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)
I can’t stand it anymore.
Flying across the room, I throw my arms around his neck before I know what I’m doing, and he’s holding me just as tightly.
I’m sick with adrenaline, my limbs quivering, and he strokes the ropes of wet hair away from my face like he knows.
Of course he does.
“Are you hurt?” he whispers, leaning back and cupping my face, looking at me all over again. “Dess?”
“I’m alive. All thanks to you.”
“Don’t go soft on me now,” he whispers. “We still need to barricade this door before my damn arms fall off.” He switches his attention from me, searching for something not tied down or bolted he can use.
Eventually, he finds a long chain that spilled out of the storage chest and sets to work with Juan, wrapping it up tight.
The thunder grows more distant now, and the waves are more like the aftershocks of some tsunami, a shadow of the lethal danger they were.
I watch him the whole time, crossing the room to comfort Molly, trying to allow ample space while she shakes herself dry.
Capable, glorious, caring Shepherd Foster.
Molly whines and I let her lick the salt from my face.
I have no clue if it’s from tears or just water. I don’t care.
My chest heaves with emotion, more of it tangling up inside me with every passing minute.
We’re still breathing, though.
We’re alive and well as the darkness churns, an eternity passes, and soon, we’re plunged into a calm black night.
23
A Little Miracle (Shepherd)
The night is long and frigid and miserable as hell.
Yeah, the worst is over with the storm passing, but it’s no cakewalk as we struggle with the comms, checking our phones every few minutes for signals, holding our breath to see if another ship ever shows up to help.
I leave Dess to comfort Molly while Juan and I take turns manhandling the manual controls.
That was too fucking close.
Every time I close my eyes, I still see her being dragged out of that open door.
Almost gone forever.
And I know for certain what would’ve happened if I’d lost her.
I thought I knew before, but the fear that filled me then, the absolute terror of thinking I was watching her die, confirmed everything.
When the morning light breaks, everyone is exhausted from nothing but brief naps, yawning and rubbing bleary eyes.
We float into the sparkling sunrise, barely alive to tell the tale.
But we are alive.
Despite the odds, we made it.
Destiny unhooks her arms from the sleeping husky in her lap. Her eyes are wide and tired and she looks stiff, her wet clothes mostly dried into a clammy dampness if they’re anything like mine.
Yeah, fuck.
One glance from her is all it takes.
I can’t go on pretending this is something I can just quit the second we’re on land.
Her gaze drifts from me to the window and she smiles.
There’s a magnificent sunrise inching over the horizon.
Beautiful, sure, but after today, the sea will never hold the same magic for me that it used to.
“Any idea where we are?” she asks roughly.
We haven’t spoken for hours, too drained and distracted, running on pure instinct.
As the storm faded and we drifted through the night, we had to keep working.
Juan glances between us and excuses himself, eager to check in with his crew.
We haven’t seen Peter for over an hour, and with George laid up in sick bay, I hope they’re both okay, along with the other guys.
But Dess is still here, staring, waiting for my answer.
“I don’t know,” I tell her, wishing I had a better one to give. “No land in sight. We really need GPS to have any clue.”
She nods glumly and slumps back in her seat.
Bruises bloom across her arms and there’s a big one on her cheek, no doubt from the sea flinging her around like a doll.
I’m aching, too. Battered. Hurt all over.
But I can’t feel my own pain whenever I look at her.
There’s just this soaring relief that she’s alive, and fury at the soon-to-be destroyed motherfuckers who tried to kill her with their games.
“Sorry, Mol,” she says, unfastening the dog’s leash.
Molly sits up and yawns, wagging her tail like it’s just another morning. Or maybe the husky knows how close we came to never seeing another sunrise again.
Fuck, I almost watched them die.
I thought if I survived this, I’d have to go about life knowing she wasn’t in it, and the thought slayed me.
Now, I know.
I’m certain I’d rather die a thousand times than risk anything like that again, and she needs to know it.
“Destiny.”
Her head jerks up and her eyes find mine. Her lips are swollen from the salt.
“Shepherd.”
I take her hand and pull her up.
Instead of pulling away like I expect, she clings to me, her palms skimming over my arms, my chest, my back.
She’s checking to see if I’m all right, or maybe if I’m real flesh instead of a hallucination.