Chapter One

Punta Gorda, Belize

Present Day

Marguerite Bellamy Fuentes—Missy—laughed, lifted Reuben into her arms, and leaned carefully over the edge of the boat so the wake sprayed them both in the face. The breeze that swept up off the water caught the sound of her voice and wrapped it around Jamie Nash’s heart.

He throttled down so the boat slowed in the water. On a sunny day like today, people and boats filled the water. Fishing boats came and went, like clockwork—sunshine or not—but today was for the vacationers. Today was for his business—The Shack, scuba diving, fishing, and boating.

He couldn’t resent the loud raucous noise of the young party groups on their large boats. During the quieter morning moments, those same people would visit his shop, looking for something different to do, something other than drink.

No one wanted to leave Belize and go home with nothing to show for it, so they’d make their way to his shop for that excursion on the water, for pictures to post on Instagram and Facebook.

Some days, like today, a local family would come down for an outing, so he gave them a deal. Reuben was a regular down at the dock, always full of questions for Jamie. His dad wasn’t in the picture anymore. His mom worked full time to support them.

Missy laughed again, at the same time as she wrangled their young friend into her arms in order to keep him from jumping overboard, making Izaneth giggle. The older sister of Reuben was shy, still afraid of the water. Not like her little brother at all.

Jamie turned the boat quickly as one of the speed boats flew by with its crew of young people.

“Whoop!” Missy laughed behind him and took a step into the rocking of the boat.

He worked to subdue the irritation at the other boat’s carelessness.

He didn’t like the internal proof of how much he’d changed, of how old he’d gotten. But when the younger crowd circled his boat and cut across in front of him again, he scowled and picked a spot off to the west to head away from the rowdier group. Looking back at Missy, he couldn’t help but wonder if she would rather be on a boat with loud music, with young people who drank the afternoon away.

Jamie scratched at his cap of hair and set his hat back down on his head. Shit. What had happened to time?

“Ahoy!” Missy called from the stern, and when he turned to look at her, she lifted her brows in question as if to ask, what’s going on? He was distracted today.

Steering around another group of boats that had dropped anchor in order to swim, he waved back at her and began their slow meandering cruise back toward home, staying closer to shore.

It reminded him of home, in Tampa. It reminded him he wanted to marry Missy—like, yesterday would have been nice.

She held him off. She said her reluctance wasn’t because of his job. It felt like his job, like if she just kept him at arm’s length, he couldn’t hurt her if he disappeared—as her father had. But he knew her.

Tomorrow, he was leaving again on a job with Hawk Elite Security, this time for an assignment to Colombia. And lately, every time he left, a funny feeling would settle in his chest. He rolled his shoulders, taking the wheel in a turn through the waves as he sped up again, noting every detail: the position of the sun, the orange glow shining off the windows of their bungalow on the shore, the sweet scent of earth that stayed close to the shore on this southern part of Belize, and the school of sharks playing in the waves.

The other boats crisscrossed the waves beyond them. He kept an eye out for the speed boat, but it seemed to have taken off.

He loved living near the water, had grown up on the Gulf outside Tampa. It was the main reason Hawk had set him up in this remote location when he’d needed a place for their South American operations.

At a shout from Izaneth, her Mama took charge, taming the rambunctious brother.

“Missy.” He nodded out to the water, and she looked.

Sharks, just twenty meters out now.

She tapped the boy’s shoulder and lifted him up. “¿Puedes verlos?”

The little boy clapped his hands as the mother snapped pictures, and his sister hung back by the railing, gripping it with her fist. She’d been the first in her lifejacket at the dock, not wasting any time.

Jamie pointed the boat south and closed the distance, so the boy might get a glimpse of the sleek bodies beneath the surface of the water. The splash of fins made the boy laugh and the girl’s curiosity grow.

Reuben pointed. “He’s hungry, si? Because it is dinner time?”

Izaneth finally came forward, interest winning over the nerves and fear.

“Sharks will eat any time of day.” Missy slipped into teacher mode behind him, explaining when sharks ate.

Jamie checked his watch, took one last glance back on the school of sharks—he couldn’t help it, the underwater world had always fascinated him. He turned the boat toward land to end their tour of paradise.

The careless speedboat came out from the east and buzzed their position in the water. Jamie quickly turned his boat, his heart taking a solid jump. “Jesus,” he hissed when the other boat made another tight circle and came back around. He counter-turned to avoid a collision.

“Jamie, stop!” The alarm in Missy’s voice had him glancing back. Izaneth, who’d been kneeling against the railing, tumbled over the side.

“Iza!” Mama yelled.

He had the boat dead in the water an instant later, and he tossed a marker, and pulled out his flare gun, his eye on the assholes who were clueless about the damage they left in their wake.

Missy jumped over the side after the girl.

The speed boat headed back this way, making Jamie’s heart rate increase. Two in the water, and the asshole. He throttled up and moved his boat between Missy and the oncoming disaster.

“Shit.” The commotion in the water had drawn the attention of the sharks as well.

Missy pulled with strong strokes through the water to reach Izaneth, who was just twenty-five meters off the port. So far, the sharks weren’t interested. He blew out a breath and threw the boat into neutral.

Jamie skirted by the mother to get to the storage box, picked up the lifesaving ring tied to the line. He waited another second and then tossed it out to Missy. It landed on the water next to her at the same time as one of the sharks gave her a playful nudge. “Grab it,” he spoke sharply.

The sound of the high speed engine coming in for another pass, had him grabbing his flare gun and shooting it over the assholes’ heads. This time, he could see the driver, whose eyes went wide in that instant before the kid shifted down and decreased speed, slowly turning away.

But not without sending Jamie an angry fist.

Missy’s arm looped around the ring and around the girl next to her.

Jamie pulled the line, watching closely for the next shark to make a move.

Another nudge—not so playful this time, and Missy’s foot kicked out, striking the shark in the nose. She continued to kick as he pulled again, straining the muscles in his shoulders. His heart pounded, his hands pulled, one over the other, and when she was beneath him, he tossed the line aside and reached down.

The shark appeared from under the boat, mouth gaping. With one hand gripping the side, Jamie sent his fist into the water, jabbing at the shark’s nose, and then grabbed the back of Missy’s shirt and hoisted her and Iza from the water and onto the deck. His shoulder screamed with the weight.

He separated Iza from Missy’s clutches and checked her over for injury. No blood.

“We’re fine,” Missy said quickly.

Relief made him lightheaded as he handed the Izaneth off to her mother. He ran his hands over Missy’s legs—his fingers brushing the scar on her calf—and found bruises forming on her right thigh.

“He got my attention, anyway.” She laughed.

“This isn’t funny.” He glanced up to see if the boat was still nearby. He was definitely going to make a report.

Missy patted his hand and, still sitting, stretched her muscles before she rose. Only a wince as she straightened her leg. “It’s only bruising,” she said, as if trying to convince him.

He watched her for another second before nodding and taking the captain’s seat. She made sure their guests were settled, came to stand behind him, and kissed him on his shoulder, proof that the incident had shaken her up more than she wanted to admit.

What had seemed like an eternity hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes. The mother kept hugging him then Missy and back to him again.

Missy tied off the boat as he shut the motor down. She helped the kids out of their life jackets. They were bouncing with excitement.

“Gracias. Gracias.”

“De nada,” he said again as he threaded his fingers through Iza’s hair and gave her a smile. “No más saltos en el agua, vale?” he teased.

She buried her face in her mother’s side.

The boy lifted his hands to Jamie, who picked him up and tossed him into the air. He caught the mother’s gaze. “I will make a report. I promise. That other boat will pay.”

“Today could have ended much worse,” the mother said.

Jamie nodded. He couldn’t agree more.

Missy jumped to the wood dock, favoring her right leg, and turned to help the kids and their mother off the boat. The adults were decidedly more shook up than Reuben or Izaneth.

At the end of the dock, his home for the past fifteen years stood two stories high—The Shack. The lower level held the business. Scuba gear, surfing and boating gear for his small fleet. Last year, he’d picked up a few kayaks to add to the inventory. Tourists loved the addition.

And he offered classes for scuba diving along the reef and for kayaking along the shore and up the river.

Safety was a huge part of what he did. What happened today was a sharp reminder that he couldn’t be complacent.

“It’s not your fault,” the young mother spoke English, surprising him.

He turned to her. “My boat, my tours, my responsibility for your family.”

But she just shook her head.

“A personal encounter with a shark is not part of my business, not to mention the other boats out there. I should have been more watchful. Let me refund your money—at least.”

A smile touched her lips. “My children will talk about this day for the rest of their lives.” She lifted a finger. “What will people say if they find out you didn’t let me pay? Are you admitting it was your fault?”

He opened his mouth to answer, Yes! I should have been watching better, but she interrupted, “No. I paid, and I you will not apologize for the mistakes of others. I too will report them. And maybe we will see justice done, for my Iza and your Missy.”

“Ma’am—” he argued.

“I insist.”

Missy approached then, each of the kids holding a bright red popsicle.

“Say thank you.”

“Gracias!” Both kids grinned through popsicle-stained lips, the trauma of swimming with sharks over.

“Let’s get a photo, yes?” Missy grinned and crouched between the two children. The mother nodded and came to stand behind them. She held out her phone. “Por favor, Jamie.”

He knew how trauma could return at the most unexpected moments. But he only hesitated a moment before he took a picture of the family with Missy. Reaching over his counter, he picked one of his business cards up off the register and handed it to the woman along with her phone.

When she would have taken it from him, he held it just out of her reach. “If you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. It’s not always about whose fault it is, but about the well-being of your family. Come back, okay?”

A tear glistened in her eye, and she quickly wrapped her arms around his waist and let go a second later only to speak sharply to the kids as she led them out of the shop. Jamie grinned; mom voice. He’d been the victim many times in his day.

Jamie opened an arm to Missy.

She limped over, and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her against his side.

She sighed against his chest, and he kissed the top of her head, her dark hair getting caught on his five o’clock shadow.

He still had to leave tomorrow.

But as much as he regretted the long hours, the travel, and being away from her, there was something about taking on the bad parts of the world. Something about the blood pumping through his veins.

It was what kept him going, kept his life essential and crucial to Hawk Elite.

…to the world.