Rogue Wave by Isabel Jolie (reading eggs books txt) 📕

“You and Jasmine sleep. I’m going to make some calls first. Then I’ll come up.” I lied to her. I’d be up all night, on guard.

I stood in the doorway as Luna pulled back the bedspread and climbed into Jasmine’s second bed.

I blew her a kiss from the tips of my fingers, then blew one to Jasmine for good measure. It was something my mom used to do from my doorway every night. A silly action that delivered a rogue wave of emotion, choking me.

I pulled the door closed and wished for a lock. A deadbolt. Or some heavy furniture to push against it. I had so little furniture. Had kept everything so sparse.

On the second landing, I opened my bedroom door wide. I positioned the bedroom chair so I could see both the balcony and the landing. I didn’t have a gun or any way to fight anyone. With that thought, I ran downstairs and picked up the kitchen knife block and carried it back up with me to my chair.

With the chef’s knife in easy reach, I dialed my one friend with connections.

Gabe didn’t pick up. Not on the first call. Nor the second. By the fifth time I called, hanging up each time voice mail picked up, I was about to lose hope, assume he had it set to not ring at select hours.

“Tate?” Gabe answered, his voice heavy and throttled.

“I need your help.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you remember the repo guy I told you about?”

“Yeah. Let me guess. He got wind you have money.”

“He sent photos of Jasmine and Luna.”

“What’d he say?”

“Nothing. Just photos. Photos that show he’s on the island. Or his goons are.”

“No threat?”

“Nope. Just photos.”

“That’s…no threat? No demands?”

“No. But I know him. It’s a first step. He’s going to ask for something. He wants money. Can you help me access it quickly?”

“Don’t fall for scare tactics.” Shuffling sounds came through the line. “Man, I told you transferring shit out of offshore accounts might not be a smart idea.”

“I’m not running from anyone. I just…”

“Yeah. It’s what time in the morning and you’re calling me?”

“I shouldn’t have.”

“I’m up now.”

“So, what do I do?”

“I think you have to wait. Until he sends a request. Lets you know what he wants. It’s an intimidation tactic. But whatever it is, don’t worry about. We’ll get it covered. Pay him off. It’s gonna be fine.”

“But with a guy like this, what’s to say he’s not gonna come back and ask for more money later? Or what if he doesn’t even want money?” Fuck. I could go to the police. Once he did more than send me photos. Or, no… “Wait. What if I threatened to share all I know about his business? There’s sick shit going on in Asia. I can share all I know about his illegal fishing practices.”

“Does anyone really give a flying fuck about that?”

No, the answer was not really. Sure, some people tried to buy farm-raised fish and tried to make a difference, but irresponsible fishing practices rang like old news. “What about his slave ring? Indentured slaves? Slave trafficking? That would get attention, right?”

“Maybe. If you had photos. Where’s this guy based?”

“He’s American. Who the fuck knows where his businesses are legally located.”

“Send me the names of his businesses. The proper names. I’ll find country of origin. But you might be on to something. You put some heat on him, and he might decide you’re not worth messing with.”

The dark hallway beckoned.

“Or he’ll end me.”

“Shit, Tate. What have you gotten yourself messed up in?”

“He’ll probably want more than I have. That’s his MO. How he traps people.”

“Nah. I’ve had some gangbuster years. I’m not worried about paying the douche, I just don’t like recurring payments. I want one and done for you.” Keys tapped through the line. “Send me over those business names. We’ll start there. We’ll know more once he makes his demands.”

“Right.”

“Do you have a gun?”

“No.” True to my liberal roots, I hated guns. At the same time, I felt like a foolish schmuck sitting next to a wooden block of dull kitchen knives.

“I’ll try to get some to you.”

“What? I wouldn’t even know how to use them.”

“I’ll bring them down and give you a lesson.”

“Guns aren’t needed.”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot. I’ll come down this weekend. I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, stay calm. If he wants something from you, he needs you alive. Those photos were just meant to get you to take him seriously since you blew him off before. It’ll all work out.”

I sat in the chair, clutching the black handle of the chef’s knife until the hint of dawn. Luna found me asleep in the chair. She removed the knife from my grip and urged me to bed.

“No one’s coming in at five in the morning,” she told me. “My parents used to always say that anyone coming into the diner early morning were hard workers, good people. All the partiers and druggies were passed out somewhere. These early morning hours, when the sun is rising, you can relax.” She closed the wooden plantation shutters, shutting out the rays from the rising sun.

“Jasmine’s still asleep?”

She nodded. I wanted to pull her into my arms, to fall asleep holding her. But I felt better knowing she was with Jasmine. Soon, I’d have to explain to Jasmine what was going on. Unfortunately, I didn’t expect it would be too hard for her to comprehend that there were bad men in the world, and some of them might be coming for us.

Chapter 31

Luna

I woke, aware a person watched. The pinprick sensation followed along my spine, and I lay still, attempting to get my bearings. The window frame near my legs looked familiar; the wall next to my head did not. The lavender sheets hinted of fragrant fabric softener…Jasmine’s room. I stretched and rolled away from the wall. Jasmine sat straight, her back as rigid as a flagpole, and the whites of her eyes gleamed in the morning light.

“Morning,”