The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 201

Out of nowhere, the speedboat whipped around, spraying water everywhere as it shot in front of the yacht.

There was a jarring crash. The two boats slammed together, rocking the yacht so hard everyone stumbled.

With her wrists and ankles bound, Petty slammed into a pile of life jackets. The impact sent nausea rolling through her, and the color drained from her face.

Everyone else on board sprawled out or grabbed for anything they could as the boat lurched to a stop.

Harris’s hands clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles bloody and raw as he stared at Petty through the window, his heart pounding.

Without hesitating, he let go, leapt from the speedboat to the yacht, caught the railing, and flung himself onto the deck.

A handful of men with guns stepped in front of him.

“Harris, none of us want trouble. Get out of here.”

They were out at sea, no cell service, so it was likely they’d missed any calls from his dad. Harris decided to bluff. “The deal’s done. You can go.”

Just like he’d hoped, the men all looked at each other, uncertain.

He brushed past and stepped into the cabin, scooping Petty up from the floor. “Petty!”

“Are you crazy? Were you actually trying to kill yourself?” She was still shaking, the memory of him ramming the yacht fresh in her mind. She might not be able to love Harris the way he wanted, but she’d known him almost her whole life. She never wanted to see him risk everything for her.

Whatever control Harris had been clinging to snapped all at once.

Worry etched his face, and something raw flickered in his eyes. “I didn’t even think that far.”

All that had mattered was stopping the yacht.

He only then realized he was completely soaked. He let Petty go, helped her lean against the wall, and started untying her hands and feet. He grabbed a life jacket and slipped it on her just to be safe.

“Don’t worry. I’m getting you out of here.”

A jet-black helicopter cut across the glowing light of the distant lighthouse.

Salt stung the breeze. Subtle shifts in the wind warned of something coming.

A red warning flickered over the comms. In just two hours, a violent storm would sweep through these waters with roaring wind, sleet, freezing rain, and snow. Anyone out here would be in serious danger.

Inside the helicopter, a man traded his suit jacket for something more tactical, tossed his glasses away, hearing the doctor’s caution all over again—his vision was fine now, but he was supposed to take it easy.

Franco looked down, a gun in one hand, quickly loading the magazine with the other.

The only sounds in the cabin were the thumping blades and the gentle clicks of metal against metal.

He listened to the storm warning through his headset. His face was unreadable, his sharp dark eyes locked on the eerily calm sea below.

She hadn’t even remembered to wear a scarf today.