Page 41 of Not This Soon

“Come on,” he spluttered, trying to rise, but her forearm kept him trapped, braced against his chest. She pushed him back.

“Stay,” she said with a scowl.

“It’s sinking!” he protested.

"And you caused it!"

“Get off me!” he tried to rise again and his fingers grabbed at her wrist, trying to twist.

But she snarled, breaking his grasp with a swift motion of her own and driving her knee into his groin. Her pity had run its course. Now she wanted answers.

Doubled over, he loosed a groan, gasping at the ground. He released a long breath of air.

"Tell me why Rebecca is dead!" Rachel's voice was harsh, her gaze ruthless and relentless.

Morris gasped, his body curling in on itself. "I...I didn't want this...I didn't..." He began to weep, his sobs mingling with the sounds of the cracking hull and the roaring blaze.

Rachel's expression hardened, and she stepped closer to him, not caring about the heat from the flames or the rise of water around them. She had no time for his pleas or his tears. All she wanted were answers.

"Then why did it happen?" She demanded, her voice barely remaining steady. "Why did you hire those men? What was your plan?"

Morris seemed to shrivel under her gaze. "I...I can't..."

"You can and you will," Rachel snapped, her patience worn thin. The yacht lurched again beneath them, its balance more precarious than ever. They could hear voices shouting in the distance - rescue teams approaching fast. But Rachel held firm.

"I had no choice!" Morris's voice was ragged, his chest heaving. "They would have killed me!”

Rachel's eyes narrowed. "Killed you? Why? What do they want from you?"

Morris shook his head, his gaze darting away. "I can't...I can't tell you."

Anger flared in Rachel's chest. She grabbed Morris by the collar, yanking him towards her.

Morris's face crumpled, tears welling in his eyes. "I didn't...I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I thought I could handle it on my own."

"Handle what?" Rachel's grip tightened. "What did you do, Morris?"

"I made a deal." The words spilled out of him in a rush. "With the cartel. They said they could help me, that they had connections. I was in debt. Crazy debt. You don't understand—people were counting on me. You are counting on me. I needed the money, bad."

“So you went to the cartel?”

“I didn’t know who they were at the time. I swear. They just had some money. Interest was affordable. But it all went wrong. Rebecca...she was with me that night. She wasn't supposed to be there. She started asking questions. Like she always does… Too many questions—spooked them. But I didn’tkillher!”

“What night?”

“The night we met with them.”

“How long before her death?”

“A week! Maybe ten days. I… I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he screamed, his face twisting, his expression that of an unhinged man.

The cartel.

So they were involved?

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