Reaching the railing, I looked down. More of Warren’s security team had gathered on the third deck, probably looking for Danny. They spotted me and immediately drew their weapons.
“Stop right there!” one of them shouted.
I smiled and vaulted over the railing, dropping to the second deck.
The first explosion rocked the yacht, sending several guards stumbling. I used the distraction to break through their circle, heading for the edge of the deck. Just as I prepared to jump to the dock below, a familiar ck Maybach screeched to a halt at the pier.
Ethan Haxton burst from the car, looking up at the yacht with rm. Our eyes met, and without hesitation, I leapt from the deck.
Ethan rushed forward, catching me as Inded. The impact sent us both stumbling backward, but he kept his footing, arms wrapped tightly around me.
A second, muchrger explosion tore through the yacht behind us. Ethan instinctively shielded me, covering my body with his as debris rained down around us.
<b>“</b>Are you okay?” he demanded, scanning me for injuries.
“I’m fine,” I said, straightening up. “But we should probably move. There’s more bombs.”
Ethan’s eyes widened, and he grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the car where Connor waited behind the wheel. We dove into the backseat just as the third explosion ripped through the yacht, this one powerful enough to shatter windows in nearby buildings.
“Go!” Ethan ordered, and Connor elerated away from the pier.
Through the rear window, I watched the luxury yacht be engulfed in mes, secondary explosions continuing to tear it apart. Warren’s security team had abandoned their posts, jumping into the river to escape the inferno.
‘Jesus Christ, Connor muttered, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror.
I settled back into the leather seat, saying nothing. Ethan was staring at me, his expression unreadable.
‘Is he dead?‘ he finally asked.
“Warren Mitchell is a pile of ash,” I replied calmly.
Ethan nodded slowly. “And you couldn’t have mentioned this n to me beforehand because…?”
“Because I can do this alone.”
:
We rode in silence back to my apartment. Connor, sensing the tension, kept his eyes on the road and his mouth
shut.
In my apartment, I stepped out of the shower, wincing as I examined the bruises and scrapes covering my body. Warren had gotten in a few good hits before the poison fully took effect. Nothing serious, but enough to be annoying.
I pulled on a loose t–shirt and shorts, then padded into the living room where Ethan was pacing.
“Is that hurt?” he said immediately, gesturing to the marks visible on my arms and legs.
“I’m fine,” I replied, toweling my hair dry. “Mitchell was good, but he was slow.”
“That’s not the point,” Ethan said, frustration evident in his voice. “You went after a professional killer without backup.”
“I had backup,” I countered. “You were there exactly when I needed you to be.”
Ethan ran a hand through his hair, messing up his usually perfect style. “That’s not–God, you’re impossible.”
I tilted my head, amused by his outburst. “You know, you might want to try some cold water to calm down, Mr.
Haxton.”
(91)
Ethan stared at me for a long moment, then abruptly stripped off his suit jacket and stormed into the bathroom. I heard the water running and smiled to myself.
I followed him and found him frantically sshing cold water on his face. I leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment before stepping forward and catching his hands in mine.
“That’s enough,” I said softly. “You’ll give yourself a headache.”
Ethan refused to look at me, water dripping from his face. I reached up, gently pressing my thumbs against his temples in small circr motions.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
“Pressure points,” I exined. “Helps release dopamine. Makes you feel better.”
I continued the gentle massage, feeling the tension gradually leave his body. After a few minutes, Ethan sighed and finally met my eyes.
“Sorry, I was overreacting,” he said quietly. “I was just too worried.”