AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They’re nice toys, elegant and fun to ride, but they’re meant to stay out of harm’s way when the going gets tough.
This is a pleasure boat. We’re supposed to be lounging around boneless, sipping champagne and sampling caviar.
Not running around like hens on fire, securing what we can so we don’t get crushed by a flying chair.
And even if we do it perfectly, those floor-to-ceiling windows scare me a little, imagining a hundred ways they could break and send violent water surging in.
But at least the dread speeds me along.
We do what we can while Captain Juan and Peter work the radios and navigation systems, whenever they’re not tending to George in the sick bay below deck.
I can feel my heart beating in slow motion as I crouch down next to Molly in the corner. She’s curled up in a canine heap, drained from the stress, but very much awake.
It’s pounding nails outside again like an ominous rhythm counting down the fading minutes of my life.
I wish I’d been bored enough earlier in my life to look up storm survival at sea.
The wind picks up even more, just when it doesn’t seem possible. The yacht pitches and rolls and screeches from the stress, metal and fiberglass and God only knows taking a beating.
Soon, I can hear Captain Juan yelling overhead.
“Almost there, girl. You’re being so good. Just a few more hours.” It’s all I can think to say as I kneel next to Molly, pressing my face into her fur as she stress-yawns.
Her familiar smell comforts me, even if she’s a few days overdue for a bath.
My stomach drops into my toes before it leaps up my throat again.
Molly whines, and the sound eats into me.
Stupid, stupid me. If only I’d left her with Lena for this trip...
“Shhh. You’ll be okay,” I tell her again.
I guess it’s a blessing in disguise that she can’t smell my lies.
She doesn’t need to know there’s a chance we won’t make it through this.
She’ll also never know the heartache of a man who keeps shocking me to my core withhe loves me, he loves me notwords and gestures.
All while we don’t know if we’ll still be breathing in an hour.
I count my breaths to stay calm, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
There’s a sharp curse from somewhere behind me, and I stand up, untying Molly’s leash from the wooden column around the wet bar.
Shepherd told me to stay in the observation room, but there’s no way I’m going to sit down here on my own while he’s out there risking his life.
I can’t lose my nerve.
We’re not going to die like this if I have anything to say about it.
All we have to do is get through the next few hours.
How much worse can it get?
I amble up the stairs as the yacht pitches and creaks, guiding Molly to the bridge.
It’s blacker than ever outside. Not even a hint of sunshine breaking through the chaotic clouds that match the fuming waters.
