Page 130 of Beloved Sacrifice

Chapter Twenty-One

They were on their yacht in Emerald Marina when Rose tracked them down via the least complicated way possible. Once they’d landed at Sea-Tac, she used a payphone at the airport—she was surprised they still had them—to call Elroy. She’d kept the conversation short, saying only that she had to talk to them, all three of them, right now.

The Andersons had been sailing down the West Coast and Elroy told her she would simply have to wait until they returned.

Two weeks had passed since then. Two wonderful weeks spent falling madly in love with her husbands.

That happiness didn’t end until this morning, when Elroy called and “summoned her” to the marina. Now she was striding down the pier to berth twenty, where their pleasure yacht, Eileen, was docked. When she walked onto the dock, she heard a bell chime on the deck, and Elroy appeared. He wore a blue button-down shirt and gray slacks. He looked much the same as he always had, with black hair unmarked by silver and the piercing dark eyes of a shark.

Rose’s heart squeezed tight.

“It’s okay, Brown Eyes,” Weston whispered.

Rose didn’t dare respond. She had the Bluetooth headset in her ear and a brand-new cell phone tucked into her jacket pocket. Additionally, a wire was taped to her chest, and everything she said or heard was being recorded. It was Marek who had suggested the cell phone and Bluetooth, giving them a way to talk to her. That had allowed her to relax a little.

She hadn’t been alone with the Andersons in years.

“Rose.” Elroy pushed out the gang plank. “Come up.”

The command made her muscles quiver.

“What’s the name of the boat?” Marek asked.

The question startled her so much that she answered, forgetting about Elroy’s order. “Eileen,” she said aloud.

“Speak up, Rose.”

Rose took a deep breath, then walked up, holding the rails as she stepped onto the teak deck of the thirty-foot boat.

Elroy examined her from head to foot. As if she were a piece of property. He paid special attention to the marks leftover from the fight.

“Were you disobedient, girl?”

Run, run, run.

“Why is it named Eileen?” Marek asked, again startling her out of her dark head space.

“Why is it named Eileen?” she asked Elroy.

“Watch your tone,” he snapped in a hard voice of command.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” The words were out before she could stop them. She felt herself starting to crumble.

Elroy grunted in satisfaction, then answered the question. “Victoria chose the name. It was her mother’s name.”

“I’m going to castrate that motherfucker and then cane him until his skin falls off. Then I’m going to poke out his eye with a burning piece of wood, then I’m going to…”

Weston’s angry litany made her feel better. It probably said something unflattering about her that she found listening to someone’s plans to torture and maim another human calming. Then again, Elroy was barely human.

Wes kept his focus on Rose, watching the scene on the boat through the scope on his long-distance rifle as he looked out the window of the yacht Marek had rented for the day. They were only six berths down, but to Wes, it felt like Rose was a hundred miles away. He’d been uneasy with the idea of sending her in alone, but in the end, they decided this was the best way. She was on speakerphone, the Bluetooth headset allowing them to hear everything that was said. If Elroy said anything, did anything to threaten her, Weston would shoot him. The son of a bitch would never touch her again.

He wiped his hand on his jeans, his palms clammy, sweaty. Seeing his father this close after so many years was even harder than he imagined.

Years of hatred had festered inside Weston for so long, it was all he could do to stand here and wait. Every impulse had him clamoring to pull the trigger right now, to put a bullet in the middle of Elroy’s fucking head.

He hadn’t meant to lose his shit, but hearing the way Elroy talked to Rose was too much. Weston put his finger back on the trigger, his hand shaking, the action not lost on Marek, who reached over to place a comforting hand on his back to steady him.

He looked at his new husband. Marek was solid. Weston didn’t realize how much he’d come to rely on the other man’s inherent strength. Just the touch of his hand helped to bolster Weston, allowed him to calm down.

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