-check on his scuba gear.
Nearby, Tony Burke threw an aluminum air tank onto his back. A dangerous air hovered around him and he blinked raindrops out of his eyes. All of a sudden, a bolt of lightning struck a metal pole beside Dylan. He jumped, sparks flying and showering over him and the deck.
Tony laughed. “I told you lightning could be a problem.”
Dylan looked down at himself, grateful to not be on fire, and then lifted his middle finger at Tony.
Last night, clear skies and a golden-red sunset had filled the Florida sky. In a dimly-lit corner, Dylan sat in a booth across from Tony at the Sand Bar, a local dive. His long fingers wrapped around a beer bottle, turning it in a circle, and his shrewd mind raced.I need a big score, he thought.
Actually, it was a little more than need. He was currently in fucking desperate straits and if he didn’t get his hands on some cash soon, he didn’t know what the hell he was going to do.
“Lightning could be a problem,” Tony predicted.
Dylan took a long swig of beer, listening to a guy he didn’t trust and didn’t like overly much either. “Best time to find treasure is right after a big storm,” Dylan said. “The rough water shifts everything around.”
“That’s why we need to goduringthe storm.”
Dylan arched a dark brow. Tony wasn’t the brightest guy he knew and diving thirty feet deep in rough ocean water darker than ink wasn’t his idea of smart. In fact, after a run-in with a bull shark a few years ago, he avoided diving at night altogether. But, at this point, he was out of options and needed cash fast. Like yesterday.
“Last major storm revealed 100 chests down there and over the last six months, they’ve only pulled out 30 and haven’t opened one.” Tony snorted in derision. “They just sit in salt water tanks, soaking in a cleaning solution. Fucking asinine.”
“The salvage company is trying to preserve them,” Dylan said smoothly. “It’s Florida law.”
“Fuck Florida law,” Tony hissed. “Who cares if the goddamn trunk is preserved? I want what’sinsideand there are at least 50 more chests sitting down there, rotting. I say we go grab a couple. Who the hell’s gonna know?” He pushed his empty beer bottle over against several others, hitting them with a clink. “Anything down there belongs to the sea and whoever has the balls to go down and get it.”
Dylan wasn’t a fool. Luck hadn’t been his friend the last few years and he owed a lot of money to a lot of people. Unsavory people who wouldn’t hesitate to break his bones first and ask questions second. Word had gotten around town that he was in dire straits and now Tony suddenly wanted to partner up? Something felt off. But, this could be the score he needed to settle his debts. “Why me?” he asked.
Tony shrugged. “I heard you could use some extra cash. I’m sure it’s not cheap to keep your Ma in that home.”
Fuck. He had hit the nail on the head. Five years ago, Nora Ford had finally worked herself into the ground. Ever since his Dad had left them when Dylan was a kid, Nora did everything she could to make ends meet. Dylan tried to convince her to slow down and told her she needed to take a day off sometimes, but she was a worker. And, despite all of her side jobs, there never seemed to be enough money.
The call had broken Dylan’s heart. His Mom had been at her third job, and right in the middle of pouring coffee for a customer, when she collapsed. He rushed over to the hospital where the doctor told him that his mother had cancer. Fucking lung cancer, of all things. Completely ironic since the woman never smoked a cigarette a day in her life.
Chemo and radiation had helped for awhile, but the cancer metastasized and spread to her colon, stomach and finally, to her brain. This past year, Dylan had to place her in a facility with round-the-clock care.
He just couldn’t care for her by himself any longer and he hated it. Felt guilty leaving her there. But, he visited every day. He made sure of it.
Tony leaned forward, over the cracked formica table, and narrowed his eyes. “Besides, you’re the only sonofabitch crazy enough to do it.”
Yeah, he had that right. Dylan had a stack of medical bills to pay and he’d borrowed money from people who he should have gone out of his way to avoid.
Back on the salvage ship, Dylan tied a rope around a notch on deck while Tony loaded a spear gun. Dylan’s gaze moved over to study the black water and his stomach churned. Sweat dripped down his body within the wetsuit. He took a deep, steadying breath and forced down the overwhelming dread that poured through him.
The chance of it happening again is slim to none, he reminded himself.Besides, this time you’re prepared. He checked the military-issued Ka-Bar strapped around his thigh. Serrated and sharp as shit. Just the way he liked it.
Think about Ma,he told himself.You’re doing this for her. Fuck the sharks.
Besides, he refused to let a little dark, cold, rough, shark-filled water stop him.I am definitely the only one crazy enough to do this.He checked his dive watch, then slid his mask down and put the regulator in his mouth.
Ah, fuck it,he thought, and stepped off the edge of the deck, sinking into the choppy, black waves below.
