“Maybe he’s not dead,” she told herself, but she knew she was lying to herself. She’d for sure killed him when she ran over him with the Jeep. Twice. “Okay, he’s probably dead, but it’s not murder if he was there to murder me first. And that other guy? Well, that could be an accident. Purses fall off walls and kill people all the time, especially terrible murdering people. It’s called self-defence, bitches!”

She was hyper from the adrenalin rushing through her veins. After jumping off the balcony and into the pool, followed by her firebomb finish, she was feeling pretty good about her ability to stay alive… until she saw what was between her and the boat.

An airplane and another bad guy.

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

He was looking toward the Jeep, squinting his eyes at the glare of the headlights. He couldn’t see her! He must think she’s his team.

Without allowing herself to think about it too much, she hit the gas, speeding up, heading straight at him. “Self-defence, self-defence, self-defence.”

He realized that she wasn’t slowing down and lifted his gun.

She ducked as he sprayed the Jeep with bullets, flinching when they thunked into the side as she flew past him. He continued to shoot at her, but the gas pedal was touching the floor and the Jeep had reached its maximum speed, hurtling her out of his range quickly.

“Darn it!” she shouted.

Now what was she going to do? The island wasn’t big enough to escape him for long and there was a good chance the house was in the process of burning down, even if she could get around bad guy number three and head back. She had to get to the boat, it was her only hope.

She had to get far enough away from the island to wait him out until help arrived. Volkan had warned her not to try the boat, that they would stop her before she could get away, but it was her only choice. The guy was going to take the remaining Jeep and come after her.

She continued to floor the gas pedal, driving 180 kilometres an hour until she caught sight of the boat.

Her jaw dropped.

It wasn’t a boat; it was a yacht.

“Ugh, Volkan! Why can’t you have normal stuff?”

She had no clue how to sail a yacht, but she had to try. Her only other choice was to stop the Jeep and hide, but there was nothing except sand and a smattering of palm trees.

She stopped the Jeep at the dock, snatched up her knife, flung the door open and leapt out, leaving it running. She hurtled up the dock toward the yacht, reaching for the first rope tying it to a wooden pillar. She couldn’t get the rope undone, so she used the knife, hacking at it until it fell apart.