Blood, Ash, and Bone

CHAPTER Forty

Boone’s place lay on a peninsula between Talahi and Whitemarsh Islands, at the end of a winding path that looked nothing like a driveway and everything like a dent in the underbrush. But the road was true, and it had only one destination once you were on it. The cat briars tangled thick at the edges, every foot I drove taking me deeper and deeper into the untamed.

The rain came down harder, and the wind rose with it, thrashing the slender branches of the water oaks into a frenzy. I clutched the wheel, barely able to see six feet in front of me. Finally, I rounded the first curve and saw the dock stretching into the water. Another curve and the house came into view, a two-story Lowcountry, built on pilings so that the underneath was open to the marsh. Unlike most such houses, however, Boone’s was surrounded by a high stone gate with razor wire along the top.

I drove the Camaro right up to it, got out, and banged on the doors with my fist. “Boone! Let me in!”

The security camera to my right swiveled back and forth. I stood under it and looked directly into the lens. “I swear I will stand here screaming until someone opens this gate!”

The side door opened, and Jefferson stood there. “Goddamn it, Tai, what—”

“I need to see Boone.”

“It’s too late, he—”

“Now!”

Jefferson pulled out his phone and turned away from me. A hushed conversation ensued, then he held the door open. “Hurry up. Leave your weapons here.”

“No.” I pulled Trey’s jacket tighter around me. “I’m family. I keep my gun. Now let me see him.”

***

Jefferson took me through the house to Boone, who was sitting on his back porch, watching the storm roll in over the marsh. The interior was low-lit, but I caught the details—the IV pole next to the armchair, the rows of medicine bottles on the kitchen sink—and I knew like a punch in the gut why he didn’t receive visitors anymore.

He was stretched out on a wooden lounge chair, a blanket at his feet. An oxygen tank stood sentry beside him, and although he wasn’t using it, I could still see the indentations against his nose where the clip had been. He looked yellow-gray in the dim porch light. In the shadows beyond that small illuminated circle, I saw a tall dark shape in the corner. Jasper. I ignored him and went right to Boone.

“They took Trey,” I said.

“They who?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I need money, and weapons, and I need them fast.”

“Slow down, girl—”

“I don’t have time for slow! Trey’s been kidnapped, and I have to get this document from Hope so that I can get him back, and to do that I need money! You have to help me!”

Jasper didn’t like any of this. He hovered in his corner of the screened porch, antsy and combustible. Jefferson maintained his position, calmer. They both looked ready to shoot me and be done with it.

Boone took the toothpick he was chewing from his mouth. “Were you followed?”

“Of course not.”

He pointed at the ottoman. “Sit down.”

“There’s no time—”

“Sit!”

I glared at him, not sitting.

He swore softly. “I need you calm, girl, because right now, you’re just meanness talking. You wanna hurt these people, I can see it in your eyes, and I can’t work with that. So sit.”

“Boone!”

“This is the place where we commit. And we’d better get that part goddamn right because we don’t get another chance. Now sit!”

I sat, unable to fight the tears any longer. “They’re cops. The ones who took him. That’s all I know.”

Boone blew out a breath. “Shit.”

He swung his legs to the side, his face clean of all emotion. I knew the look. I’d seen it on Trey, when he’d close his eyes and count to three and then open them with that look, as fathomless and impassive as the ocean.

I met it head on. Sink or swim.

“Tell me what happened,” Boone said, “start to finish.”

I did. He listened. I tried to include the details he needed, leave out the ones he didn’t.

I wiped my eyes. “That’s all I know. Hope’s going to meet me in the alley behind the tattoo shop in one hour. I’ll get the document, give her the money, and then the kidnappers will call back with the location to make the trade.”

“Tai—”

“Don’t argue with me, I can do this. It’s a swap, one-two, that’s all. I’m not scared.”

“Ain’t about scared or not scared. Look at me.”

I did. His voice stayed steady.

“I need you to listen, and listen good. This ain’t a ransom, probably never was. There won’t be any trade. You show up planning on that, and he’s already a dead man, you hear me?” He took me by the shoulders. “They’ll kill you too, on the spot. That’s why they want you to come. Because it’s a trap.”

Tears pricked my eyes again, blurring the swaying palmettos, the porch light. “No.” I shook my head. “No, that’s not—”

“Look at me, Tai. Don’t quit on me.” Boone took my hands in his. “Tell me true, girl. Are you willing to do whatever it takes?”

I raised my eyes to his. “I would burn down the world for that man.”

He squeezed my fingers, and I felt it swell in me, the deep power of saying yes to whatever it takes. I squeezed back. His grip was still strong, and it sealed a pact as solid as any ever made at any midnight crossroad.

I took a deep breath, blinked the last of the tears away. “Okay. What do I do?”

He stood. “Whatever I tell you to.”

He motioned for Jefferson and Jasper, and they met him in the corner. They talked, their voices low and urgent. I watched, numb. My hands were cold and wet. I resisted the urge to wipe them on my jeans. I resisted the urge to scream. Boone motioned me over, and I went to his side.

“Jasper will take you to the dockhouse,” he said. “You go inside, lock the door, and stay there. That leaves you alone, which I don’t like, but I need all hands on deck. He’ll leave the boat keys with you. Take it if you need it, but if it comes down to that, get the hell away and don’t come back to the house, got it?”

I nodded.

“And you stay there until I come get you myself, understand?”

“But…” I gestured toward the ankle cuff.

“Jefferson can cut it off in five minutes, but not until it’s time. No sense letting them know what’s up until we have to.” Boone touched the side of my face. “I’ll come for you myself, or I won’t be coming at all, you hear me?”

I nodded. I could feel the beginning of tears again. If I let them, they’d ambush me. But I wasn’t giving them an inch.

Boone moved closer. Something young and vital sparked in him despite the pallor and shortness of breath. His eyes gleamed bright like the mouth of a spring.

“I won’t come back without him,” he said. “One way or another. I promise.”

I stared at him, this killer and thief and smuggler, the raw-boned rebel, this man who was my kith and kin, all the history I’d tried to whitewash. Who was fighting for me. Who was showing up.

“Whatever it takes,” I said. I didn’t recognize my voice. But I knew it was me talking.