Page 212 of One Bossy Disaster


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“We found George down below, knocked out from sliding around and breathing in fumes. The fuel line was cut.” He says the words with slow, deadly precision, leaving no room for any misunderstanding.

My heart hammers instantly.

Oh, no.

Iwantto misunderstand.

The fuel line? Cut? As in... someone sabotaged the engines and there’s no way to fix them to get us out of this?

But before I can ask anything else, Shepherd pushes the young man at the control aside. “Get the hell below deck now. It’s up to the automated system now, since we know it works. We need to take cover.”

Then he’s got me by the hand, and we’re running to the back of the ship as fast as Molly can keep up.

The waves look like slow-moving mountains leering in from the windows.

Insidious and black, glistening in the dense grey hellscape that’s going storm-green like someone broke the sun.

You might almost be tempted to think it’s beautiful in a terrible, chaotic way. But this is slow, unrelenting death itself and it’s heading for us.

I shake my head as we stare at it, not comprehending.

“Holy hell,” I mouth. “What now?”

Shepherd tears his gaze away from the sea to look at me. The darkness, the grimness of his face shakes my gut as my heart leaps into my throat.

Dread turns me to stone.

“Shepherd?” I whisper urgently.

“Hold your dog, Dess. It’s about to get very fucking choppy. This was no accident,” he adds, his voice boiling with rage.

No accident.

We’re stranded in a nightmare some lunatic planned.

Suddenly, I think I understand why Meghan sent me that message.

I think she also made our mistake and underestimated Adriana Cerva. The woman wants us dead, and there’s a horrible chance she’s going to get her way.

21

A Little Indecisive (Shepherd)

Ididn’t know it was possible to feel like shit stacked this high.

It’s one blow after the next.

First telling Destiny that I wanted her to leave the company, leave my life—

No, wanted is too strong a word.

I didn’t fuckingwantit.

It’s simply the right thing to do, and I wish she’d understand. Even if the hurt in her eyes is turning me inside out.

What the hell ever.

Emotional torture is the least of our worries and she seems to realize that.

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