One Bossy Disaster: Chapter 21

I didn’t know it was possible to feel like shit stacked this high.

It’s one blow after the next.

First telling Destiny that I wanted her to leave the company, leave my life—

No, wanted is too strong a word.

I didn’t fucking want it.

It’s simply the right thing to do, and I wish she’d understand. Even if the hurt in her eyes is turning me inside out.

What the hell ever.

Emotional torture is the least of our worries and she seems to realize that.

I watch how Destiny pushes her feelings aside, giving small tells that show me just how difficult this is. The way her throat tightens, the nervous sweep of her hand through the husky’s fur, the slow, measured breaths that swell her chest.

The three rapid blinks.

Her luscious mouth turning into a thin pale line, robbed of its color.

The way she exhales tells me she’s trying to air out her emotions.

Her eyes are still clear, though, and they’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Hell, all of her.

If this storm reaches up and drags us to the bottom of the sea, I’ll go down with her on my mind.

And I’m sure it’s a one-way trip to hell, knowing my last living act was to cut out her heart and stomp on it like a drunken bull.

“Adriana,” she whispers as she looks at me.

“What?”

“That’s who’s behind this. It has to be her.”

I rake a hand through my hair as I process what she’s saying. “Adriana Cerva? Meghan’s mother? You think she’s responsible for the cut line?”

It doesn’t add up that a greedy, underhanded clown like her could do something so serious, let alone get aboard unnoticed.

Destiny nods and paces away from me.

The tears are gone, replaced by cold determination and the razor-sharp focus that sets her apart. “I think she was using Meghan as a puppet the whole time. We underestimated her.”

“Dess, she hired Mark, who couldn’t even find a way into the lab without giving himself away. You really think she’d find someone who could breach my ship’s security?”

She frowns. “You saw her, you know how toxic she is. I don’t know how, but I’m sure there’s a motive, and where there’s a will, there’s a way. She could’ve bribed someone again. Crazy, nasty-ass pageant mom. I can’t believe it either, that she might get us killed.” Her steps quicken as she paces, taking advantage of what seems like a break in the yacht lurching up and down hills of water. “All this over money. That’s the sick part.”

It dawns on me then.

“Not money, no. The fact that we’re about to nail her to the wall with Mark caught red-handed. This is self-preservation.” Fuck, I hate that it makes too much sense, even if I don’t know how. “If it’s her, she’s prepared to do anything to save her own skin. Just like she was with her daughter’s brand.”

“Yep. Success has everything to do with money. Her condition for keeping quiet was having Meghan take my place, or a massive payoff from you. And when you found out about Mark and what he did…” She inhales sharply. “Imagine how mad she must’ve been. Psycho enough to do anything.”

I think again about the deflated young influencer sitting at the restaurant table with us.

At the time, I barely registered Meghan. Adriana was always the threat.

But now that I think about it, there was something very wrong with that picture beyond a greedy, overbearing mother. Meghan was hollowed out. Not at all the loud, confident force she is online.

Her mother controlled the situation from the very beginning.

She was the personality, and Meghan was always just a blank slate. A tool Adriana used for success.

The thought makes me sick with fury.

It’s my turn to start pacing, all I can do to refrain from hurling my fists at the walls.

“Oh, God. Adriana wants us dead. I should have listened,” Destiny groans, and there’s such certainty in her voice, I find myself believing her now without question.

“Listened? What do you mean?”

Dess looks up miserably.

“As we were getting on the yacht, Meghan messaged me. She begged me not to go, but she wouldn’t say what or why.” She pulls out her phone and shows me the message.

Meghan never responded.

Maybe her demon mother saw what she’d done and punished her for it.

“She knew,” Destiny says. “She knew, and she tried to stop us…”

Fuck.

“If she had someone trash the fuel lines, they must’ve known the weather, too,” I say, angry that I didn’t see it sooner.

“Of course. She wanted to make sure they’d get us out of the way. No Shepherd, no Destiny, no lawsuit coming down on her head. The only one left would be Hannah, but with the chaos of you being gone…”

Damn.

“She knew my past,” I say, putting it together. “Even if someone figured it out, they’d think it was one of my uncle’s henchmen. Some prick from a long time ago who finally got his revenge.”

It’s too perfect.

“Yeah,” Destiny agrees.

There’s a growling sound against the sides of the ship as the wind reaches highway speeds again.

Over my radio set to the bridge, I can hear Juan and Peter, the younger man, battening everything down and preparing for the worst.

Her nervous eyes meet mine in the darkness.

There’s only Destiny now.

We’re balanced on knife’s edge, precariously close to losing everything.

All thanks to one rotten asshole’s bitterness and meddling.

“She won’t get away with this shit,” I vow.

Dess shakes her head. “You can’t tell me that, Shepherd. Not now.”

Not after everything else, she means.

She doesn’t say it, but she doesn’t need to.

I’ve fucked this all up for her royally.

For both of us.

After trying to muscle her away against my better judgment, I don’t have the stones to take her in my arms and hold her and admit I was wrong.

But now, as her chin comes up and defiance enters her eyes like burning stars, that’s all I want. Even if it’s the last thing I ever do.

Goddammit, she’s too beautiful, and I can’t believe I talked myself into throwing her away.

“This isn’t the end. I swear on my life,” I grind out.

Fresh static bursts from the radio. The comms are struggling again, but Juan keeps working steadily to raise the Coast Guard.

That might be our only chance, a fortified rescue vessel with a helicopter—if this storm doesn’t capsize us first.

Destiny digs for her phone and I find mine as well, but it’s just like I feared.

No signal.

We’re totally at the mercy of fate now.

A weird feeling comes over me.

I’ve seen my fair share of danger before.

No one expects death to sneak up on them without warning.

When I found Serena in bed with Blake and he came charging out with a gun, that was like watching my life flash before my eyes.

The rug being ripped out from under my feet when I least expected it.

The impossible, thinking the woman I adored didn’t respect me enough to be faithful while I was overseas, risking life and limb.

This is different.

There are no roadside bombs, no hit men, no reckless lovers with guns. We may never learn who did Adriana’s vile bidding to put us in this position.

Still, it feels like the ocean is coming with a vengeance, hungry to swallow me up for all the times I’ve fought and thwarted it.

I’ve taken stupid risks in my kayak for the last decade, and I never once forgot what I could lose if my focus cracked or I made a mistake.

The difference is, the only victim would be me.

Not her.

Not four other grown men.

Not poor Molly with her snout mushed miserably against Destiny’s ribs.

When you go to war, you know there’s a risk.

But this was supposed to be a safe evening cruise, dammit. A rare chance to spot some precious whales and do the send-off I thought I could manage.

It turns out, the universe had other plans.

Apparently, so does my fucked up heart.

The room wavers again, and when I can tell we’re past the latest swell, I decide to try the radio.

“Juan?” I call. “How’s it looking?”

He doesn’t answer. The silence glazes my brow with sweat, and I’m expecting the worst until there’s a soft banging on the door a minute later.

He emerges, weary and disheveled. I’ve employed him for years, and he’s a neat man. I’ve never seen him look like he just crawled out of a trench.

“We’re almost through the worst of it according to the radar. But the electrical system is strained, sir, and we’re going to lose power soon,” he tells us.

Destiny holds out her phone. “Do you have a signal?”

He shakes his head. “This is a dead zone sometimes in the best weather. Normally, not a problem with the onboard Wi-Fi forwarding calls, but without power…”

Yeah.

He doesn’t need to finish to tell us how screwed we are.

“The system shouldn’t be fragile,” I snap. “What happened to the backup generators?”

“Not sure yet, sir.”

“Fuck,” I curse and spin away, looking out at the slashing expanse of waves through the window.

The storm is far from done, and if we’ve sustained serious damage already, it could easily put us down before any rescue ships ever locate us.

“I need to go. I’ll give you another update in ten. Hold tight, Mr. Foster,” Juan says, barking a few more orders to his men as he walks away.

I slam the door shut, then pinch the bridge of my nose and inhale sharply.

Destiny comes to stand beside me, her fingers toying restlessly with something at her collar. When I look across, I see it’s the tiny black turtle necklace she always wears.

I’m annoyed that I never bothered to find out why it’s so special.

“I hope that thing brings us luck,” I say, nodding at it.

Her eyes darken and she gives me a lopsided smile.

“It’s more of a memento—and honestly, seeing how the original necklace got stolen years ago and this is a replacement from my stepmom… the turtle might be bad luck.”

Well, shit, how comforting.

The look she gives me next is so broken.

I want to sweep her into my arms more than anything. Hell, I’ll trade my life for the guarantee she’ll make it out of this okay.

But I can’t cause more turmoil, more confusion, more pain.

Not now.

I can’t even find the words to tell her I love her.

Especially when I’ve hurt her a whole lot more than losing that necklace did, and that’s not something I can just come back from.

In the distance, the sky churns, sending more rain and wind and waves at the ship, though ever so slightly less angry than before.

Why does this feel like a break before it worsens, though?

“So this is it?” Destiny rubs her arms, wearing a determined look. “I guess we just need to grin and hope for the best.”

Yeah, fuck.

I guess.

I also want to erase that vulnerable hurting look that’s still clouding her eyes. I want to kiss her one more time.

She can try to hide it, but I know why it’s there.

I read her body better than my own.

Her hands are balled up, her knuckles white.

Her eyes are empty and scared.

Her breath comes too fast, no matter how much she tries to control it.

Her gaze doesn’t settle anywhere for long, bouncing between the oncoming storm out the windows, the heightened wind, and me.

But there’s so much determination in the tilt of her chin and the tightness of her brows.

I swear, if it was down to bravery alone, this girl could tame the storm with a single glance. She’s that strong.

So is my need to do something incredibly stupid.

Instinct is stronger than staying paralyzed by fear as I grab her, pull her in, and let my heart whisper.