Anti-Hero (Wild Heart Ranch Book 4)
Anti-Hero: Chapter 20

I spent the better part of the last hour coordinating with two of Tolly’s finest to rig every building on this island to blow. After sending them back to the boat to help Ant with the kids and innocent adults, I snuck into the main office and sent everything I could replace to Ryder. From a logistics perspective, we’re lucky the island has only four guests, but Wimberley is mighty interested in following up with anyone who’s ever been here.

Even though I know the powers that be are just into confiscating the money and properties of these assholes, the actual operatives—Anders and Omar included—want blood as much as I do.

I’ve been running silent but paying attention to the comms the whole time. Hearing Ant manage his side of the op fills me with pride, not just because of the job well done but because of the fears he’s been confronting this whole time.

He is so fucking special, and whatever my concerns, I plan to make sure he knows it for a long time to come.

Now, however, is the time to fuck shit up.

When I spy Ant heading back up the path with Tolly’s guys, I tap my earbud. “I’ll be waiting for you at the top of the trail.”

“Looking forward to it, lover,” Ant says, and the two Ronalds chuff softly.

I knew he’d put the dress back on, but seeing him walk up the path in gingham and combat boots while applying lip gloss is a little bit of a mindfuck.

“Your pigtails are crooked,” I say, lightly pulling on one.

“I can wear them later if you’d like.”

“Shut up.”

He cracks up, and I brief our small team on what I’ve scoped out. The Ronalds aren’t new to this kind of op, which makes me wonder what the hell Tolly has been up to in the Caribbean.

“So you two will take on the people in the lounge-slash-pool area, and me and Pippi Longstocking here will take on villa number three. Sound good?”

Ant nails my hip with a sharp elbow, but the Ronalds are locked in.

Tolly’s posh voice comes on the line just as we’re about to go our separate ways. “Gentlemen, apologies. There’s one more pool boy—Maura says he’s new and feels awful they left him behind.”

Black Beard answers, “We have him.”

“Good man.”

With that, we break, and I take Ant off-path through the heavily treed area as the Ronalds go in on the pool area.

“Do you think we’ve accounted for everyone?” Ant asks, worry filling his eyes.

I nod. “I grabbed pics of the current roster along with everyone else. All the kids are accounted for, and with the pool boy, all the staff are now accounted for as well.”

Several minutes later, as we approach villa number three, the sound of silenced weapons filters across the line. There’s a scream and one of the Ronalds curses.

“We’ve got a runner, and he’s fast. Heading right toward you.”

Just then, a flop of blond hair appears through the trees, and an erudite man wearing flip-flops and expensive beach shorts runs in a cold panic up the carefully curated path winding through the colorful villas.

Ant reaches under his dress and produces two throwing knives.

Woosh. Woosh.

The man falls, one blade in his eye, the other in his neck. Quietly, Ant walks up to the man and removes his blades without comment. We pull him off the path and shove him under the porch of the nearest villa, right next to where one of the Ronalds rigged enough explosives to take down a Walmart.

After that, we quickly make our way to number three. Ant palms my stiletto as we hit the front porch, sending me a wink. I stand to the side as Ant knocks on the door.

“Who is it?”

“Mr. Dante sends me,” he says in his cloying little girl voice that sends murder through my veins. “More for tea party?”

Villa Number Three opens the door in a rush, looking down at him with eyes I’d give anything to remove from his head.

“You’re a little older than my usual girls, but you’ll do,” he says, dragging Ant into the villa.

I follow quickly, silently letting myself in behind them. I was prepared for the worst, but the three little girls are sitting around a small table with dolls, dressed very much like Ant. They all look to be the same age he was when he was brought here.

“Get under the table,” he says into the translator. “Close your eyes.”

One of the little girls sees me and dives under the table, and the other girls follow suit.

“What the fuck—” Villa Number Three starts, but replaces he’s unable to speak when Ant shoves my stiletto under his chin, impaling his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

“What a shame,” Ant whispers. “I’d love to take some time with you, but we’ve got an island to blow up.”

With that, he slowly pushes the blade in to the hilt. I know he’s hit something important when the man’s entire body shakes and he falls to the floor. Urine stains his expensive linen pants and his muscles are still jumping when I zip-tie him to the bed frame and pull the duvet down over his body.

Ant pulls out the translator app again and tells the girls they are safe and can open their eyes. One of them opens her eyes, and Ant asks through the app if she understands him.

She shakes her head. “That is not a good translation,” she says in soft English.

“You and your sisters speak English?”

She carefully nods her head.

“You don’t let them know you can.”

“No.”

“Smart girls. Come with us. Don’t be afraid of my tall friend—we’re getting you and the rest of the kids out of here.”

“The security guards?” the triplet in the green dress asks.

Ant shakes his head. “We have friends who are taking care of them. If we run into someone, though, we will probably have to kill them.”

“Good,” she says, her eyes black with hate.

Honestly? Fair.

Ant picks up one of the girls, I pick up the other two, and we race down the path.

“Close your eyes,” I shout as we near the pool.

All three girls squeeze their little eyes shut as we pass the pool, stained red with blood. The bodies of billionaires and island security are stacked neatly under one of the cabanas, also rigged to blow.

We meet the Ronalds and a scantily clad young man on the way to the dock. The black-bearded Ronald is down to his tank top, and the terrified-looking young man is wearing Ronald’s shirt over a pair of Speedos. His knee is bloodied, but he otherwise looks like he’s come out of the ordeal in one piece.

The little girls shimmy down and race over to the young man.

“Ronnie!” they cry and hug his legs tightly.

Tears appear in his eyes, and he goes to his knees, wrapping his arms around them, protective as any big brother.

Quickly, he stands. “We need to follow these men to the boat. All of our friends are there and none of the bad guys.”

The three sisters let out the same relieved exhale, and Ant rubs his chest, emotion close to the surface. He’s been brave, but I suspect he’s due for a crash. Hell, so am I.

We escort the group down to the boat, and the reunion is joyous. The other children bring clothes to the sisters, and they change right then and there.

Ant stands to the side, watching the scene as tears fall fast and hard down his cheeks. I open my arm to him and he pins himself against my body, burying his face in my chest.

“Look at what you did, baby. You changed their lives.”

He shakes his head. “You did.”

Tolly approaches us with a kind smile. “Hey now, I want my credit.”

Ant laughs through his tears and turns, giving Tolly a big hug before returning to my side. “Thank you so much. You’ve got everything set up at your place?”

He nods. “Erik’s friends are already in place, and one set of parents is already on their way from Japan. We’ve got everyone. You’re welcome to join us. I have privileges at the local private airfield if you want to take a day or two to relax and recover.”

“That’s up to Ant,” I say, squeezing him.

He sniffs and shakes his head. “I would love to visit you one of these days, but, uh, I think I might need my family.” Tilting his face to mine, he asks, “Can we do that?”

“Found or blood, baby?”

He thinks for a moment. “Blood. I’d like to see my grandparents.”

I bend and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Of course. We may have to stop in Cancun tonight, but we’ll be in Guanajuato by tomorrow.”

Tolly taps my shoulder. “Go to Isla Mujeres. There’s a private airport there. They’ll take excellent care of you, and I’ve got a small condo on the beach. Please. I insist.”

I check in with Ant, who sniffles and nods in agreement, even as tears continue to spill. I stand quietly with him until he’s calm enough to say goodbye.

The children seem to know exactly what he needs and overwhelm him in the best way with hugs and teasing. For whatever reason, they all start calling him whatever their local version of Pippi Longstocking is. I mean…it could be my fault.

While Ant is whispering reassurances, I notice José and Maura holding hands and the Ronalds taking particular care of Ronnie, the young man they saved from the pool.

He’s got on drawstring pants that are noticeably large on him and he’s still wearing the shirt he was given. Ronald in the tank top has brought him a small plate of food and a bottle of water while red-bearded Ronald fusses over his scraped knee.

Tolly follows my line of sight and whispers out the side of his mouth, “The Ronalds share more than a name, if you know what I mean. If the young man is amenable, they’ll ensure he forgets every bad thing that’s ever happened to him.”

Ant chuckles as he walks up to us and sneaks a glance at me. “Kinda like someone else I know.”

I cup the back of his head and kiss his temple. “Time to go.”

Tolly brings us both in for a generous hug. “I’ll call ahead for you. Everything will be ready, and if you decide to stay a few extra days, you are more than welcome to.”

“Thanks, Tolly,” Ant says, wiping away a few last tears.

After waving goodbye, we go back up the path and over to the plane, the place now eerily quiet. Ant sets out explosives along the runway as I run my final check.

Take-off goes smoothly, and we circle the island until Tolly’s freedom yacht is clear.

“We’re about to start the show,” I warn over the comms.

“Excellent,” Tolly says. “We’ve got the kids at a perfect vantage point to see it, and I don’t know who is more excited, them or me. Of course, the Ronalds seem to have gone missing with a certain young man…”

Ant cackles and pulls up the detonation app.

Ryder’s voice comes on the line. “Wimberley’s got the relevant satellites looking the other way. Go when you’re ready.”

Ant looks down at the island one last time, and I angle the plane so he can have a better view. He closes his eyes for a moment, then touches his finger to the app.

A crescent of fire flares up from the tiny island, the biggest fireball coming from the runway. The kids can be heard over the comms celebrating. Laughing, I turn to Ant. His smile is all wrong, and seconds later, his face crumples as sobs rack his body.

Feeling helpless, wishing I could take him into my arms and comfort him, I simply offer him my hand, which he pulls to his chest. As his shoulders rise and fall with the grief running roughshod through his body, it’s the pounding of his courageous heart under my palm that steals my attention.

“Tolly was right, Ant,” I whisper through the convulsive tears. “You are the bravest man I’ve ever known.”

He keeps a tight grip on my hand as he releases years of pent-up anguish. It goes on for a while, with an array of emotions—visible in his sobs, silent tears, and numb stares—lashing him on a whim.

Finally, he cries himself to sleep, gripping my hand for the rest of the flight into Isla Mujeres.

After a smooth landing, I taxi into a nice hangar and help Ant, dazed and quiet, out of his seat. A town car awaits us, courtesy of our noble friend, and I hand our bags to the driver, then finally pull Ant into a hug.

I don’t have any words, so I just hold him.

Finally, he speaks.

“I don’t think I want to do this anymore,” he says, his voice so soft I wonder if I’ve misunderstood him.

I know without him having to explain that he isn’t referring to us. I feel too much of his heart now to worry about that.

“You mean the bloody swath you’ve been cutting across the country?” I ask, aiming for a little levity.

He lets out a rough laugh as I lead him to the car. He gets in and scoots over, making room for me. I climb in next to him.

He’s quiet for another moment as he grabs my hand. “It’s not just that. I don’t want to be the pointy end of the stick anymore. I want to help if I can, but I can’t keep reliving it.”

His thick black eyelashes are spiky with tears as he bores a look into my soul, begging me to understand. Feeling for him as I do, I don’t need help understanding.

“One of the places on the list was San Miguel Allende. The man who bought you is dead, but your grandfather still owns the compound. Do you want to make that your last op, or—”

Ant shakes his head. “No. No more. It doesn’t give me those years back. Let him die old and alone in his big fucking house.”

“Okay, okay. It stops here,” I say reassuringly, pulling him against me as the driver takes off. “We visit your family, then go home and figure out whatever’s next.”

He chuckles under his breath. “Think they’ll take me back at the fencing company?”

I laugh and kiss the top of his head. “Yes. You have a lot of options though. Don’t forget, this trip has made you obnoxiously wealthy.”

“Oh yeah.” He sniffs. “Oh wait. What if Hopper and Anders kick me off the Murderer’s Row chat?”

The driver sends a worried look through the rearview mirror, and I wave him off.

“Nah, baby. Once a killer, always a killer. They’re yours for life.”

He sighs, collapsing against me. Seconds later, he’s breathing softly, sleeping as though today has sucked every ounce of energy from his body.