Page 220 of One Bossy Disaster

Sweat beads down his neck in rivulets.

I dig my fingers into Molly’s harness, holding on as I watch them go back and forth about the best course of action like two combat vets planning a raid. The tension between them almost hits breaking point.

And I guess that goes for everyone in this room, too.

It’s not just worry lining their faces.

It isn’t just concern wrapping hands around their throats with strained words.

The two men in front of me aren’t sure what to do, and their uncertainty feeds my fear, potent and commanding.

Shepherd curses again, pounding the wall before he sends me a quick glance and turns his attention back to the instruments.

Screens are flickering now, strobing right along with the overhead lights.

And I realize there’s something worse than getting pulled under by the storm.

The very real possibility that this ship might be pitch-black when it gets swallowed up.

Lucky me.

And my luck gets even better three seconds later when the lights blow out.

For the first time, I’m truly paralyzed in the roaring blackness.

I can’t even get back to Molly, but somehow, I stumble into Shepherd and grip his arm for support. “Tell me what to do. Please.”

“Just hold on to me, sweetheart. That’s all you can do now. Hold the fuck on and don’t let go.”

I can’t see the rain out the windows, but the sound, it’s everywhere.

A thousand angry hammers pounding on the windows, the cabin, the mess of things strewn around the deck outside.

Endless streaming noise like a waterfall, and that racket means water, so thick and cold and imminent, even if we can’t see it.

Oh, God.

There are no working lights on this thing anymore. Somehow, the power loss took out the emergency lights, too.

We’re blind, spinning through the waves in almost total darkness.

If it wasn’t for his arms wrapped around me, I think I’d pass out from the fear.

But he holds me so gently, stroking my hair, pressing me against his chest until I think I might just escape if I could only melt into him.

“Shit, shit. Destiny—hold on!” He senses the motion a second before I do.

The yacht groans like we’re inside a whale as it heaves up higher than ever before.

There’s a final blinding flash of light through the glass and we’re—

Holy shit!

We’re practically vertical.

The wall of water we’re climbing blots out what should be lightning and clouds and endless killing rain.

My heart stalls.

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