Page 107 of Ship Outta Luck

Charlie, too, from the sound of it.

Plus, that absolute turd of a human is shooting at me. At me! A professor at an esteemed university, the woman who found the legendarySantu Espiritu. It’s unconscionable.

Absolutely ungentlemanly behavior. The man is a criminal.

It will not do, and it will not stand.

Quite frankly, I’m sick of men acting like I don’t know what I’m doing.

Anger rises in me. Conviction matching it.

A seed of a plan forms in my head.

I’m going to rescue Dean. And Charlie. Pierce will never see it coming. Because he can’t see past his own dick.

Frowning, I chew my lip. No, that isn’t right. He’s definitely overcompensating; he probably can’t even see his own dick.

I might be in shock again.

Funny how that keeps happening.

Another bullet pings, slicing into the padded captain’s chair, and I stamp my foot, glaring across to theBetty. Shoving the engines into the water as I drop into a squat, bracing myself against the steering column.

I turn the idea around in my head. It’s risky, for sure.

Perhaps not the most brilliant thing I’ve ever conceived of, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Ugh. I must be stressed if I’m thinking in clichés.

“Hey, dick for brains!” I scream. “If you want to kill me, you’ll have to catch me first. And since I’ve had the drugs the whole time, you might want to rethink that plan, or you’ll never find them.”

I gun the boat, my heart in my throat. This entire, incredibly stupid plan hinges on Pierce taking the bait—and thus being stupider than my stupid plan.

Flawless.

“June, shutup.” Dean looks livid, his hands behind his back, zip-tied to the railing. Pierce raises the gun, bringing it down onto the back of Dean’s head. His eyes close and I half-scream, half-yelp.

Oh no, he didnotjust pistol whip my man.

Pierce slowly turns towards me, and even from here, the malice sparking in his eyes makes my blood run cold.

No, not cold. It’s definitely hot. Boiling, even.

I’mfuckingfurious.

But I know theBetty. The bilge pump is taking on water, water that, if it isn’t expelled, will be a problem.

Fortunately for me, that’s exactly what I need: a complete catastrophe.

Eyeing the control panel, I memorize the layout. These rental boats are a dime a dozen on the coast. How many times did I listen to my dad detail what they kept on board, how out-of-towners were better off with him than on some of these by themselves? How the wake they created when they didn’t know better was dangerous as all hell?

Ha!

Still. It’ll take all my skill to keep this big lug of a boat steady and create the wake I need without swamping myself.

I crank the wheel one hundred eighty degrees, turning it back towards theBetty, hot on my tail. The rental changes directions so quickly it catches the other boat in a massive wake, sendingit skidding over the wave, smashing into the water on the other side. I look over my shoulder. A green gush of water shoots over the bow, sending a wave of water back over it.

I pass the side of the boat, flattening out against the floor. No bullets fly.

“Ah, rang your bell a little, did I?” A high-pitched laugh startles me, and I look around for a second before realizing it came out of my mouth. Panic? I ran straight past it into sheer mania.

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