Page 4 of Bred By the Barge

“Get your hands off me, little one, before I put mine on you.”

For a heart stopping moment, his voice slices through me, muddling my mind and filling me with wonderful heat, but when the meaning of his words sinks in through the fog, terror pours ice through my veins.

My heart pounds and my vision dims.

“Don’t hurt her,” I manage through tingling lips.

“You should worry about yourself first,” he snarls.

“I am. Don’t hurt her.”

Thick brown eyebrows rise in surprise. Pitch-black clouds creep over the sky, narrowing my vision until all I see are his full lips, square jaw, the scar on his forehead, and his dazzling hazel eyes.

Awe and dread chase me into the darkness as I pass out.

Our parents smuggled us out of the city to protect us, but we ended up in worse danger.

We’re at the mercy of this massive alpha, and from what I’ve seen so far, he has none.

We’re doomed.

Chapter 2

Tide

Disbelief spears through me at her words, but I move on instinct and catch the side of her head as she collapses, preventing her from knocking her skull on the deck. Her face captures my attention, and for a moment, I can’t look away from her.

I study her high cheekbones, thin lips, and delicate nose in wonder. Yearning fills me.

Tangled locks of dark brown hair fall over her face, breaking my concentration. I settle her head on the deck before running my hands over her drenched form. Blood oozes from a gash on the back of her shoulder and a cut above her ear, but a glance at her hands reveals the worst of the damage. Shards of wood protrude from every digit and her palms prove no better. Her gnarled fingers and swollen knuckles look worse than mine after a brawl.

I tsk and settle her limbs to the floor before turning my attention to her companion.

With blue lips, pale skin, and labored breathing, the second female needs urgent attention. I rearrange her limbs and press my ear to her chest, but she’s wearing too many layers. I rip her coat open, curse, grab the collars of all five remaining shirts, and wrench the fabrics in two from top to bottom.

Not an ounce of interest sparks in me as I bare her bruise-covered breasts. Ranging from deep purple to black, the bruises tell a horrible story of recent abuse.

I drop my ear to her sternum and curse again at the watery echo, but the beat of her heart is reassuring. I lift my head and check for broken ribs before placing my fist over her solar plexus. With a quick shove, I push the excess fluid from her lungs. She coughs and spews water, so I roll her onto her side and pat her back hard enough to encourage more out.

My senses perk as the female behind me wakes. The sound of her sluggish movements warns me of her approach, but I lean down to check her friend’s breathing, exposing my back to her in silent challenge.

She’s no match for my strength even when she isn’t half drowned and exhausted, but I’m curious to see how far she’ll go for her companion.

To my surprise, she crawls around me as though I’m not even here. Kneeling on the deck of my own ship with the sun beating down on my back and my pants drenched from their clothes, I battle disbelief, anger, and jealousy as the tiny female ignores my presence completely. She stops and pulls her friend’s head into her lap and strokes her face and hair as she rocks back and forth.

“Gem! Oh, thank gods, you’re okay. Keep breathing. It’s okay, I’m here. I—”

I snatch her up and stalk toward the rear of the ship. She screeches and fights, but I tighten my arm around her midsection and ignore her struggles. With a few terse movements, I tug her wrists over her head, strap her forearms into the drying rack, and press my front against hers until she’s trapped against the pole.

“Don’t go anywhere, little female,” I snarl before heading back toward her friend.

I smirk as her enraged yell follows me across the deck. My crew’s worried faces peer out from the radio shack windows, but no one leaves their posts as I scoop the second female into my arms and carry her to the smaller butcher table on the port side of the rear deck. Used only for overflow when we haul extra fish, the metal is clean enough to glimmer despite the cloth shade covering the area. I lie her down, ignoring her shredded shirts, and lock a cuff around her ankle.

“Don’t touch her!”

I ignore the sweet voice and wedge a burlap sack under the younger female’s shoulder so she remains on her side.

“Leave her alone, you filthy pirate!”

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