Chapter 12

Part Two: Storm Warnings

The rain had started early in the afternoon, a light shower at first, a soft spray. Typical for Florida in the summer. But, then, also typical, the drops thickened, crowded together, and came down faster until the tiny island was being pounded. As he'd done every day since he got there, Zane Colby had made sure both the little skiff and the bowrider were secured at the dock and the tarp in place on the fast little boat. When Derek Pierce had given him the use of the cottage, he'd told him Florida was famous for summer rains. He sort of forgot to mention that they were second cousins to typhoons.

Hell, he could hardly complain. It was just what he was looking for - a rustic cottage on the water, isolated, accessible only by boat. No telephone. Spotty cell service. Not one damn fucking person to disturb his solitude. Derek called it isolation, and maybe he was right. Either way, it got him 100 percent removed from social contact of any kind, which was just what he wanted. Truth be told, he felt at one with the storm, the emotions raging with such force inside him as angry as the wind and sheets of water turning the outside into a fierce cauldron. He had to clamp down on the urge to run outside and embrace the angry weather, become one with it. Maybe then the nightmares might stop.

He pulled a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, carried it out to the porch with him, and stood watching the rain pelt the water. The curtain of water was so thick, his vision was distorted. The shoreline of Fort Myers Beach was a distant memory, and there were no boats out on the water today. The wind had come up, rippling the surface of the bay into whitecaps. Not a day to be out there, for sure. Even with the storm he found the setup peaceful, and peace was exactly what he sought. Anxiety and stress infected both major areas of his life right now, and he needed to figure out a way to deal with them if he planned to rejoin the human race.

"Take a month," his captain told him. "That's not a suggestion. That's an order."

"I'm fine," he insisted. No one had uttered the dreaded designation PTSD, but he knew they were all thinking it, at least in some form.

"You're a lot of things, but fine is definitely not one of them. Losing half your team isn't something you can get past in five minutes. Go someplace away from humanity and sort out your head and your emotions. Otherwise you won't be any good to anyone, including yourself."

He wondered if he'd ever be good for anyone ever again. Having most of his team destroyed on a recon mission over in Afghanistan left an indelible mark on you. So, did having your longtime sub stab you in the heart. In a short space of time, everything he'd depended on in his life had blown apart. For the first time, he wasn't sure he had the ability to handle things. No wonder his captain had ordered him to take downtime, no objections allowed.

The seclusion of this island was the exact situation he needed. No one to talk to, no one to jabber at him or bother him in any way. Just him, the cottage, and his unrelenting pain. After the attack in the Hindu Kush Mountains, the one thing that had kept him together was the thought of Lily and their intense D/s relationship. She knew how to please him, how to submit to him in ways that gave him more satisfaction than he'd ever dreamed of. He was even thinking about presenting her with a collar. That made her betrayal hurt so much more.

He'd thought about taking the bowrider out this morning, racing into the wind, but the rain had killed that. He had tried reading, but nothing held his attention. So here he was, at ten in the morning, drinking a beer and watching a summer rain build into a summer storm. He probably shouldn't be standing out here on the porch, surrounded by moisture. It made the scar on his leg, a souvenir from shrapnel removal, ache like a son of a bitch. Most times, he embraced the pain, however, a reminder of his friends he'd lost, friends who were like brothers to him.

Derek had offered to get him a guest pass at the Playroom, the upscale BDSM club he belonged to, but he was afraid he'd see Lily's face on every sub and spiral out of control. No, isolation was the best situation for him if he wanted to get his shit together. If that was even possible.

He seemed unable to get off the dime, to move forward. He stood there at the edge of the storm, a tall, lean, well-muscled man with stormy grey eyes and close-cropped black hair. A scar running from his cheekbone to his jawline enhanced the dangerous look of him. An observer would say he looked like a tragic warrior and he figured that wasn't too far from wrong. He had no idea how he was going to pick up the pieces of his life.

He was just about to step back inside when the heavy rain eased for a moment, allowing him to spot something out on the rough water. He blinked, sure his eyes were deceiving him. Maybe that was what came of drinking beer in the morning. He knew Derek had a set of binoculars in the cottage so he dug around in a hurry until he found them. Back on the porch, he put them to his eyes, adjusting the focus - and swore.

Motherfuckingsonofabitch.

Someone was out there in the bay in a little skiff, trying to get to shore. In point of fact, whoever it was appeared to have lost one of the oars and was struggling against the elements to make headway. He couldn't tell that much about the person except the figure was small and wet. Who in hell was crazy enough to let their kid out in this weather? Wherever they were, if Zane got hold of them, he'd wring their necks. While he'd love to leave them out there, he didn't want to be responsible for anyone else's death. But fuck. There went his precious solitude.

Still swearing a steady stream, he pulled on boots, rain slicker, and head gear and headed down to the little dock. It took him a while to get the bowrider uncovered and power it up. He hated exposing the beautiful interior of the boat to the elements, but the skiff would be useless in this storm. He couldn't in good conscience let some kid drown out there because his or her family was brainless enough to let them out alone in this kind of weather.

As soon as he was away from the dock, he cranked up the throttle and headed for the floundering rowboat. The rain pounded on him, dripping off his rain cap into his face, but he kept himself focused on his target. When he was close enough, he throttled back and steered close to the rowboat. The person wrestling with the boat sat on one of the seats, waving at him and yelling something, impossible to hear over the storm. As he maneuvered alongside and got a good look at the person, shock raced through his system. This wasn't a kid, it was a girl. No, a woman. Very definitely a woman, a fact made obvious by the way her thin T-shirt and white shorts plastered against her body. Her breasts wouldn't have been any more obvious if she was standing there stark naked.

What the fuck was she doing out here, alone, in this weather?

Maneuvering the boat on the choppy waters while fighting the wind and rain was not the easiest thing he'd ever done. He also had to be careful he didn't knock the rowboat and cause it to capsize. He managed to finesse it so he could idle next to the floundering boat and pulled up on the side closest to where she sat.

"Come on," he shouted. "Get in."

For a moment, she just stared at him, and he was afraid she was too nervous to move. Then she eased herself as close to him as she could, pushed herself up and reached out to him. Ignoring any niceties, he yanked and tumbled her into the bowrider, pushing the throttle forward as soon as she was all in.

Heading back to the island, he was driving right into the rain, and it felt like a thousand wet knives on his skin. He looked at his passenger, huddled low in the boat, hugging herself and shivering. And kicked himself for not bringing something to wrap around her. He'd just have to get her into a hot shower the minute they were back in the cottage.

No, Zane. Send her into the shower, not get her in. Or take her in. Pay attention.

The ride was choppy and chilling, but at last he pulled up to the dock, cut the motor, and jumped out to tie off the boat. He reached a hand down to help his passenger out.

"Go on inside," he told her." It's open." When she didn't move, he scowled. "Don't worry, you'll be safe. I'm off women for the duration."