Wet (Elemental 1) (24 page)

“Brooke,” Blake began again, more than willing to plead
with her on the subject. “Please listen to me. It’s
not safe
right now to be doing something like that. Not for any of
us. You have to reschedule.”

Brooke’s eyes widened for a minute. She released a heavy
breath and said, “We’re meeting at the beach tomorrow morning. It’s a little
too late to cancel, and I’m not making Georgia eat the expense for no reason.
You’re being paranoid.” She uncrossed her arms and turned toward the living
room, but after taking a few steps, she paused. “And for the record,
I
decide what I do and don’t
have
to do.”

Cursing his choice of words, Blake followed after her,
saying, “You know I didn’t mean it like that. And you of all people should know
I’m not just being paranoid. These people will take whatever advantage they can
get!”

Brooke spun to face him, pointing her index finger in his
direction as she argued, “Then why haven’t they burnt down the diner during one
of my shifts? I’m there all the time, it’s not hard to figure out! And you said
yourself they don’t care about bystanders or witnesses.” She dragged in a
breath, dropped her arm to her side, and said firmly, “I refuse to let these
bastards ruin my entire life. They’ll make their move or they won’t, and until
that happens, I will be able to say ‘at least I didn’t cower inside this whole
time’.” But there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes now, like she was
starting to doubt her own argument.

“No one’s asking you to cower, Brooke,” Blake tried,
fearing he’d already lost the argument. He hadn’t expected her to react quite
so angrily. He opened his mouth to say more, but Brooke beat him to it.

“And now that I’m thinking about it,” Brooke said, “if
you’re so worried about them taking advantage of us, why have they never come
after you when you’re working? That’d be just as easy as coming after me, only
you’re more their target than I am, so really you’d
still
be the bigger target.”

All good questions,
Blake admitted silently. “I don’t know the answers to those questions, Brooke,”
he said carefully. “I just know that … I have a bad feeling about Tuesday, all
right?”

Brooke locked her jaw tight as she swallowed her initial
response. Seconds ticked by before she finally took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.
I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. And I appreciate your concern, I really do.
I’m not trying to worry you. But I’m also not cancelling on Georgia. If I had
thought of it that way before she’d booked the boat, maybe I would have, but I
didn’t. I’ll keep my eyes open for anything suspicious, okay? That’s all I can
promise.”

Blake ground his teeth for a moment, not at all satisfied
with her answer. But, all the same, he knew it was the best he was going to
get. He could see her resolution in her eyes. So, finally, he nodded and said,
“Fine. I don’t like it, but short of tying you up and locking you in my
parents’ basement, I can’t stop you. Just,
please
,
be careful.”

Brooke allowed the corners of her lips to tip up. “I will.”

****

They were standing behind Blake’s Mustang the following
morning, Blake dressed for work in his lifeguard-red swim trunks, and Brooke
dressed for fun in a loose white t-shirt and denim Capri’s over her bikini.
Blake’s eyes swept over the parking lot—which was mostly empty—as he said,
“Remember—”

Brooke reached up and framed his face, cutting him off as
she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. His hands found the exposed skin
between her short shirt and her Capri’s and settled over her sides. Their
tongues met and dueled for an instant, sliding along the other sensuously
before she pulled away and smiled up at him. “I’ll be careful,” she promised
quietly.

Blake opened his mouth to respond, but a voice coming from
behind him interrupted their moment, calling, “No matter how cute you two are,
the ‘no boyfriends allowed’ rule still applies!”

The couple turned to face Georgia as she approached,
Blake’s nearest hand sliding around to the small of Brooke’s back as he lifted
his other hand to wave. “I’m wondering if I should be concerned,” Blake said
with a grin. “You’re awfully insistent on that rule.”

With a laugh, Georgia replied, “We’re hoping to pick up a
couple of mermen, and of course we can’t do that with other types of men
around!”

Brooke laughed, cutting a sideways glance up to her
boyfriend. He met her gaze with a silently laughing expression of his own.

Turning her eyes forward again as Georgia came to a stop in
front of them, Brooke said, “Good morning to you, too, Georgia.”

“That was implied,” Georgia assured them with a grin. She
turned her attention back to Blake. “And not that it isn’t great to see you,
but your girlfriend and I have a very important date to keep. So I need to
steal her now.”

Chuckling, Blake turned toward Brooke one more time and
pressed his lips to her forehead. When he pulled back, slowly retrieving his
hand as well, he said softly, “Have fun.”

Brooke smiled. “We will. And I’ll see you when we get
back.”

Their gazes held a moment longer, his eyes silently
reminding her of the need for her to be careful. She offered him another smile,
this one promising to do exactly that, and a heartbeat later, Georgia had
hooked her arm around Brooke’s elbow and begun walking.

“We’re off to talk about you behind your back! But I’ll
return her in one piece, promise!” Georgia called without looking back.

Brooke laughed, waving over her shoulder at Blake as she
followed the eager, freshly dyed redhead.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“This is your boat,” the rental-place employee stated as
they approached the boat farthest out on the dock. It was a simple speedboat,
like all of the other rental options, with a dark-green-and-ivory paint scheme.
He turned and held the keys out for Georgia to take. “You said you don’t need a
driver?”

Georgia accepted the keys as she shook her head. “Oh, no. I
rent boats all the time. I know what I’m doing.”

He nodded again and turned to head back towards the shop.
“Emergency frequencies are taped to the dash beside the radio. Otherwise, the
boat’s due back by four o’clock. Enjoy your trip.”

Brooke’s gaze followed him for a minute before she looked
back to Georgia. “You
do
know what
you’re doing, right?”

Georgia scoffed and put loosely fisted hands on her hips.
“Of course I do. I really do rent boats from this place a lot. I’ve been coming
here since I was a kid.”

“Okay, then,” Brooke replied, accepting her answer. It was
understandable, after all. She would certainly have been renting boats for
years had she grown up near any large body of water.

“Okay,” Georgia declared, turning and putting her back to
the boat. “My car’s in the rental lot, so I left the ice chest with the food
and everything in it while I waited for you. All we have to do is go get it,
bring it back, and we’re good to go!”

True excitement began bubbling up inside Brooke as her gaze
flicked back to the boat.
We’re really
getting to do this,
her mind whispered. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel
overly excited about it before, because in the back of her mind she’d believed
that something would come up last-minute to make her cancel. And she was glad
she’d been wrong. She really felt like she needed a few hours of strict
girl-time.

Georgia was two full feet ahead of her as they made their
way back down the dock, toward the small parking lot that was designated
specifically for boat-renters. “When we get out there,” she called over her
shoulder as her feet landed in sand, “we’re going to talk about you and Blake.”

“Don’t we do that practically every day?” Brooke asked with
a laugh as she stepped off the dock after her.

“Yeah,” Georgia allowed, “but we only get little snippets
of conversation at work. And I really don’t see you very often outside of work.
This will give us a good opportunity to really talk! I need details, you know!”

Brooke laughed again even as she countered, “Do I get
details about you?”

Georgia turned to throw a deliberate wink back at Brooke
over her shoulder as she approached a large rock formation. “Absolutely! In
fact, I intend—”

She was cut off as a fist came flying out from behind the
rocks, catching her straight in the cheek and sending her head spinning around
as far as it would allow. Georgia crumbled, crashing unceremoniously to the
ground.

“Georgia!” Brooke cried in horrified shock as she watched.
She instinctively sprinted forward in an effort to catch her fallen friend, but
she didn’t make it in time. “Georgia!” she called again as she dropped to her
knees beside her friend, on the other side of the unconscious woman from the
rocks.

Brooke’s head snapped up again as she registered the sound
of movement, and she found herself staring into the dark eyes of the Mystery
Man.
Idiot!
Brooke berated herself as
a dozen different reactions tore through her.
You should have cancelled!
But she hadn’t, and now Georgia had
gotten hurt.

Mystery Man altered course, clearly intending to walk
around the unconscious redhead.

“Stay back!” Brooke demanded automatically, her hands
hovering over Georgia’s nearest shoulder. Her eyes staying locked on her enemy.

The man scowled at her as if he were irritated, but his
feet paused anyway. And then he opened his mouth, addressing her for the second
time. “Brooke Munroe, come with me.”

“Not a chance,” Brooke retorted, not moving. “You stay away
from me, or I’ll scream. The shop isn’t that far behind us, they’ll hear me.”

His scowl turned into a sneer. “And if they come to
investigate, they’ll die. Alongside your friend. Or you could cooperate.”

“What do you want with me?” Brooke asked, immediately
switching to another topic. If he really didn’t care how many people got
dragged into this situation, then it was best to avoid bringing them in.

His eyes narrowed, and his feet started forward again.
“You’re a means to an end, nothing more.”

“I can’t do anything for you,” Brooke insisted as he
slowly, casually, walked around Georgia’s head.
Too close,
her mind warned her. Reluctantly, Brooke shifted and
scrambled backwards, away from him. When she was far enough, she pushed back to
her feet, all the while keeping her eyes on him.

“You can,” Mystery Man argued, his tone indifferent, “indirectly.”

“Whatever it is that you’re planning,” Brooke began, taking
a step backwards as he continued towards her, “it’ll never work. Even if you
kill me, they’ll figure you out and stop you. You and that other guy.”

The man’s lips curved up in a faint, dark smirk. “Your
threats might sound a bit more cultured if you actually had the information
necessary to issue them.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry,” Brooke snapped, taking another
step backwards. “You haven’t exactly introduced yourselves. And by the way, was
it you or him who burned down my apartment?”

A flicker of pride lit up his eyes for an instant, and the
man replied, “That was Father. But it was me who attacked you before.” He
continued forward as he spoke, his pace ever casual, as if he had all the time
in the world.

So the old guy’s his
father?
It wasn’t exactly a revelation, but even a confirmation of their
suspicions was something to be grateful for. Or it would be, as soon as she was
able to feel anything beyond fear. At the moment, all she could feel was the
cold, unshakeable grip of terror around her heart and the squeezing grasp of
panic on her lungs. She could barely swallow past the lump in her throat.

Without thinking, Brooke said, “So cowardice runs in your
family, then? You wait to strike until you’re covered by shadows and hidden by
rocks. Tell me, do you do it because you know you and Daddy Dearest wouldn’t
last ten seconds against the Hawke family in a fair fight?”

His jaw tensed and his eyes darkened even more as an
expression that could only be described as fury settled on his face. “Stupid
woman,” he snarled. “You know nothing of what you speak.” As he spoke, his pace
increased.

Brooke took two stumbled steps backwards, and her heel
slammed into unforgiving rock before she could take a third. Her back met with
the same rock before she’d even registered it. Her eyes widened when she
realized that she’d let him back her into the same rock formation he’d hidden
behind a minute ago. And she saw the moment he realized that she was well and
truly trapped.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Brooke said. She cringed
inwardly at the desperation in her voice.

“You’re beginning to repeat yourself,” Mystery Man declared
as he stepped up to her. “Now, will you come willingly, or do I have to take
you by force?”

Stalling blatantly, Brooke asked, “Come where?”

Without turning or looking away, the man swept his arm
toward the dock. “To your rented boat, of course.”

Brooke’s eyes widened as a thousand scenarios raced through
her head. She couldn’t imagine why he’d want to isolate her in a boat on the
Pacific Ocean. But, whatever his reason, she knew it wasn’t one she’d like.

Only one choice,
then,
she decided as every internal organ she possessed clenched and
swirled inside of her. Chances were good it wouldn’t work, but what other
choice did she have? Dragging in a deep breath, Brooke said, “Sorry, I get
seasick.” And then she threw herself forward, angled to shove him aside. She
thrust her feet forward even as she stumbled, knowing she had only seconds to
get as far away as possible.

One of the Mystery Man’s hands shot out and grabbed on to
her t-shirt, yanking her backwards. But he wasn’t satisfied with simply
stopping her, so he shifted his pull and tossed her towards the rock.

Brooke collided with the tall rock formation, barely
managing to throw her arm up in time to protect her head. The rock tore into
the flesh on her arm, and a sharp stinging sensation pierced through her. She
cried out from the impact, too stunned to move right away.

That second was all her opponent needed to wrap his hand
around her throat and hold her in place. His touch was scorching, and Brooke
reflexively tried to recoil from him, but her head was pressed up against solid
rock. There was nowhere she could go.

“Your efforts are in vain,” Mystery Man snarled. His eyes
crackled again as he glared at her. “You will die this day, in the name of
vengeance—in the name of justice.”

Brooke leveled her best glare at him and spat, “Your
‘justice’ is pretty screwed up, asshole.”

“You say that only because of your unfortunate fate,” he
returned, his voice dark but calm once more.

“I won’t go with you,” Brooke reiterated. “And you’ll look
pretty suspicious dragging an unconscious woman to the boat dock.”

His grip on her throat tightened, and the faintest little
jolt of electricity surged through her. “I’ll risk it,” he replied plainly.

Brooke winced, trying and failing to suck in a deep breath
as her body attempted to recover from the shock.

“First things first, though,” Mystery Man declared even as
his other hand reached forward. He calmly dipped his hand into Brooke’s right
pocket, ignoring her as she attempted to struggle against him, and extracted
her phone. “This has to go.”

As he spoke, his fingers sparked and the phone lit up, but
an instant later, it made a strange, gurgled beeping sound and the lights
snapped off. Smoke immediately began wafting off of it.

Dropping the phone carelessly to their feet, he returned
his attention to Brooke and added, “Good night, Ms. Munroe.”

His grip on her throat tightened again, and she knew he was
trying to knock her out. And considering that she couldn’t get a proper breath,
he would probably succeed. But she wasn’t willing to stand there limply and
wait for it.

With one hand latched on to his, ignoring the immediate
burning, she tried to loosen his grip on her throat. She lifted her
other—injured—arm and shoved at him with all of the strength she could muster.
Pain immediately shot through her, not because of the electricity crackling all
around him, but because of her still-bleeding arm, but she did her best to push
past it.
It won’t matter if I fail,
she told herself, praying that motivation would be enough.

“Let … go!” she gasped as she struggled. She braced one
foot against the rock, ignoring the way the rough texture pushed against her
sandal, and hoped the extra leverage would get him off of her.

“Your struggle is useless,” he declared. He wasn’t budging,
and his hold on her throat wasn’t lessening. “You are weak, and injured.”

“Who,” Brooke gasped on a shallow intake of breath even as
her arm slackened against him. She was losing her strength, and her awareness.
Still, she fought to keep herself conscious as she breathlessly demanded, “Who
… are … you?”

The Mystery Man cocked an eyebrow at her nearly inaudible
inquiry. As Brooke’s eyes began to droop, her arms falling limply to her sides
and her foot sliding awkwardly back to the sand, he said, “You may call me
Jacob. I suppose you have earned that much.”

Jacob…
The name echoed
through her mind in a haze, each syllable dragging as though she could barely
remember how to pronounce it. His name was Jacob.

****

Blake was restless as he shifted again in his chair. He’d
seen what he could only assume was Brooke and Georgia’s boat heading off a
couple of minutes prior, and had quickly lost all sight of it. In theory, she
would be perfectly safe so far from shore. But something was still not sitting
well with him.

Maybe I should call
home and check on everyone else? Maybe this feeling has nothing to do with me
or Brooke?
It was possible, he supposed. And it was just as possible that
the feeling was entirely in his head.

He was jerked from his musing as his phone went off,
alerting him to an incoming text message. Sitting properly forward, he snatched
the device off the small table that also held an unopened bottle of water. He
frowned as Georgia’s name appeared on his screen and quickly opened the
message.

CAN’T TALK. BOAT
DOCK. NOW.

Knowing—whether Georgia had actually been the one to send
the text or not—that message couldn’t mean anything good, Blake immediately
moved to the ladder and dropped to the beach below his perch. He didn’t worry
about disturbing the few people who had already come out to enjoy the late
morning, but he did wave to his coworker as he passed the tower. Whatever was
going on, he didn’t want the man to follow him.

As he ran, he sent a text of his own, letting Georgia—or
whoever might have her phone—know he was one his way.

The swimming section of the beach was separated from the
boat-dock section by a chest-high outcropping of rocks that trailed up the
sand, almost reaching the parking lot. On the other side, they stretched out to
sea far enough that the jagged rocks would provide the only available footing.
However, there was a small area where the rocks didn’t meet, a fair distance up
the shore. It wasn’t wide enough for an adult to run through, but if he slowed
to a cautionary pace and turned sideways, he could fit.

He aimed for that break in the rock, knowing he was being
watched by at least one of the civilians on the beach. When he reached it, he
slowed and ducked behind the rock. The instant he was out of their sight, he
liquefied, using his control of the water to drag his trunks along with him. It
was risky, he knew, to come out as a puddle on the other side—but it was
faster.