Page 110 of Ship Outta Luck

Pierce’s groan is loud enough to be audible over the still-running motor of theBetty.

I inhale sharply as Charlie digs a finger into the gunshot wound on his shoulder. “Oh, they’re not there, are they?”

“Pocket. Back pocket.”

Charlie pushes him to an upright position, causing another groan of pain, and my stomach flips.

“June. June.” Dean’s voice is raspy, slurred. Shit. He sounds awful. I drink him in, the stubble that now borders on a full-grown beard. He’s so damn handsome, it makes my heart hurt. God, I hope he’s okay. He has to be. “Why is your boat sinking? Why is Charlie holding a gun on me?”

I flip my attention back to my friend. Charlie’s eyes are flat. Guarded. Her easy-going smile nowhere to be found. Suspicion nags at me.

“Charlie—”

“The drugs aren’t in your office, June. Where are they?”

“Charlie, put the gun down.” Dean suddenly seems more alert. The water laps at his knees, and he works his wrists gently, his shoulders bunching.

Distraction.He needs a distraction.

“Oh, oh my god, Charlie! Charlie,” I cry out. Will I win an Oscar? No. “You shot him. Several times.” I pause. “Good job on that, actually.” As the words come out, it clicks. “And you ran over that guy in the parking lot… on purpose, didn’t you? Who are you? Is Charlie even your name?!”

“Put the gun down, Charlie.” Dean’s voice is low now, warning laced through the words. Ugh, I could shake him. Hello! I’m trying to make a distraction here.

“Shut up, Dean, your way isn’t working.” Charlie’s eyes slip back to Dean, and I let out an ear-piercing shriek.

“Charlie, what the hell? We’re supposed to be friends and you’re over there on my boat, which is sinking, by the way, did you notice that? And you’re holding a gun on my boyfriend.”

I have Charlie’s full attention now, and Dean’s. That delicious, cocky smile turns the corners of his mouth up, and I have never, ever been happier to see a damned dimple in my life.

“Boyfriend? Good. I’m glad you finally banged it out, June. I’m not holding the gun on him. I’m motivating you to tell us where the drugs are.” She shakes her head, grinning.

“I don’t know where they are.” My voice is a thin whine of anxiety. “Is that all I’ve been to you? Some kind of drug mule?”

“June, no. Don’t be like that.” Charlie glares at me, then laughs. “And wait, what? That’s not what that term means. At all.” She snorts. “Trust me, it would be easier if you were just some drug mule. We’d just fish ‘em right out of you.”

“Ew,” I say, cringing.

Dean mouths the words ‘drug mule,’ shaking his head and laughing.

I scowl at him. He doesn’t seem too upset that Charlie is pointing a gun at him.

“I don’t have a clue where they are, Charlie, and I don’t appreciate feeling used.”

Charlie runs a hand through her hair, the cuffs dangling from one wrist, flashing in the sunlight.

“Well, Evans, do you think she’s telling the truth? Or were you blinded by the beaver yet again?”

My jaw drops. “You did not just say that about me.”

Dean narrows his eyes at me. “She doesn’t know.”

“Idiots,” Pierce mumbles. “All of you are fucking idiots.”

“What’s that?” Charlie steps on top of his thigh, causing more blood to leak into the water.

Pierce groans. “Are we going to get off this fucking boat or are you going to drown me?”

“Now that you mention it…” Charlie trails off, squinting across the water at me. “You really don’t know, do you?”

---