Golden Burn (Songs of Crime #1)

39. Odin

39

Odin

‘Taste Like Metal’ - Jean Dawson

I didn’t get on the boat that left after Etta. Some fucking lunatic hurled himself into the ocean and I had to watch as the crewman tried to throw him a buoy.

I get on the last rescue boat, my fury on a knife’s edge. Every mile between Etta and me is my own personal nightmare.

On the way across the ocean, I call Dom and Ford. There’s something not right about the event. A ferry’s engine almost exploding is not a common occurrence.

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m always thinking about the worst-case scenario, but I can’t help wondering if it was done on purpose. A ploy meant to separate Etta and I.

“I understand your fears, but I think this is just a coincidence,” Dom says when I relay my thoughts. “Ford and I will be at the port in two minutes. We’ll keep an eye out for Etta. ”

My heart stutters, the beats out of sync. It’s fucking killing me not having her by my side, not knowing if she’s safe and warm.

God fucking damn it.

I should have told her I loved her. I should have said the words.

But I didn’t want to. I wanted to show her. I wanted to get the date of the morning we woke up as husband and wife tattooed on my wrist. I wanted to get down on my knees and beg her to forgive me for the way I acted when we first met. I wanted to thank her for loving me back to life.

Stop.

Stop thinking she’s dead.

What happened to Gen will not happen to Etta.

The journey into the port of Mykonos is one slow, painful second after the other. I’m bursting out of my skin by the time I step foot on solid ground, my nervous system at boiling point.

Instantly, I’m scanning the crowd.

There’s medical personnel, police vehicles and a whole swarm of onlookers and families comforting their loved ones.

My wife is nowhere in sight.

I keep searching, grabbing strangers with short black hair and spinning them around. The combination of bright flashing lights and the deep dark sky is ruining my sight. My teeth grind so hard in my jaw they go numb as the minutes stretch on and Etta still remains missing.

Dom finds me first. I almost lose it when Ford strides over alone a second later.

Where is she?

“Etta?” I call, not caring that I’m shouting in people’s ears, looking like a maniac. “Etta!”

Dom and Ford join me in calling out my wifes name.

I’m fucking livid. Practically pulling out my hair when my call keeps coming back silent.

A void opens up in my chest. I can’t breathe.

“She’s gone,” I say, my voice cracking.

“We haven’t checked the hospital yet,” Dom says. “She might be waiting with the woman you mentioned.”

“He’s taken her.”

Ford flicks his head to me, his brow crinkled in doubt. “What? Cerbera did this? No, no fucking way. You can’t know that.”

Up ahead, I spot the woman with the children being attended to by a paramedic.

I rush to her, my legs propelling me across the gap. Ford and Dom are close on my heels.

The woman’s eyes widen when I reach her. She flings her arms out to protect her children. Doesn’t she remember I was the man that helped her? I must look so frenzied, so crazed that she doesn’t recognize me.

“Where is she?” I ask. No, I beg.

The woman shakes her head. “She knew the driver. I saw them together.”

“Knew the driver of the boat?” Ford repeats.

“What did he look like?” I demand.

“I—I don’t know.”

I grab her shoulders. “Think harder!”

Dom intervenes, pushing me away. “She’s injured, Odin. Just back off.”

“Fuck!” I roar.

One of the crew strides past me. I grab his shoulder and hurl him toward me.

“Who was driving the rescue boats? ”

He immediately starts jerking. “Bro. What the fuck. Let me go.”

I grab the gun from behind my back, the one I always bring with me when Etta and I are in public. I press it to his abdomen. “Tell me right now.” He peers down at the weapon I’ve got pointed at his belly. His face pales, eyes widening to saucers. As long as he answers me, he can vomit all he wants.

“Ah—ah. Terry, Ricko, Jeremy and the new guy. I don’t know his name. Today was his first shift. I didn’t even speak to him.”

“What did he look like?”

He closes his eyes, trying to remember. “Big guy. Black hair. He had a birthmark, no—a scar on his neck. Something bad. Black eyes. Mean looking. Terry said he was a bit of an asshole—”

I toss him aside, my mind reeling. Dom mutters apologies to the man while Ford comes to my side.

It can’t be real.

It can’t be real.

Cerbera has taken Etta.

“You were right,” Ford says, his voice completely flat. Dejected.

I want to collapse to my knees.

Etta. Etta. Etta.

It’s happening again. My wife is in danger, and it’s all because of me.

Etta’s been missing for seven hours. Every second without her is harder than the last. I’m so close to setting fire to my skin in the hopes that the pain of the burn will dull the pain of imagining what Cerbera is doing to her.

Dom, Ford, and I are currently out at sea, hunkering down on the yacht Etta and I took to get to the island. I can’t go anywhere near the lounge where she fell asleep in my arms, wrapped in my suit jacket and her wedding dress. If I do, I’ll lose it.

We know for sure Cerbera took Etta. One eye witness remembered seeing a woman with short black hair slumped in a man’s arms. It appeared as though she had fainted and he was helping her, but he was wearing the crew’s uniform, so they didn’t question it.

Thankfully, Ford had been the one to find that piece of information. If it had been me, I would have crushed their necks for letting Etta out of their sight.

The camera footage from the night is so blurry it would take weeks to come through it all piece by piece. Dom is trying, anyway. But when all of our searching, questioning, hacking seem pointless, I decide we have to seek outside help.

“This isn’t a good time,” Martin says by way of answering my call.

“Neither was talking to me on my wedding day and calling me on my honeymoon, yet you did it, anyway.”

“Look, I can’t talk for long. I’ve been flagged. I need to lie low.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Cerbera has Etta, he’s taken her,” I say, my patience non-existent.

Martin sighs heavily. “I know.”

“You piece of shit,” I growl. “Tell me where she is.”

“I can’t give you the location because we are on the move. I’ll give you the boat’s identification number and you can track us from there.”

“Us? You’re with him?” I roar.

Martin’s phone begins to crackle like he’s moving somewhere else. “Calm your shit, Bolt. Yes, I’m with him. I have been for two fucking years. But he knows something is up with me. He’s been testing me. ”

“What does he want?”

“He wants you dead. Simple as that. He knows you were never going to let him live.”

My fingers grip the phone, my blood boiling. “How could he know that? I’ve only ever threatened his business, never his life.”

“Because I told him. It was either give him a piece of information or let him kill me.”

My voice turns deadly. “So it’s your fault.”

“It’s no one’s fault, Bolt. It’s just how the game is played.” He moves again, the connection worsening. “I’ll keep Etta safe until you get here. I swear it.”

“If you don’t. I’ll kill both of you.”

“Roger that.” He hangs up the phone.

Ford approaches, already strapping on his bulletproof vest. “So, when do we leave?”

A text comes through from Martin’s phone. A tracking number for the boat they’re holding Etta on. I give it to Dom. His fingers fly across the keyboard, the satellite sending back coordinates in record time. “She’s less than four hours away. We can get there faster if the weather is in our favor.”

Ford watches Dom type. “We can’t approach during daylight hours.”

“Agreed,” I nod. “We’ll strike at midnight.”

If Cerbera wants to steal Etta using distraction and shadows as his cover. Then I’ll slit his throat with only the moon as my guide.

I send out a prayer to Etta and hope she can hear me.

I’m coming, sweetheart.