Page 36 of Beachcomber Enemy

He turned left and jogged down the road at as fast a clip as his forty-year-old bad knee would let him. But he had the advantage in spite of Shana’s relative youth and enraged determination. He knew the island like he knew his own balls. And he had the determination of desperation.

The church was only a mile from Cap’s place, so it was only a matter of a few minutes before they’d reach it. Dane prayed like he never had in his life that Cap already had Whitey in custody by the time they got there. But he wasn’t waiting to find out. He slipped his phone from his pocket and called Cap.

“What’s the status?”

“Why are you out of breath? What’s wrong?”

“She’s on the run and headed your way.”

“Shit. No sign of Whitey yet. Eulogy is in ten minutes.”

“Don’t wait. Do it now. Whitey will come out from his corner for that.” He paused a beat while he squeezed through some bushes to cut through a yard. Old Mrs. Pearl wouldn’t mind. He’d been helping her with groceries for years. “I hope you’re wearing Kevlar.”

“Don’t worry about me. We’re expecting him to be armed. You just make sure you catch up with Shana before she gets here.”

Dane didn’t bother with goodbyes. He shut the phone down and slipped it back into his pocket. Then, checking his watch, he took off in an adrenaline-inspired sprint. After he emerged from Mrs. Pearl’s yard at a stampeding pace he ran for three more blocks, then he spotted her. They weren’t far from the church and he needed to catch her before she turned the corner where the church was, where Whitey Nash would be. The horror of the notion that Whitey might spot her if he was in the area sizzled through him as he turned up the pace of his sprint. Lasering in on her back as she ran, he closed in on her as they reached the home two doors from the corner.

She turned and saw him. He was close enough to see the emotions thundering through her expression. The hate stood prominent. His fiancée, his beloved Shana, despised him. And he couldn’t blame her one single bit.

The turn cost her a beat too many and even though she tried with a spurt of speed to escape him, Dane caught her. He tackled her to the ground and rolled with her into the bushes. Knowing she had at least one knife on her, he pinned her hands over her head and held her down with his body. He only hoped that she didn’t spit in his face.

She gasped for breath and so did he as he lay on top of her.

“Get off of me you damn son of a—” “

“Shana. Stop. It’s okay. I get it. We’ll get to the church.” He paused and bore his gaze into hers. “Together.”

Tears popped into her eyes and the sob that wrenched from her throat made him close his eyes in excruciating pain. To hear it damn near made him cry.

“Shana, please. I’m sorry. I-I needed to protect you—”

“And now? You don’t need to protect me anymore, you big hero, you asshole, you—”

“Stop. I’ll always need to protect you. But I need to,” this was hard for him as he envisioned the sliced-up, grotesque face of Whitey Nash, “I need to trust you, to respect you and to let you protect yourself. Because I know you’re not helpless. I want to go into that church side by side.” And if anything happened to her, he may as well be a dead man because he’d never forgive himself.

“Why, Dane?” she whispered. She’d stopped crying.

“Because you’re afraid of Whitey. I saw it. That made me afraid for you. Hell. It made me more afraid of anything than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“We have to get him, Dane. Get off me so we can get him.”

He took a long look at her, staring deep into her eyes. The hate was in abeyance, the anger slowed to a simmer. It wasn’t gone. But she was giving him a chance.

For now.

“Don’t worry,” he said as he let go of her wrists and pushed himself up off her. “Cap told me he wasn’t there yet.”

As they both got to their feet, Dane’s phone rang. It was Cap. She crowded him so she could hear as he slipped it out and answered it.

“Give me the status,” Dane said.

“Nash just walked in. Alone.”

Shana breathed hard and he automatically put an arm around mer. She jerked away from him as if he were a poisonous snake.

“Any weapons?”

“Hard to tell. But according to surveillance he left the house an hour and a half ago. No telling where he went and what he did with all that time. We had someone on him, but only one guy. He lost Whitey downtown. We would have had back up if you hadn’t—”