Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)

“Mexico isn’t far,” Kaidan said.

“Nah.” Blake shook his head. “We don’t have time to mess around with the border stops. Let’s get off the mainland. Head to the port.”

Blake started scrolling through the GPS.

Kopano leaned forward. “You suggest we go to sea? We could be out there for days.”

Kaidan’s eyes rounded as he looked to Blake. “The island?”

“Yup,” Blake said with a grin.

“What island?” I asked them.

“Blake’s father owns one of the Channel Islands,” Kaidan explained. “Never uses it. Total waste.”

He owned an island? I shook my head. Wow.

“Have you been there?” I asked Kaidan.

“Once.” He got quiet and shifted in his seat. Blake burst into laughter.

“He got so seasick! Puked his guts out the whole way there.”

Kaidan reached over and smacked Blake’s head. “The water was bloody choppy!”

This made Blake laugh harder.

“For real, though. We can stay there as long as we need,” Blake said. “The whole island is a nature preserve, so there’s not much there. But it’s got one of those green-economic houses. I’ll charter a boat for us when we get to the docks.”

“But is the island far enough away from the mainland?” I asked.

“It’s fifteen miles out from Santa Barbara—even farther from here. No worries. They’ll never know we’re in the area. Think of it as a mini vacay.”

Zania slumped into my lap again as a vicious tremor shot through her. I held her while Kaidan wove through traffic, eliciting honks from surrounding cars. He stopped before the docks to buy enough food and drinks for a few days. He also bought motion-sickness bracelets and pills. Zania refused to take the offered pill or drink any water. She just moaned and curled herself smaller on the seat. I looked around at the guys, helpless, but they could only offer sympathetic glances in return.

At the port, Blake rented a luxury speedboat. More like a small yacht. I didn’t know anything about boats, but judging from the others around us, ours was big. And shiny. My hair blew in the breeze and the sun shone down as we climbed aboard. I might have felt like a rock star under better circumstances.

As Blake pushed away from the docks, I remembered Dad. I sent him a quick text saying, Melchom’s island. Then I called Patti.

“I’m going to be a few more days, and I won’t have cell service,” I told her.

“Are you okay? Did they get . . . your friend?” She wouldn’t say Z’s name.

“Yes and yes.”

“How’s she doing?”

I looked down at Z, who was lying next to me across the white-cushioned bench at the back of the boat with her head in my lap. “She’s . . . having a hard time.”

Patti sighed into the phone. “Poor thing. She needs a gentle hand right now. That’s all you can do.”

We said our good-byes and I promised to call as soon as I could. I watched from my comfy deck seat as the guys put things away and helped navigate us out to sea. The boat bumped and rocked, leading me to believe it might always be a little choppy on the Pacific. One particularly large swell turned my stomach and I closed my eyes.

I jumped at the feel of something touching my hand.

“Just me,” Kaidan said softly.

Zania slid closer to me at the sound of Kaidan’s voice. He pressed his lips together and pushed one of the motion-sickness bracelets over my hand, positioning it on my wrist.

The water and sky turned his eyes a shade of bright blue, and I let myself stare. Hair lashed against my eye, so Kaidan reached out, winding the tangled mass of strands behind my ear, then cupping my cheek.

“Do you need anything?” he whispered. I shook my head.

I caught Kopano watching us from where he stood on the raised captain’s tower. He held my eyes for a moment before turning away.

It didn’t take long for Zania to get sick. She dragged herself from my lap, sitting up and turning enough to lean over the side of the boat. I held her waist, afraid a big bump might send her overboard. I could feel her ribs protruding from all the weight she’d lost. After a bout of dry heaving, she lay her cheek on the side of the boat and I brushed her hair back, feeling tears on her skin.

“There’s a bed downstairs,” I told her. “Would you like to go lie down?”

She groaned as the wind gusted, rocking the boat. In a moment Kopano was there, scooping her up into his arms.

“No,” she protested weakly. She opened her eyes and looked at him, becoming aware. She let out a yell and tried to push him away, kicking her legs, but he held her close and murmured something in Arabic. I took her hand.

“Kope won’t hurt you,” I whispered in her ear. “He’s going to carry you downstairs and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Zania closed her eyes, crying silently, but didn’t struggle anymore.