Page 25 of Against the Wind

This was insane. No shoes, no shirt, no weapon, chasing a suspect through a hurricane. But Mickey could be our break. I hadn’t been here for the months of dead ends and careful surveillance already conducted by the task force. They’d brought me in as fresh eyes. This could crack things open. Give us new avenues to pursue. If I could just keep him in sight.

Another flash of lightning illuminated Mickey ducking behind a bait shop. I adjusted course, ignoring the bite of broken shells beneath my feet. The wind was picking up even more, blasting my skin with stinging sand and salt spray. But I couldn’t lose him. Not now.

I rounded the corner of the bait shop at full sprint. Mickey’s rigid arm caught me across the chest before I could react. My breath exploded out of me as I staggered back, but training kicked in. I dropped low, finding my balance again and dodging his next swing as I drove my shoulder into his midsection.

We crashed into a stack of crab pots. The metal cages clattered around us as we grappled. Mickey fought like a cornered animal, all elbows and knees. One caught me in the ribs. I tasted copper in my mouth.

A flash of lightning showed his face inches from mine, twisted in desperation. I managed to get an arm around his neck, but the rain made everything slick. He slammed an elbow back into my gut.

My grip loosened. Mickey twisted free and scrambled up. I lunged for his legs but only caught air. He kicked out toward my face, and I jerked back, only barely avoiding a boot to the teeth. As my quarry bolted toward the marina, I pushed to my feet. The wind howled between the buildings, creating a wind tunnel effect that nearly knocked me over. But I couldn’t lose him. Not when he was this close. Whether he was the break that the task force needed or not, I was taking this bastard down to find out whether Gabi was in any further danger.

I sprinted after his retreating form. We’d left the main road of the village and made it all the way to the marina. Deck boards creaked under our feet as we raced past the covered slips. Waves crashed against the pilings, sending spray across the walkway. Mickey was fast, but I was gaining ground.

He glanced back, another lightning flash illuminating the fear on his face. Then he vaulted over the railing toward one of the boats. I followed without hesitation, hitting the deck of the vessel hard. Mickey scrambled past the cabin, and I launched myself after him.

My shoulder slammed into Mickey’s legs as he tried to climb onto the bow. I didn’t know where the fuck he thought he was going in this storm. We crashed onto the deck, sliding across the rain-slicked surface. The boat pitched beneath us as waves battered its hull. Mickey’s elbow caught me on the side of the head, but I managed to keep my grip around his waist.

He thrashed like a hooked fish, trying to break free. My fingers found purchase on his soaked jacket. The fabric only bunched around his arms as he tried to twist out of it. I yanked him back as he attempted to crawl away, using his own momentum to flip him. His head cracked against the deck.

“Stay down!” I rolled him over, pressing my knee into his back to pin him.

Mickey bucked and twisted. “Get off me!”

Ignoring the assortment of bruises no doubt blooming everywhere from the fight, I grabbed his wrist, wrenching it behind his back. My free hand searched the deck, finding a coil of rope secured to a cleat. I yanked it free, wrapping it around his wrists. The wet line bit into my palms as I pulled it tight.

“You’re under arrest,” I growled, securing the knots despite his struggles. “For breaking and entering, attempted theft, assault—” The wail of the wind carried away the rest of my litanyof charges. I was technically on the water. I had jurisdiction until I could transfer him to local law enforcement.

“I want a lawyer.”

“Smart choice.” I made what amounted to a leash out of the remaining rope. “Though running into a hurricane wasn’t your brightest move.”

Mickey went limp beneath me, finally accepting defeat. The wind screamed around us as I caught my breath, rain hammering against my back. I needed to get him back to the clinic before the storm got any worse. And I had some questions that couldn’t wait for the weather to clear.

The boat pitched hard to starboard. I grabbed the railing with one hand, keeping Mickey pinned with the other. We needed off this death trap before the storm ripped it loose from its moorings.

“Up,” I ordered, hauling Mickey to his feet. He swayed, unsteady with his arms bound behind his back.

I half-dragged him toward the pier, timing our move between wave surges. The gap looked wider with each passing second as the boat strained against its lines. Mickey stumbled at the edge, nearly taking us both down.

“Gonna have to jump.”

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“‘Course I am. I’m Cajun. Now jump!” I half threw him over the railing as another wave lifted the boat. Mickey landed hard on the pier, rolling toward the edge. I leaped after him, catching his jacket just as he started to slide off the side. The fabric stretched, threatening to tear as I pulled him back from a fifteen-foot drop into churning water.

Mickey thrashed against my grip. “I can’t swim like this!”

“Then stop fighting.” I yanked him upright, keeping a firm hold on his arm. “Walk or I carry you.” I wasn’t sure how I’d manage the latter, because now that the adrenaline was fading,I could feel all the slices I’d taken to my bare feet during the pursuit.

He chose to walk, though ‘walking’ was generous. The wind hit us full force on the exposed pier, driving needles of rain sideways. I had to grab the railing twice to keep us both from being blown over. Mickey stumbled again, this time taking us both down. My knee cracked against the boards.

“Get up.” I hauled him back to his feet.

We fought our way forward step by step, the wind trying to push us back with each move. My bare feet found every splinter in the weathered boards. The rain was so heavy I could barely breathe without choking on water. Mickey kept slipping on the slick surface, forcing me to practically carry him, anyway.

A massive gust caught us broadside. I slammed Mickey against a piling, shielding him with my body as debris whipped past. Something sharp caught my back, but I held on until the gust passed.

“Move,” I growled in his ear, shoving him forward again. There were still at least three blocks between here and the clinic.

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