Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“Allie, no,” Anne whispered, reaching for my hand, holding tight. “Never that.”
“But I can’t help but wonder what you would have done when Lina didn’t measure up to your impossible standards either. Who would you blame then?” I held on to that towel like a lifeline with one hand, and Anne’s with the other.
“Leave now.” Mom dismissed me without another word, striding out of her suite while Rachel scurried after her.
“Even now, she’ll protect Lina over everyone else,” Anne muttered.
Mom wasn’t going to help us. We were on our own.
Chapter Fourteen
Hudson
Ballet4Life97: You look like a piece of art. That fouetté? Gorgeous.
Allie Rousseau looked good as hell riding shotgun in my truck, looking out the window like she’d done it a thousand times, her hand wrapped around the oh-shit handle as we pulled onto the bumpy beach-access road.
And I struggled to concentrate on both the road and what Beachman was saying from the back seat. He was my backup plan, a second set of eyes and ears to look out for Allie just in case Caroline decided to go back on her promise to back off.
“So we pull up on this vessel, right? And we’re talking thirty-foot seas—” Beachman continued.
Allie turned her entire body to look into the back seat, her oversize sunglasses making it impossible to get a hint of what she was thinking.
“They were more like twenty,” I corrected.
“Still, the waves are fucking huge.” Beachman leaned forward. “And this fishing vessel is bobbing like a cork, taking on water from all sides, and Ellis here is somehow dodging the crow’s nest as he brings up the crew.”
“That’s more the pilot than it is me.” I drove past the hot spots teeming with tourists, and the road got rough with sand.
“Whatever.” Beachman waved me off. “So he starts down for the last guy as this swell comes up over the bow, and the captain fucking jumps.”
Allie’s lips parted, and I fought to keep my eyes on the road.
“Right? So Rafferty’s got the controls, and he’s telling Hudson that we gotta reel him in and reassess because it’s dark as shit and we think the captain’s been dragged under the hull.”
“He’s exaggerating. I had a visual.” The new comfort station came into view, and I spotted Mom and Dad’s SUV parked nearby. Despite the remodeled showers and bathrooms that would normally draw the tourists, this section of beach was still the best-kept secret in Haven Cove.
“The fuck you did,” Beachman countered. “Anyway, so Ellis starts arguing that he can get to him, but I started the hoist because, you know, orders.”
“You’re a swimmer too?” Allie asked.
“Hell no. I have respect for my life and am therefore a flight mechanic. Swimmers are fucking crazy. No offense intended.” He slapped his hand on my shoulder as we approached the coned-off area designated as a parking lot.
“None taken.”
“So, the second Ellis is clear of the vessel, the asshole disconnects from the cable, and falls like twenty-five feet into the water.”
Allie’s eyebrows rose above her sunglasses.
“Exactly.” Beachman threw up his hands. “So now I’m scrambling to get the basket ready, and Ellis is down there in thirty-foot swells—”
“Twenty,” I corrected.
“And get this—he finds the captain. The boat starts to pitch, and the whole fucking thing goes over on its side, and the crow’s nest had to have been two or three feet away from Ellis when it came crashing down.”
“Oh my God,” Allie whispered.
“It was more than ten feet.” I shot a look over my shoulder at him. “Stop exaggerating.”
“Are you telling the story? Or am I?” Beachman threw his hand over his heart. “So the swell yanks the boat back up again, and Ellis starts hauling this giant fucker through the water like he’s no bigger than a toddler, trying to get some distance between them and the hull, and the whole vessel bobs right back like it’s a game of Whac-A-Mole. I think that thing came for him at least three times before we got the captain hoisted, then once more before Ellis was back on board. Rafferty was pissed.”
I pulled into a spot and put the truck in park.
“When was this?” Allie asked me, unclicking her seat belt.
“Last night, off the coast of Maine,” Beachman answered, already moving for the door. “I’m telling you, Ellis here is the luckiest bastard I’ve ever met in my life.”
“Last night?” Allie leaned on the console between us. “We could have canceled today.”
“Everybody lived and I’m perfectly fine,” I promised, undoing my belt. “Just another day at the office.”
“Potential death is just . . . commonplace for you.”
“Pretty much.” I nodded.
She stared at me a few seconds longer, but the damn glasses hid whatever was going on in her eyes. Something about her was off today.
“Let’s go, lovebirds,” Beachman called into the truck before shutting the doors.