Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
“Just hold on to me, sweetheart. That’s all you can do now. Hold the fuck on and don’t let go.”
I can’t see the rain out the windows, but the sound, it’s everywhere.
A thousand angry hammers pounding on the windows, the cabin, the mess of things strewn around the deck outside.
Endless streaming noise like a waterfall, and that racket means water, so thick and cold and imminent, even if we can’t see it.
Oh, God.
There are no working lights on this thing anymore. Somehow, the power loss took out the emergency lights, too.
We’re blind, spinning through the waves in almost total darkness.
If it wasn’t for his arms wrapped around me, I think I’d pass out from the fear.
But he holds me so gently, stroking my hair, pressing me against his chest until I think I might just escape if I could only melt into him.
“Shit, shit. Destiny—hold on!” He senses the motion a second before I do.
The yacht groans like we’re inside a whale as it heaves up higher than ever before.
There’s a final blinding flash of light through the glass and we’re—
Holy shit!
We’re practically vertical.
The wall of water we’re climbing blots out what should be lightning and clouds and endless killing rain.
My heart stalls.
I don’t even worry about making Shepherd bleed as my nails sink into his skin.
A startled bark erupts just as we start falling, and for a weird second, it’s almost like we’re floating in zero gravity.
Dear God.
Please be all right, Molly.
Please don’t let us die.
Please, please don’t let this be the end.
A desperate plea, a prayer for an end that’s coming way too fast as I’m tumbling in Shepherd’s arms, too dizzy to know if we’re still standing on the ground or completely airborne.
I just feel the bone-jarring crash a few seconds later and my vision shorts out.
Everything turns white and then instant black.
“Destiny? Dess, wake up!” Shepherd’s voice floats down from a mile away, but it only takes a second to become so much closer.
I blink my eyes open as he shakes me.
“Oh, fuck. Thank God.” He’s holding me while I shake off a numbness that feels like I’ve been sleeping on my arms and legs for ages.
I blink my eyes awake and sit up in his arms.
“Can you stand? Go slow, lady.”
“What happened? Are... are you okay?” There’s a dull ache behind my eyes, but I’m grateful I’m still breathing.
“Took a nasty fall. We can’t tell if the hull’s been breached and we’re taking on water.”
Yep, here we go.
It wasn’t just a terrible nightmare.
“Shepherd, is Molly—”
“She took less of a beating than you. Shit, if I hadn’t pulled you aside in time, I don’t want to think about it.”
I look past to where he’s staring and see a dent in the wall. Next to it, there’s a heavy chest on its side with equipment spilling out, the bungees that should’ve secured it broken.
It isn’t hard to see I would’ve been crushed.
“Stay with Molly,” he tells me, gesturing to the dog.
She’s standing up and looking at me, her tail curled and her ears perked, but mostly she seems relieved I’m on my feet again.
She’s not the only one.
I settle in next to her, rubbing a bruise on my leg, while Shepherd goes to work with Captain Juan, who has a nasty new gash across his head.
The instruments are still out, but we’ve got a few faint emergency lights back.
The men work furiously at the main controls, manual levers and a steering wheel which take their combined strength to turn.
The only thing we have left is pure muscle, forcing the rudder this way and that, steering this thing manually. At least that must mean they were able to pull up the anchor and save us from being stranded out here.
We’re still riding hills of waves, smaller now but no less deadly.
I fight to keep my eyes open through the lightning flashing through the windows.
If these are my last moments alive, I want to be present, even if it’s just with my dog and the man who saved me.
Waves wash over the side of the yacht. I hope no one ever stepped out, because there’s no way they’d survive being washed overboard.
It’s raw. Violent. Impossible to believe, considering how the sea was so calm barely an hour ago.
Now, it’s a chore to remember what daylight looks like, or how it feels to not be afraid.
I don’t want to drown.
I almost regret downplaying everything during the last call to Dad and Eliza, but there was no good reason to have them sharing my misery.
It’s all on the line now.
If we go down here, we’ll disappear in the ocean. One more mystery lost at sea, a footnote of human interest.
Another wave crashes across the deck, slamming the windows. The silence in the cabin disappears in the growling rush.
Yep. We’re climbing another relentless wave taller than most buildings.