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CHAPTER 39
Jack stood frozen in place, ice crystals forming in his gut. His heart was nearly hammering out of his chest. Alex still pointed the gun at the ground, but shifted his grip, drawing attention to the weapon. The former SEAL stared at Wayne with no indication of nervousness. He looked like a man who could shoot Wayne in the head and sleep like a baby that night.
“Get out of here, Wayne,” Jack said. “Now.”
Wayne flicked his eyes to Jack before returning them to the gun. He slowly raised his gaze to meet Alex’s. “Fine. I’m leaving.”
Alex took another step forward. “I’d suggest leaving St. Croix altogether this time, Wayne. You have no future on this island—I’m going to see to that.”
Wayne pressed his lips into a thin line, then without a word, spun and walked between his two guards.
They were turning to follow when Alex called out, “Hey, Joe Dirt.” While Pirate Guy was turning around, he switched the gun to his left hand and fear flickered in the thug’s eyes. Alex moved forward impossibly fast and punched him square in the mouth. Pirate Guy staggered backwards, mullet flying, windmilling his arms rapidly, and crashed into Earring, who caught him.
“That’s for my wife’s black eye, you son of a bitch. If I see you again, next time I won’t pull my punch. Get out of here.”
Alex glowered at the man, who was wrapped up in Earring’s arms to keep from falling. Jack almost clapped a hand over his mouth to keep in the horrified laughter bubbling toward the surface. Earring, you should try out for the local baseball team as a catcher. Then he blinked rapidly. The stress was making him giddy.
Wayne hadn’t even looked back, disappearing over the rise. Pirate Dude untangled himself from his friend and spat, his blood-tinged saliva bright against the white sand. He ran a finger over his teeth, but they were all there. “I told you that was an accident. We got no beef with you, man. We just work for that asshole. And not for long, either.”
An engine started and the sound slowly faded as Wayne drove away.
“I seriously couldn’t care less,” Alex said. “If you’re not out of here in the next thirty seconds, we’re going to kick the ever-loving shit out of both of you.”
Jack let a smile creep over his face and moved to Alex’s side, gratified that he’d been included in the shit kicking.
Earring held out a hand. “Put the gun down. We’re goin’, ok?” The two men hunched off, Earring throwing one last glance over his shoulder. The old Explorer coughed and belched, but it started and soon Half Moon Bay was silent once again.
Alex turned his attention to his pistol, unchambering the bullet, then placed the gun in the small of his back before glancing at the two remaining men. “You two all right? Dexter?”
The old man raised a shaky hand to his forehead and nodded. “Well, that was a bit more dramatic than I was hopin’ for.”
Jack opened and closed his sore right hand. His bloody knuckles were swollen, but nothing was broken. He placed a hand on Dexter’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back home. We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
“I’m not gonna argue with that.”
Dexter clutched Jack’s arm for support as the three men made their way back to his Ranger. Alex led, sweeping his head back and forth. He wore his T-shirt untucked, and the gun was invisible.
Frowning, Dexter stared at the tall man’s back. “You always go around armed? I thought you were a dive guide.”
Alex answered without looking back. “I am. Let’s just say my previous occupation mixed diving and guns.”
Dexter slowed for a few steps. Jack tightened his hold, but the older man waved him off. “Now I know why you look familiar. I read about you in the paper.”
Alex’s sigh was loud in the quiet jungle. “Yeah, I’m still waiting for that to die away.”
They arrived at the deserted area around Jack’s pickup. After it was unlocked, Alex climbed into the tight back seat as Dexter belted in. Jack turned to his boss. “You sure you want to ride along? You can just go home if you want.”
Alex snapped his head up, eyes wide with mock horror. All traces of that cold, deadly man were gone. “Are you kidding? Hope and Sara are both back there. I’m not going up against them alone. We’ll drop Dexter off, then come back to face the really formidable adversaries.”
* * *
Later that evening, Sara scooped a handful of ice into a zip-closed baggie. Elbowing the freezer door shut, she joined Jack on the couch in his great room. “Here, put this on your hand. I knew I should have taken this afternoon off. Did you even ice it?”
He shrugged, but obediently placed the ice on his swollen knuckles. “It’s not that bad.”
Sara sighed. Men...
Before leaving that morning, Jack had assured her he wasn’t expecting any trouble. While the men were at the northern property, she and Hope had chit-chatted nervously as Hope made a mango coffee cake. Finally, Jack texted Sara, saying everything had gone well, and that Alex was riding along as he took Dexter home. Both women had breathed a relieved sigh.
