Samuel grabs her by her hair, bending her in half. He wraps his other arm around my bicep, squeezing it until my fingers tingle. He drags us down the hallway, away from the stairs. He descends another set of stairs. The luxury of the upper decks disappears. We’re in the crew’s mess, it looks like.
Maeve screams out, “Draven!” as I yell, “Daddy!”
Hopefully, Daddy heard us and knows we’re not upstairs anymore.
Samuel sweeps his head from side to side as if he’s lost, then he turns us, continuing down a long hallway. At the end of the hall, Samuel shoves us into a large room. The smell of diesel and oil fills my head. It’s almost too much. Almost overwhelming.
He stops and shoves me toward the door. “Lock that door.”
I search the door. I know nothing about boats. This is the first time I’ve ever been on one. I look at him over my shoulder.
“I can’t. There’s no lock,” I reply.
His head whips around, and he points toward something with his chin. “There. Get that pole and shove it through the wheel.”
I do as he tells me, but I don’t think it’s going to keep Draven out. The door opens into the room, not out, but I don’t tell him that. Fuck if I’m going to help him keep me from my Daddy.
Samuel pushes us down another level and deeper into the bow of the boat. The walls narrow the closer we get to the front. In here, the sounds in the room are near deafening. The walls of the hull are exposed and painted, but there’s no barrier to dampen the noise from the engine and ocean.
Then he stops.
Rage bellows out of him in a thunderous roar.
“Motherfucker!”
He lets go of us and paces around the room.
“Where the fuck is it?”
I have no clue what he’s talking about or what could be missing. We have to be below the waterline by now. The walls of the ship aren’t just narrowing toward the front; but the upper part of them is wider than at the floor, so there can’t be any further down to go.
While Samuel screams and paces, I grab Maeve’s arm and step backwards.
Slowly.
She follows.
We move at a snail’s pace, creeping away from him, inch by inch. There’s about twenty or thirty feet between us and Samuel. She looks at me and me at her. We nod at one another, then turn and take off. Our bare feet barely making a sound.
Just when I think we’ve gotten away, Draven’s voice fills the hull, calling out my name. His voice echoes off the metal. Then the echoes echo, and it’s just a cacophony of my name being repeated.
Samuel’s dress shoes smack sharply on the floor behind us. I push Maeve up the stairs, rushing her so I can get up them, too, before he gets to us. If we can just get to Draven.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
DRAVEN
At the soundof Maeve and Tavish’s voices coming toward me from below, I turn away from the doors I’m checking, racing toward my boy and sister. Down another set o’ stairs to the crew quarters, following the sounds, I head toward the bow, stopping at a bulkhead door.
Twisting it, I sigh with relief as it opens with a clank as something falls to the floor. I pay no attention and continue through the room, searching for them.
“Motherfucker! Where the fuck is it?”
Samuel’s voice rings through the bow of the boat, drawing my attention. Moving toward the sound, I’m shocked to see my sister, my very naked sister, creeping up the stairs, being pushed by Tavish. I reach out to her as my boy’s eyes brighten, catching with mine, and a smile lights up his face. I can feel my own stretching at the sight o’ him. He’s beautiful, despite the cuts and bruises, or maybe because o’ them. He never gives himself enough credit for how strong he is.
Maeve grabs my hand, and I help her up the last few steps. She throws her arms around my neck, and I hug her to me with one arm while reaching for Tavish with the other. His fingers touch my fingers, and I curl mine in to pull him toward me.
“He is mine!” Samuel screams.
