Page 52 of The Witness

I shook my head. “Nah, the MC doesn’t get into a deal with a figurehead. We like men to prove they are men. Get their hands dirty.”

I pulled a big ass tactical knife from the sheath on my belt. I flipped it over and presented it to Sandoval hilt first. A sneer on my face that challenged his manhood. His choice was to prove he had balls or let me assume they were missing.

I willed him to take the knife. The moment he accepted the weapon, I’d signal the PNR and get Sabrina to safety.

I held Sabrina by her bound wrists with my left hand. As soon as I’d pulled the knife, she’d panicked, whimpering and trying to twist from my grasp. I couldn’t afford to let her slip free. One of Sandoval’s goons wouldn’t hesitate to punch her, or worse. I clenched down and mentally apologized for the bruises I was inflicting.

“Maybe we should cruise out to sea before—” Sandoval glanced around, looking for an excuse.

“Negative. People that go on pleasure cruises with you have a nasty habit of having to swim home.” I wagged the knife at him. Tempting, taunting.

Sandoval squared his shoulders and eyed the knife warily for a heartbeat before a huge, wide smile transformed his face into a sick parody of happiness that made me think of the Joker in the Batman movies.

The fucker loved this. Every sick, twisted moment. Gunter had called him a psychopath. He’d been right.

My fear for Sabrina rose to a new and terrifying level. In my head I was chantingtake the knifeat the same time I was looking for the best avenue of escape for us. My last resort, we’d go overboard.

Sandoval took the knife.

“I didn’t think you would be the type to pussy out.” It was the code phrase that would get the Cubans moving if Gunter hadn’t already goaded them into action. “My crew likes that. Wait until you meet Coyote. He’ll want to know all about today.”

“Motorcycle clubs are a bit like a cult, aren’t they? Have you killed for your president before?” Sandoval wasn’t looking at me or Sabrina. He stared at the knife, testing the edge against the pad of his thumb.

“I’ve proven myself to my brothers.”

“Your expensive suit is like my yacht. Window dressing. We’re both savages, aren’t we?” He tilted his gaze up to meet mine.

I’d thought his eyes reminded me of John Smith. I’d been wrong. They were soulless, inhuman. The same gleaming black eyeballs as a great white shark in a frenzy, wholly focused on one thing: prey.

“I don’t think we're the only dangerous men that enjoy camouflage.”

“Fair enough. Give her to me.” Sandoval stood, legs braced apart and one hand beckoning like he was inviting a knife fight not about to slaughter a defenseless woman. His gaze feasted on Sabrina.

I’d delayed as long as possible. No fucking way I handed her over. Sandoval might get one good stab in my back or shoulder, but before he struck again, we’d be over the side and swimming to safety.

“No.” Sabrina screamed and flopped to the deck, limp as a wet rag. She flailed her arms and legs in a windmill of chaos and confusion. It was such a wild change from the docile captive a moment before we were all shocked into stillness. I was the first to recover. I nabbed her elbow and pulled her toward the rail, sliding her across the polished deck.

I had one hand on the rail, ready to pull us over the side, when loud voices yelling in Spanish and pounding boots echoed from the bow.

Yippee ki yay mother fuckers. The cavalry had arrived. I’d kiss Mora and Acosta if we all got out alive.

Sabrina and I were no longer the most interesting thing on the Jabberwocky. That place of distinction went to the dozen or more men in black fatigues with automatic weapons streaming onto the boat from every direction. They weren’t only coming up the gangplank but had swarmed like rats from the yacht next to this one, jumping over the gap between the two boats. Acosta and Mora had delivered more manpower than I’d expected, and Gunter must have lit a fire under their asses to storm the boat before I uttered the code words.

I pulled Sabrina up and held her to my chest. “Put your hands out in front of you and don’t make any sudden moves. We may get out of this alive.”

“Fuck, we better.” She huddled into my chest. Her bold words made me want to smile. Damn, she was a brave woman.

Chapter 24

Sabrina

Translating shouted Spanish to English wasn’t high on my priority list at the moment. I was too grateful to be alive. The PNR swarmed over the boat, and men with guns shouted and pointed, taking control. I leaned into Michael and concentrated on slowing my pounding heart. We were safe. These were the good guys.

I’d seen my death when I looked into Sandoval’s dark eyes. It had been like watching a movie projected onto the obsidian depths, every detail in full technicolor.I’m on my knees, head tipped back. Sandoval’s well-manicured hand fists my bleach blonde hair. The knife lingers at my throat for a few horrifying moments before his grip tightens and he drags the blade over my jugular.

I’d seen the future and didn’t want any part of it.

So, I’d gone totally limp. Somewhere, I read if you were attacked going limp was a good way to surprise your captors. No one expected a struggling person to fall to the ground. Dead weight, the article called it.

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