Devil's Advocate: A Dark Mafia Romance (Devil's Playground Book 1) by Vivi Paige (different ereaders .TXT) 📗

for the impending wave. I kept my tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth so I wouldn’t bite it again.

We slammed down on the other side only to hit another swell immediately. I spent a few moments bouncing crazily, trying to hold on to my seat until we got to a slightly calmer section of water.

“You all right?” Indro shouted above the din.

“I’m fine.”

“What have we got in the locker? I don’t suppose there’s any guns.”

“No,” I grimaced. “Not even a spear gun.” I dragged out a plastic bag and unzipped it, finding wetsuits inside.

“Scuba gear, I think, but there’s no tank.”

Indro glanced over at the wetsuits. I could see his dark eyes growing narrow and crafty.

“I’ve got an idea.”

“I hope it’s to turn around and head for shore.”

“They’d be on us in a second if I let off the throttle enough to make the turn.” Indro jutted his chin toward the wetsuits. “How many are there?”

“Two.”

“Perfect. Put one of them on.”

“Now?” I gasped. Then we hit another wave. I slammed into the side of the boat, barely clinging to the rail.

“Yes, now. I’ve got a plan.”

I had a sinking feeling—no pun intended—that we were going into the water sooner rather than later. Confused by his command, yet too afraid to argue, I slipped out of my skirt and blazer and struggled into the wetsuit. It was difficult, trying to manage this while bouncing around over every swell.

I finally zipped it up and struggled back to my seat. “Now what?”

“Now, you take the wheel.”

“What?” I gaped. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

Indro grinned. “Always.”

He tapped the dashboard. “See this? It’s the throttle. Keep it wide open. Point the nose directly at the waves and hang on tight.”

“What are you going to do?”

A look of disgust twisted his features. “I’m going to throw away a God damn Armani suit.”

I clambered awkwardly under his arms and took over the wheel and throttle. Indro scrambled out of the seat so I could take his place. The wheel rattled terribly in my hands, making it difficult to hang onto. Indro doffed his coat and began putting on the wetsuit.

I cringed as my first swell approached. I held on tightly and tried to keep the wheel steady. We hit it and I think I screamed, though my throat had long since become raw.

We slammed down on the other side, my pulse throbbing in my ears. I’d done it! Confidence surged in me. I even felt a bit of a thrill, racing along the storm-tossed lake.

“All right, Sophie, switch with me again.”

Indro appeared, looking hot as hell in the tight wetsuit. I couldn’t keep myself from checking out the bulge between his legs. The suit conformed to the smooth contours of his muscular physique in a pleasing way.

“Stop staring at my dick, you goof, and get out of my seat!”

I scrambled out and into the opposite seat just in time for us to hit another wave.

“Why did we have to put on the suits?”

“Because the water is freezing, and the suits should—hopefully—keep us from freezing to death. Hang on tight, this is going to be rough.”

It had already been plenty rough in my estimation, but I clung to my seat for dear life. I screamed as he banked the boat sharply to the right, surfing along the edge of a wave and turning us back toward the pursuing craft.

“What are you doing?”

Indro used his discarded belt to rig the throttle wide open and the steering wheel firmly in place. He tugged the leather strap to make sure it had cinched. “Give me your hand.”

He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the seat. I stared up in horror as the nose of our boat pointed directly at the pursuing Loggia craft. Their pilot realized the imminent collision and tried to turn off, but he stalled out his engines in the process.

“Now!” Indro and I leaped off the side into the frigid water. A split second later the boats collided with a tremendous crash, sending debris raining down on our heads.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Indro

The cold waters slipped over my head, cutting off light and air. Bits of debris rained down into the water as I snapped my gaze about, searching for Sophie. Panic flooded my mind. Had I doomed her to death by drowning because of my crazy scheme?

The fact the Loggia goons would definitely have killed us had I not rammed their boat didn’t even enter my mind. All I could think was my stupidity had gotten her killed.

I then realized I was in danger, too. I couldn’t tell which way was up. I fought down the panic and looked about until I spotted a bit of engine sinking past me. I swam in the direction it had come from, kicking my legs like nobody’s business.

I never was much for being in the water, but I knew how to swim—barely. I remembered one time when Don Maloik had sent me down to Miami after a snitch what had entered the witness protection program.

I’d found him easily enough, tending bar in one of those glorified tiki huts along the beach. Offing him had presented little difficulty. I waited until he headed into the stinky bathroom and made my move. I kicked open the door, came up on him with a silenced .22 and pumped three rounds into his chest before he even had a chance to scream. Then I turned and calmly walked away. Nobody even noticed he was a goner for half an hour after he failed to return from his bathroom break.

After that, I figured what the hell? I’d try taking a dip in the ocean. A lot of the waves were pretty big, as it was high tide at the time, bigger than the waves rippling Lake Michigan.

Here’s the thing, though. The Atlantic Ocean is salt water, and it’s a lot easier to stay afloat in salt water. Maybe you did that experiment with the egg and the glass of water when