“Stay away from me!” she warned as Harmon, the only one standing, advanced on her. “I mean it!”
They’d taken her by surprise the first time. They had lured her into the chair, into the corner and she’d had no chance to fight back. But no fucking way was she going to let them touch her again, not without a damn good fight.
She swung again, hoping to at least deter Harmon’s persistent approach. But the swing was too wide, he ducked beneath it and launched himself at her middle. They staggered backwards with the impact. The wall slammed into her back and the camera, tripod and all, were torn from her fingers. The edges cut into her palms but the pain was mute compared to the crash of camera striking the wall and smashing to the floor in a ruined heap of shattered glass and broken plastic.
Cyril roared. “You idiot!”
The sound of his boss’s rage had Harmon faltering in his capture. His hold weakened and Juliette shoved him with all her strength, using the wall as leverage to drive him backwards. The jungle of cords caught the heel of his boots and gravity caught him. He went down, taking the spotlights with him in a deafening crash of exploding bulbs. Sparks flew, distracting Cyril and Harmon away from Juliette just long enough for her to grab the metal chair, close it and slam it down on Harmon’s head four times before he stopped moving.
Panting and wheezing, Juliette dropped the chair and staggered back. A choked sob left her, but she bottled the rest back up as she tried to hold it together. She whirled around, but wasn’t fast enough. Tight arms banded around her from behind, caging her to Delgado’s hard chest. The collision nearly sent them both to the ground, but her captor held on, cracking ribs and breathing hot, sour breath on her neck.
“No!”
Her screams went ignored as Calhoun shuffled to his feet, no longer in a heap with Delgado. His face was a ghastly mask of smeared blood and rage that blazed behind his eyes. Blood stained his teeth and darkened the front of his coat. He wiped under his nose with his forearm, making the mess worse, but not caring as he descended on her.
“You stupid fucking whore!”
His hand flew back, palm open. Juliette reflexively flinched. Her entire body seized, bracing for the blow, for the sharp explosion of lights and the daze that would follow. She remembered all too well how Arlo’s beating had felt, had remembered how paralyzed and useless she’d become. But this was worse. If they got even a pinch of an upper hand, she was done. They would win and they would not go easy.
A sound rang out, a bang that shook the room and rattled the windows. For a moment, no one moved, time itself seemed to pull to a stop as the sound reverberated the way thunder did after the crack of lightning. Juliette’s eyes met Calhoun’s wide ones for just a split second and something like shock passed between them before they both simultaneously glanced down at the red blossom spreading across the front of his coat. It had nothing to do with the broken nose she’d given him and they both knew it. His head jerked up and their gazes locked a second time, this time with horror as he went down at her feet.
“One down, four to go.” A gun was cocked. “Who wants to piss me off next?”
It was a tossup who was more stunned by the figure standing just inside the patio doors, smoking gun raised. Juliette was the first to break out of her shock.
“Arlo?” By far the very last person in the world she ever expected to see coming to her rescue. “What…?”
Brown eyes never wavering from her, he raised the hand not holding the gun and brought it to his mouth.
“Got her. Sixth boat. Don’t even,” he warned when Delgado began pulling Juliette backwards. “Let her go.”
Delgado’s arms only tightened further, crushing her. Their feet tangled as he continued guiding her further away towards the secret compartment at the back. Juliette dug her heels in. She put all her weight down, refusing to be taken anywhere.
Another bang exploded and a perfect, black hole smoldered inches from Delgado’s foot.
“Not going to say it again,” Arlo said, twisting the hammer back. “Let her go.”
Against her shoulder blade, Delgado’s heart hammered. His hot breath washed along the back of her neck, making her skin prickle. She tried to jerk away. She tried stomping on his foot and clawing at his arms, but he was adamant about keeping her as his own personal human shield.
“Counting to three,” Arlo went on. “One … two—”
“Juliette?”
Like a beautiful sunrise over a majestic landscape, Killian charged through the patio doors behind Arlo and immediately took possession of all the air in the room. His very presence shrank all her fears. It smothered every ounce of the nightmare she’d been living the last couple of weeks. Suddenly, there was no room for anything but an unimaginable happiness at the sight of him.
“Killian!”
Dark eyes found hers. They roamed over her once before noticing the man holding her. They went impossibly black with rage. His chin rose a notch as every hard line of his body stiffened. Before her eyes, he seemed to grow in size as power and dominance radiated off him in dangerous waves.
“You’re surrounded,” he stated evenly. “There are roughly twenty men aboard this ship at this very moment. The odds of you making it off alive are very slim either way, but if you don’t get your hands off her, I can promise you’ll wish I’d killed you.”
Delgado released her instantly. For good measure, he staggered back and nearly fell over the unconscious—or possibly dead—body of Alcorn.
Juliette didn’t let him get very far. Bolting forward, she snatched the laptop off the table and swung it across his head. The machine made a distinct crack as the screen shattered and snapped off. Delgado flew backwards, tripped over Alcorn and hit the ground with a sickening crunch as his head ricocheted off the bar.
Panting, Juliette dropped the bit of computer she still held and stomped on it, breaking off keys and cracking plastic. Not sure if that was enough to destroy the files, she grabbed the whiskey bottle off the counter and dumped the whole thing on top.
“Juliette…”
Shivering and rapidly falling apart, Juliette spun and flung herself into Killian’s waiting arms. One hooked around her middle while the hand on the other closed in her hair, mashing her face into his shoulder. Her own arms locked around his ribs. Her hands fisted in the fabric of his coat as she inhaled his soothing scent. She clasped him close to stifle the broken sounds struggling up her throat, the ones that rocked through her very core in violent waves. Tears burned, amplifying the urge to break and just sob for all she was worth. But not yet. She couldn’t. She needed to hold on a little longer.
“Are you hurt?” The question was an uneven growl.
Juliette shook her head. “You came.” Her breath caught around the words. Her voice broke. “You really came.”
“Nothing was going to stop me.” His arms tightened. “God, Juliette.”
A bang made them both jump. Something shattered.
“Don’t you even,” Arlo warned, gun aimed at Cyril. Broken pieces of glass lay at his feet from the lamp Arlo had shot. “I’ve got a clear shot at your head and no one’ll miss you.”
“Oh!”
Pulling out of Killian’s embrace, Juliette hurried to Alcorn. She dropped down and unhooked the ring of keys from his damp belt loop. She ignored the smear of blood as she tore them free.
“Juliette, what…?”
Ignoring the question, she ran to the compartment door. It took some fiddling and prodding before she found the secret panel that unlatched the door. It hissed open.
“It’s okay.” She promised when Killian started after her. Not waiting, she sprinted down the stairs. “Maraveet? Maraveet, get up!”
The woman’s head shot up out of her folded arms and she blinked her green eyes. They widened at the sight of Juliette. Then shot past her to the open door.
“What…?”
“Come on!” Juliette urged, flipping through the keys until she found the right one. She undid the door and rushed inside to help Maraveet to her feet. “It’s okay,” she said. “Killian’s here.”