Page 72 of Island Protector

He couldn’t make out Clinton’s reply, but Molly’s gasp was clear enough. “Are you okay?”

“You can see he’s fine.”

Miles heard a thud and assumed Clinton had shoved the boy down. He’d pay for that.

“Come on, now. Get across that boat and toss me the money.”

“I want Bryce first.”

“You’ll get him. Move it,” he snapped.

Miles hadn’t anticipated the way he would use the other boats, but it made sense. Unfortunately, it put him too far away for a direct intervention. He had to rely on Caldwell and Knox for the takedown. His priority was rescuing Bryce. Protecting Molly.

Clinton’s clever tactic put Molly in a precarious position. Miles worried her fear would prevent her from following the instructions.

He braced to intervene, halting when he heard Molly’s footsteps on the dock. Of course she’d manage it. She was the strongest person he knew. Stronger still when her son’s life was in the balance.

“I’m coming,” she called. “Hold on, Bryce. Let me get the life jacket.”

“Hurry it up!”

“Mom—”

“Safety first, that’s right!” She called out as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Miles marveled at her acting ability.

Miles had to assume she’d grabbed one of the jackets from the bench he built for Bryce and Sharon. Soon he heard her moving unsteadily across the small sailing boats tied to the dock.

He would find a way to make Clinton pay for torturing her this way.

“Momma! You gotta?—”

“Shut up!” Clinton cut off whatever advice Bryce had been trying to give.

“It’s fine, baby. Hang in there, I’m coming.”

Miles was going nuts waiting and imagining the worst.

“Toss the bag over,” Clinton demanded.

“Give me my son,” she countered.

“On three.” But Clinton didn’t count. There was only a splash followed by Molly’s scream.

Miles leapt from his hiding place just in time to see Molly jump into the water. Clinton was turning the boat. Miles caught the bright pattern of the beach bag near his feet. Where the hell was Bryce?

Before Clinton realized what was happening, Miles danced across the moored boat and jumped. He caught the gunwale and hauled himself aboard before Clinton could speed away.

But Bryce wasn’t on the small boat. Miles looked all over, there weren’t any hiding places. Twisting around, he spotted Bryce in the water. The boy clung to the life jacket, wriggling it over his head.

There was no sign of Molly.

Miles burned precious seconds struggling with Clinton. They battled for control of the boat. Impatient, he grabbed the fire extinguisher and used it like a battering ram, knocking Clinton flat. Then he dived off the stern to save Molly and Bryce.

Caldwell was poised nearby to make the takedown. Miles had more important concerns.

He powered through the water, swimming hard for the bright orange life jacket bobbing in the water.

“Bryce!”

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