Page 15 of Stone
Lanai, Hawaii
Stone
The waves were bitchin’ today.
I laughed at myself as I headed away from the ocean water, my surfboard nestled under my arm. There wasn’t a surfer dude left alive who used the phrase, but my sentiment was the truth. The conditions had been perfect, the early morning presenting a golden halo of sun, the winds light and calm, and the waves bitchin’ clean.
As I moved up the slight sandy knoll toward the house, I stopped long enough to turn and bask in the beauty of the island and the gorgeous day. Up until a few years ago, I hadn’t paid much attention to my surroundings. Other than looking out for insurgents hiding in trenches in the middle of a goddamn mud puddle.
Someone would say I was blessed to live in such a pristine environment, but I’d paid my dues, the price almost derailing my entire life. Still, I was content. As content as someone like me could be.
It was going to be a scorcher of a day, near ninety, which was hot for May. I had a single tourist run today, which would leave me time to tinker around the house.
The thought amused me. I’d never thought retiring at the ripe old age of forty-three was something I’d ever want. Sure, I continued dabbling in stocks and had a small, but profitable boat tour business, but I spent most days doing nothing more than surfing, grilling, and drinking.
And not necessarily in that order.
Speaking of which. It was time for a Bloody Mary since the boat tour was later in the afternoon. If the hangover was bad enough, I could always convince Kekoa to take the run for me. He was the damn best employee I’d ever had.
And the only one.
He was also a good friend.
I dragged the board toward the underside of the stairs leading up to the house. Just as I placed the board in the hooks, I heard a sound like a private plane flying close to the shore.
While that wasn’t unusual given the privacy and exclusivity of the island, for some reason it caught my attention. I made certain the board was secured properly and grabbed a towel, rubbing my wet hair as I headed back down the beach.
Shielding my eyes, I peered up at the sky. What the fuck?
A helicopter.
Okay, also not unusual, but…
The bird’s sudden appearance nagged at me.
I took a deep breath as the chopper came closer. The asshole pilot was disturbing my private beach, kicking up sand everywhere. I stood where I was, annoyed as fuck with whoever dared to land on my property.
And all without calling?
I rolled my eyes. Almost no one knew my phone number. I preferred it that way as I did remaining to myself. My privacy meant everything to me. Perhaps the pilot was pissed at me since he hovered over my head for a full minute before veering off to the side and landing.
My butt wasn’t moving other than to throw the towel around my neck. Whoever had desecrated my peaceful morning could come to me. I noticed the pilot, some big strapping dude who glared at me through the windshield.
A single man stepped from the helicopter and given the position of the sun, I couldn’t make out anything about him other than he was dressed like some rich asshole in a suit. He stared at the back of my house for a few seconds before turning toward me. In his hand was a briefcase. He wore sunglasses that looked like they cost more than my latest surfboard purchase. And if I had to guess, I’d say his Gucci loafers would make traipsing through the sand difficult.
Yippee.
As soon as he headed toward me, the pilot took off and I’ll be damned if the jerk didn’t do a fly-by a little too close. In reaction, I threw up my arm, giving him the middle finger.
The man continued his approach, only mildly slogged down by sand and shoes.
When he was close, my muscles stiffened. I was finally able to catch his gait as he headed toward me. I’ll be damned. I’d worked so hard to lose every aspect of my past and it had just come back to bite me like a rattlesnake.
Again.
I should have known after connecting with two of my Navy SEAL team buddies during the last several months that at some point my old commander would come calling. He was part of some big think tank, which was a nice way of saying he and his buddies were involved in doing security consulting work. I’d aided a couple of recent rescue missions, which had placed me on the radar. Damn it.
I’d just hoped the commander wouldn’t be able to find me. Hell, I’d only told Kage where I lived, although I suspected Maddox knew by now. Still, they knew better than to give up my location. I’d kick their asses. No one else from my past had a goddamn clue, yet Gray had found me.
