One Bossy Disaster: Chapter 20

Holy hell.

Everything moves at the lightning pace of that kiss, quick and powerful.

I’m still dazed, feeling like the whole world was just pulled out under me like a cheap carpet, all the colors of reality smearing with my emotions as it whips by.

It’s the ugliest mess you could imagine.

Too flipping much to process.

I stand motionless on the bridge, trying not to look out the window as I distract Molly with treats. She came along happily after I retrieved her from the other room. She’s definitely going to get her body weight in more salmon nuggets the second we’re back on land for behaving as well as she is.

I expected a barking, nervous mess. The way she leans against me, stress yawning and too scared to move, almost feels worse.

Also, I’m noticing things I never picked up on before as the rain keeps pounding the ship.

The rumble of the engine is quieter—maybe even nonexistent—and our speed is basically zero if I’m reading those navigation screens right. We’re drifting as far as the anchor lets us, rolling on waves that pitch higher every few minutes.

Sweet Jesus.

Dad almost got himself killed in a merciless storm a lot like this years ago, and so did my stepmom, Eliza. He saved her at the last minute.

They were insanely lucky. I’m just worried that the Lancaster gene for good luck in rotten weather skipped right over me.

I’m also really hating my name right now and those crummy jokes about fate.

It’s so surreal I feel numb.

My brain still can’t handle what that kiss means—if it wasn’t just another emotionally-charged mistake intended to shut me up.

And all this after the frigid way he shut me down, the way he tried justifying sending me off into the sunset with more money and a cold goodbye.

That hurt like hell.

What even is my life?

One of the other crewmen comes rushing past, heading for the controls.

My breath is too fast, so I work on slowing it down.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Stay in the moment, they say. But it doesn’t help when this is an especially crappy moment following a direct shot to the heart.

What did it all mean? Will I ever get the chance to figure it out?

All the sex, the secrets, the warmth we shared, this crisis gesture with his lips…

I don’t know.

I hoped I could feel like this was all bigger than an us that can’t possibly last. I wanted to finish out the terms of what I signed up for with Young Influencers, with or without Shepherd Foster.

Now I know I’m fooling myself.

All the charity money in the world raining down on my head can’t erase these memories. But they’re definitely on hold as Molly whines louder and I hug her, pulling her face into my arms.

“Don’t fuss, girl. Get some rest. We’ll be just fine. We’ll be home before you know it.”

I hope.

But Mother Nature doesn’t care. The biggest wave yet lurches past, punching the yacht up and down like a toddler tossing around a rubber ducky.

I’m not one for motion sickness, but my stomach twists.

My free hand scrambles around, searching for something to grip, but there’s nothing on the floor. Molly and I go sliding against the wall, helpless to prevent it.

Thankfully the impact isn’t hard. But what about next time?

God.

My stomach churns like mad.

Sure, let’s add some traditional seasickness to the heartsick fever I’m already suffering.

I can hear the younger crewman yelling into the radio and—is that a voice in the static coming back?

Progress, hopefully.

Needing a distraction while I’m stuck here and Shepherd deals with God knows what, I fumble around in my bag until I find my phone.

I’m shocked to see my wireless connection is back—and so is cell service.

There’s one missed call from Eliza.

The sight of it almost jolts me with its normalcy, and I stare at the screen with a creeping awareness that I haven’t spoken to her or Dad in over a week since he tried to play papa bear.

That’s way too long.

…and what if the worst happens in this storm?

Sighing, I hit Eliza’s contact, still stroking Molly’s fur.

She picks up almost immediately.

“Dess!” she says, always so brightly. Her happiness squeezes my heart.

This is what she’s done for my family.

She brought the sun and the stars back into the very dark void Dad lived in. An abyss he only broke out of for brief moments while I was growing up.

She’s not my bio mom, no, but I love her just the same.

“Hey, Eliza,” I say, trying to make my voice sound as bubbly as hers. Totally not like this might be my last call ever from a sinking ship. “How’re you guys doing?”

“So good. I realized it’s been a little while since we caught up, and your dad—well, he’s been bugging me to call you.” It’s so everyday, the way she says it. My heart wrenches. “I’m making honey pancakes for dinner. Your little sister needs to learn about the breakfast for dinner tradition when she’s young.”

“Adorable! I miss your pancakes so much,” I say honestly. “And your coffee… what’s on the menu at Liza’s Love now?”

It’s like I can hear her beaming over the phone the second I mention the little café she started.

“Citrusy sunrise brew. We take a single origin Sumatran dark roast and infuse it with dark chocolate and citrus rind. Cole was skeptical as always until he tasted it. Now, he’s basically demanding an IV drip.”

Somehow, I’m laughing despite the fact that I might never touch land again, but I’m glad. She makes it come too easy.

“Just don’t let him steal it for Wired Cup. Some things need to stay with the little indie places,” I tell her.

“Oh, yeah. I can’t wait to see what you think next time you come around. You’ve been busy, huh? Don’t be a stranger, hon.” There’s a pause as she speaks to someone else. Dad, maybe. Or Nicole, Elijah?

“Soon,” I promise, certain she’s probing me about the argument with Dad.

“Tell me about life.” Her tone shifts, double confirmation that she’s fishing. “I heard about… well, everything. But I’m sure there’s another version of the story than Cole’s.”

I snort into the phone.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s been a wild ride. But the worst is over.” I say it too quickly, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’m sure it was, honey. For the record, I was right behind your father when he offered to go to war with anyone behind that rumor crapfest. It’s messed up, putting your name out there the way that girl did. Oh, and your mentor…”

My breath stops as I wait for her to say more.

“Are you really okay? That’s the one part where I tried to talk Cole down. It’s one thing to go after a school of sharks that want to hurt you. But whatever happened, let’s just say I know enough about love to realize it’s always complicated. And I know you’re smart enough to figure it out on your own.”

She’s. Killing. Me.

She gives me too much credit.

If I were actually smart, I wouldn’t be here nursing a torn heart while the man I love tries to save us all from an icy grave, would I?

“I’m fine, Eliza. Really.”

I hate lying.

If she hears the quiver in my voice, she doesn’t let on.

“That’s what I told him. I said you didn’t need us fussing over your personal life when you could handle it yourself. But if those stupid Twitter journalists keep coming—”

“We’re good that way, I promise. Mr. Foster has lawyers, and he’s working overtime to shut it down,” I tell her, making sure not to call him Shepherd. “Give it time. They won’t know what hit them next week.”

There’s a loud burst of static from my phone. I check the screen to make sure she’s still there until her voice comes floating back.

“Wonderful! I’d expect nothing less from any man you’ve been close with. Plus, I’m sure he doesn’t want anyone thinking he’s messing around with a girl half his age just for favors.”

A girl half his age.

Ouch.

Yes, I know there’s an age difference. I also know Eliza was similarly burned by an older man once, before she ever met Dad, so maybe that’s what she’s channeling.

And maybe I should have asked her for advice sooner before I let my heart get the piñata treatment.

“Destiny? Are you there?”

I rub circles on Molly’s neck with my fingers. “I’m here, yeah. Sorry, a little static. How are the kidlets?”

“So much trouble. But my heart is overflowing,” Eliza says fondly.

She launches into a story of their latest adventure at a theme park in California, but the waves pick up again. Soon I’m fighting too much nausea to listen.

I already know the ending.

Eliza is a great hands-on mother, and I love my little siblings, but right now, Mother Nature won’t let me count my blessings.

At least I know my family is good and they’re happy.

That’s what matters right now, with my heart too cut up over Shepherd and the storm to leave me enough emotional breathing room for anything else.

“Must be windy where you’re at! I think I can hear it,” she says.

My eyes fill with heat and I steady my breathing, though Eliza probably can’t hear it over the rushing wind. The tears are molten as they spill down my cheeks.

Damn it all.

I miss them.

I miss Dad.

I even miss my mom, wishing she’d lived long enough for me to really know her, to see if she’d ever turn into a better person than the bitter mess she was at the sudden, unexpected end of her life.

“Destiny? Am I losing you?” Eliza calls through some static, thankfully oblivious to my tears. “Your dad wants a word before I go, so I’ll hand you over.”

Oh crap. Crap.

I wipe my cheeks and suck in a shuddering breath.

It’s the wind.

That’s all, I swear.

I clear my throat like there’s a frog trapped in it as he comes on the line.

“Hey, Dess.”

“Hi, Dad.” My throat closes and I wipe my nose on my sleeve. God, I’m such a mess. “It’s good to hear your voice…”

“Are you okay?” he asks immediately. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m fine. I’m just outside… enjoying the sea.”

“Don’t bullshit me, girl.” That’s my father, never one to mince his words. “I know when something’s wrong. I can hear it in your voice. You haven’t sounded like that since…”

He pauses.

I know what he was going to say.

Since everything went down with him and Eliza and that drama around Mom’s death years ago.

“Destiny,” he says firmly. “What the hell is going on? Is it the rumors?”

I hold the phone against my ear and take another long, shaking breath, releasing it past my gritted teeth until I can find my voice again.

If I could, I’d tell him everything.

If he could do anything, I’d beg for help, and honestly, he’d probably try. But one death defying rescue in a raging storm is enough for one lifetime.

I’m not putting him through that again.

Plus, Dad has little ones now. If there was even time for him to help us—and there isn’t—I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to him.

“It’s not the gossip,” I say. I’m relieved when my voice doesn’t shake and give me away. “That’s almost under control. Like I told Eliza, Mr. Foster is taking legal action.”

“Damn right he is. If he wasn’t, you’d best believe he and I would be having words.”

I wince at the thought.

Dad and Shepherd in a room, fighting over me.

They’re both grown men cut from the same cloth, and grouchy as sleep-deprived badgers until you know them well enough to see the very different sweetness underneath.

“You don’t have to worry,” I tell him. “Stand down, okay?”

He hesitates.

“I will, but you know I don’t like standing around when it’s my daughter’s life on fire,” he growls. “But what is it then? What else if it’s not this?”

“Dad, I—” I stop, trying to find the right words. “It’s life stuff, okay? I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about my future, my career. You know, the hard stuff I need to figure out alone. Same way you did.”

“If it’s Foster, he’ll need a goddamned fleet of drones to stop me from busting his fucking teeth out.”

“Dad!” Unable to help myself, I giggle. My eyes burn but the tears dry on my face. “It’s really nothing I can’t handle.”

More static blows up in my ear, and then his voice.

“You’re sure?”

“Do I not sound like it? Dude, look who raised me, and you did a pretty awesome job. From teenage brat to national scandal and soon-to-be savior of otterkind.” Okay, okay, maybe I am sniffling again. “And… and no matter what happens, you know I respect you to death. You were hard on me because you had to be. I’m glad you were, too. It made me who I am—and you can rest easy knowing your work wasn’t for nothing. I’ll tell you more later. But Dad, I can handle this. Please trust me.”

He’s quiet for a long second, and I’m scared we lost the connection.

“Sappy shit,” he grumbles, but I can tell he’s secretly pleased. “Just let me know if there’s anything you need, sweetheart. I won’t keep you.”

“Oh, I will! Thanks and I love ya.”

“Don’t ever forget how loved you are by all of us here. You haven’t stopped by much all summer. We miss you, Dess.”

So much for thinking the waterworks were over.

Wiping a few more tears, I press the phone close to my burning face. “I’ll come, I’ll come. Very soon.”

“You’d better,” he clips.

I kiss the air as I hang up, and a tiny shred of agony in my chest eases a little.

Taking myself out of the family equation was necessary for too many reasons, but they’ll definitely see more of me if I make it out of this alive.

I slip the phone back in my pocket just as the ship pitches and Shepherd bursts in.

He slowly staggers past, grabbing at whatever he can find for support as he makes his way forward.

Ice beads on the back of my neck when I get a good look at him.

Crud.

I’ve never seen him like this.

He’s pale. His eyes are wide and dark and trying like mad to hold it together.

The unexpected sight chills me to the core.

The peace I found calling my family vanishes, replaced by the crackling radio from the comm system again.

It sounds like another storm warning, what I assume are Coast Guard warnings about the dire weather barreling our way.

“Well? What’s the verdict?” I ask, dreading the answer.

But I have to know.

His expression is not that of someone who’s fixed our problem.

Everything that’s happened between us takes a back seat now.

We’re in real danger. Shepherd knows it and he isn’t trying to hide it anymore.

Maybe he can’t, and that scares me more than ever.

I’m on my feet before I know what I’m doing, gripping Molly’s leash tightly, crossing over to where he’s standing.

“What is it, Shepherd? Tell me,” I demand.

But the moaning wind and the punishing wave crashing over us steal my words.

Everything tilts and I start to slide—until he reaches out, using his better traction to keep me from slamming into a bulkhead.

I grip a whining Molly with all my might, holding the leash like a rope while her little nails scrape the deck for support.

It’s a solid thirty seconds before we stop tilting.

“We found George down below, knocked out from sliding around and breathing in fumes. The fuel line was cut.” He says the words with slow, deadly precision, leaving no room for any misunderstanding.

My heart hammers instantly.

Oh, no.

I want to misunderstand.

The fuel line? Cut? As in… someone sabotaged the engines and there’s no way to fix them to get us out of this?

But before I can ask anything else, Shepherd pushes the young man at the control aside. “Get the hell below deck now. It’s up to the automated system now, since we know it works. We need to take cover.”

Then he’s got me by the hand, and we’re running to the back of the ship as fast as Molly can keep up.

The waves look like slow-moving mountains leering in from the windows.

Insidious and black, glistening in the dense grey hellscape that’s going storm-green like someone broke the sun.

You might almost be tempted to think it’s beautiful in a terrible, chaotic way. But this is slow, unrelenting death itself and it’s heading for us.

I shake my head as we stare at it, not comprehending.

“Holy hell,” I mouth. “What now?”

Shepherd tears his gaze away from the sea to look at me. The darkness, the grimness of his face shakes my gut as my heart leaps into my throat.

Dread turns me to stone.

“Shepherd?” I whisper urgently.

“Hold your dog, Dess. It’s about to get very fucking choppy. This was no accident,” he adds, his voice boiling with rage.

No accident.

We’re stranded in a nightmare some lunatic planned.

Suddenly, I think I understand why Meghan sent me that message.

I think she also made our mistake and underestimated Adriana Cerva. The woman wants us dead, and there’s a horrible chance she’s going to get her way.