Page 18 of Wayward
Dante’s glaring at me as the door closes. I know that look. He’s going to say something fucking stupid.
“We could have?”
There it is.
“Gotten killed. The remaining guard would have taken us all out before we could have tackled him to the deck. I’m not stupid,” I say, throwing my hands in the air and announcing it to whoever is watching and listening in the control room. Wherever it is. “And I thought you weren’t either. You’re not thinking. He’s not the Russian.” I shove Dante’s shoulder, and he stumbles back a few steps. Hell, from the way Dante talks about the Russian, we’d already be dead if someone in his organization wanted us dead.
“What the fuck?” Easton steps between Dante and me. Easton’s hair stands up, and his eyes dart around the room like he’s wired on Red Bull and speed. “Can you just stop? Both of you. There are more important things to worry about.”
Dante and I, in unison, turn to him. “Like what?”
“What’s more important than getting ourselves off this floating prison?” I continue.
“Like what’s going on with Haley and Zane.” Sam grabs my arm. Dante’s too.
“Sure, sure. I think we all know what’s going to happen there.” Dante shakes off Sam and steps around Easton. He slams his palm into my shoulder, leaving it there. But I don’t budge. Though the chef doesn’t lack force, he’s no defensive linemen. “You know what, Green? You’re a coward.”
I’m not a coward. I wasn’t any more scared than they were. Hell, I may be more scared now than I’ve ever been. Mostly because I think I finally realized what I have to live for. What I have to lose. And if they so much as harm a hair on her head . . . I’d willingly give my life to take them out. But what good is that if it only gets us so far? We’re still stuck in the middle of the damn South Pacific. Taking over the pirate ship?that might’ve worked. But the Rosewood? No way in hell. I’m a realist. I might have been wrong about getting off the island alive, but this doesn’t feel a hell of a lot better.
“We wait,” I say.
“What’s going on out there might not make life worth waiting for.” Dante drops his hand off my shoulder.
He might be right. Z could torture Haley in front of Zane until he gives him everything he wants. And then he’ll just kill them both. And fuck, maybe we should have just taken the risk and captured Z, taken over the Rosewood. That’s the thing with calculated risk.
You have to do the calculations.
And I did.
It wasn’t worth it. Not then, not a full-out attack. They...Z has to think we’ve given up. “I’m not a coward, but I’m not willing to get us slaughtered for no reason. And going after a well-trained guard is nothing but assisted suicide.” And Dante,with all his spouting about the Russian, he should know that already. “But you want to call me a coward?fine. I’ll call you a fucking idiot.” I spin around. Let the cameras see I’m losing it. Fuck, it’s better if they think we’re at each other’s throats, anyway. I’ll turn it up a notch. I punch at the air, waving my hands around, then drop on the bed and pop back up again. We play along. Let Z and his men get used to being sheep. Then we hit them. It’s only half of a plan. ”It’s over. No point in even trying anymore.” I spin again and punch Easton in the stomach. Not hard. He knows what hard is.
He doubles over, holding it. His blue eyes flick up to mine in confusion.
“Calvin!” Dante yells.
Penny barks, jumping around at my feet.
“Stop it!” Sam yells, cutting through my foggy thoughts. “This is not who we are. We’re a crew; we’re family. This isn’t how we’re going out. This isn’t how this ends. I refuse to believe that.”
I glare at him, but I think at least Easton’s picking up on my excellent acting ability. We can’t just give up. But I’m not lining up for a firing squad again. We’re going to have one chance to sell it. And one chance only.
Sam paces across the small cabin, his voice strong and certain. “No. We’re gonna make this happen. We’re gonna get home. And if we can’t fight them . . . there’s another option.” He sits down heavily on the side of the bed, leaning forward as if the weight of the world is pressing him down.
“What do you want to do?” Dante asks, taking his hand off my shoulder. His tone is sharp, challenging. “Invite them over for tea and crumpets? Last I checked, we have neither tea nor crumpets.”
Sam shrugs, unfazed. “If you can’t fight,” he says simply, “you can always join.”
I smile. Two down.
The room falls silent. Easton, the one who hasn’t said a word this whole time, just leans against the wall. Dante glances at him, then shrugs.
“What choice do we have?” Dante says, his voice quieter now. “We’ve got no other way.”
All eyes flick to Easton.
“Don’t look at me,” he snaps. “I have no fucking clue about anything anymore. Zane could’ve told me what was going on. Why the fuck didn’t he tell me?”
“Maybe he could have.” Dante places his hand on Easton’s shoulder. And turns to me. “But I’m alive, and so is Haley. And you are too. Though you don’t seem to care.”
