Page 106 of Intent to Kill
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MAY 1991
Under the cover of night, the powerboat held still in the water, not a wave or a breeze to sway it. The usually turquoise waters were a deep midnight blue, and the only light was that of the shining full moon.
Mercedes stood looking out onto the ocean. At the world that existed away from the shores of the city. From the life that she felt trapped in. Trapped as she was, though, she’d never wanted to plot against Dorian. Miserable and safe was a step above dead.
But somewhere along the line that had changed. The more time she spent with Adam, in the company of her old friends, the less she gave a shit about playing safe. She couldn’t be Dorian Blake’s wife. She couldn’t be First Lady of Ridge City. So she couldn’t afford to lose again, because if she had to live this false life for the rest of hers, she wouldn’t survive it.
“Help me with this,” Adam said, jumping on the powerboat and wiping sweat from his brow. Far off the coast, Adam and Mercedes, with the help of their new crew of exiles and outcasts, had driven their powerboat, a prized Blake yacht, and eleven dead bodies into the night for disposal.
Dorian Blake’s favorite yacht was currently loaded with those eleven bloody bodies, one being Antonio’s lifeless form.
Adam handed her a match as the powerboats transporting their people drove away into the night. “You do the left side.”
“Are you sure this will work?”
Adam just shrugged. Typical. Her lips threatened a smile that she held back.
On the count of three, they lit their matches and threw them up onto the highest levels they could reach. The flames followed a path of gasoline throughout the yacht, igniting in a roaring fire.
It was like a display of fireworks, the flames creating a burning light show, a glow of heat that provided the kind of warm flicker found in a wood fire.
Now wearing Adam’s jacket, she pulled it tight across her shoulders. The silence was not uncomfortable, but familiar, as they stood together admiring the burning vessel.
“You ready to go?” Adam said.
“No,” Mercedes smiled. “Let’s stay a while and watch it burn.” They had at least an hour before the flames would be spotted off the coast, anyway.
She heaped herself into the built-in seat at the back of the powerboat and tucked her legs in underneath her.
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Adam disappeared briefly, leaving only the sound of rifling through cupboards before he returned with a bottle of scotch and two glasses.
“Goddamn, you’re good,” Mercedes said, returning his lazy grin.
Their fingers brushed when she took her glass and let him pour her a drink. He served an identical one for himself and joined her on the seat, focusing on the show in front as if it were a romantic fire in the depth of winter, and not an engulfed effigy of their recent sins.
“It’s late, you don’t have to be going back to the husband-to-be?” Adam said. Mercedes’s lip twitched in interest. What a topic for him to lead off with. But his voice was flustered and his eyes weary, and despite how hard she pushed him away, he kept coming back swinging. Despite how cold she wanted her heart to be, for him it always warmed.
“Dorian doesn’t spend a lot of time around me these days,” Mercedes said, taking a swig of her drink.
Adam stared into his lap, but the corners of his mouth tightened, like he was trying to suppress a smile.
“You like that?”
“Well...” He was doing a terrible job of hiding his grin. “It’s not terrible to hear.”
“Jealous?”
“Of the person who has you? Always.”
She dropped her eyes to her glass and swirled it before taking another sip. “He doesn’t have me,” she said. “And, come to think of it, I never had him.”
“Yeah?” Adam said, leaning forward. Always trying to get closer to her, did he think she didn’t notice? “How’s that?”
“Tonight, for example. Wednesday, so that means he’d be down at pole position with...” she squinted as she made her guess. “...Bridget? And tomorrow, Thursday. That’s a Kelly night.”
“You’re just one of his many girlfriends?” He gave her an incredulous look.
