“Stay with me, Priscilla.”
My eyes grew heavy.
“I need a doctor,” the nurse said sharply.
Then I went under again.
The blackness felt safe.
So safe.
CHAPTER 7
LOCKE
“Jordan?”
I stared at the small kitchen as I sprawled on the bench with a beer in hand.
Maybe if I ignored Stone, I could untie the ropes that held me in the slip and coast right into the harbor. I didn’t need to stick my nose into this clusterfuck.
I could be in Maine before lunch, a buttery lobster roll and a lager sounded a helluva lot better than babysitting a woman who probably didn’t want me to get involved in her business. A woman who had no business depending on me.
My boat rocked and footsteps sounded on the hull before Stone came into view. “You letting me on board, or what?”
I sighed. “Can I stick with or what?”
“No.”
“Yeah, permission to come aboard.”
“Gee thanks. How the hell do I get on this thing?”
“You’re on it.”
“You’re a smartass, you know that?”
“I’m farther back.”
“How the hell is this thing a square?”
“Never seen a catamaran?”
Stone’s voice got closer. “Evidently not. It’s got feet.”
“Hulls,” I muttered.
“Whatever. It’s—oh.” He hopped down to the main space where I hung out on nice nights. “Not what I expected.”
One of the reasons I’d bought the ship was the maximized living space between the hulls. It wasn’t nearly as cramped as most ships were. I had more storage and sleeping space and I could max out my solar panels since I had more flat surfaces to soak up the sun’s rays. More often than not, I simply dropped anchor instead of dealing with the cost of a marina, but I’d wanted some land time in Salem.
I needed to see if I could handle being moored again.
I’d been drifting since Milligan died. Literally. I wasn’t entirely sure I could return to the real world.
Now I was in the middle of a goddamn mess.
“The double hulls give me more living space and stability.”