Page 95 of When He Hunts

But Ronan and his buddy shared a long look.

Harris’s knees shook. “I don’t want to die. Look, just let me leave, please?” He wasn’t above begging. “I have a wife, too. I want to get back to her. I need to get back to her.” His heart thudded hard in his chest. “You stay here. He’ll come for you tonight. I will be long gone.”

“How do I know that if I let you leave, you won’t immediately call Marcus back and sell me out?” Ronan asked.

“Fair question.” Harris wet his lips. “I don’t suppose you’d take me at my word?”

Ronan shook his head. But he did lower his gun. Thankfully.

Harris pulled in some seriously deep breaths.

Only to see Ronan’s buddy haul out a pair of handcuffs.Oh, no.

“Afraid you’re gonna be locked up until this is all over,” the guy told him in a voice that a bear probably would use. If fucking bears could talk. “For your own safety. And ours.”

A cuff snapped against Harris’s wrist. A chill skated down his sweaty back even as he said, “I don’t think this shit is legal.”

“Do we look like cops to you?” Ronan asked.

No. “You look like trouble.”

“It was the tat, huh? You’ve seen one of those before. You knew what the tat represented.”

The other cuff snapped on his wrist. “Yeah, I’ve seen one before. It’s the whole reason I didn’t hire the guy, despite his talent. Knew he’d probably slit my throat if he got pissed at me for something.” Harris hadn’t always been living the high life. He’d done time in some hellholes, and he knew all about those distinctive, freaking snake tats.

Ronan had gone statue still. “What guy?”

Harris squinted at him. Seriously? “You talked to him on the island. When I saw your tat—hell, I figured you two were there together for a reason. I want my Monique out of that place, understand? If you’re not letting me go back to her tonight, then you get her secured.” His shoulders straightened. “I did my part. Now you do something for me. Get my wife off the island. Protect her.” She was the best thing in his life.

“What. Guy?”

It dawned on Harris that Ronan had no idea about the danger that waited on the island. So he started talking, fast.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“It’s all right.”

The low voice pushed through the darkness. Luna tried to open her eyes, but she couldn’t. They were far too heavy. Weighed down. Onlyshewasn’t weighed down. If anything, Luna felt as if she was flying.

No, not flying, being lifted up.

Worry pulsed through her, but she couldn’t quite make her body respond to the fear that filled her veins.

“We’re going on a little trip.”

She shouldn’t be going on a trip. She was supposed to be staying in the bungalow. Esme and Tyler were guarding her. She couldn’t run out and try to find Ronan. They wouldn’t let her. All she had of him—hell, it was his big watch. He’d left it on the nightstand. At some point, she’d put it on her wrist. A piece of him to keep for her memories. A melancholy act. An overly sentimental move. As she’d sipped the wine and nibbled on the chocolates, she’d felt increasingly melancholy. And increasingly sleepy.

She was still sleepy. Perhaps…too sleepy. And shouldn’t she be more alarmed that someone was carrying her?

This isn’t right.Then, with that realization…I’m not right. Something is very wrong with me.Her lashes finally fluttered. She had a quick flash of the bungalow. Esme was sprawled on the sofa, with her head tipped back. Sound asleep.

Not just asleep. Unconscious?

Tyler curled near her. His head slumped forward. He barely seemed to breathe.Washe breathing?

Fresh, sharp alarm spiked. Finally, real, bracing alarm. Luna hadn’t consumed much wine. Just a little. Had Esme even touched the wine or had she just sampled the cider? Luna couldn’t remember. They’d all nibbled on the food. The cheese. The chocolates. And…

“Too bad we can’t work together. I really did love your voice.”

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