Page 68
Story: Pirates in Calusa Cove
“We can use her as leverage, and that’s what the boss wants.”
“Not if her father and boyfriend are dead. Who else in this town would give the boss the jewels to save her?” the man said. “Our boss is going to be pissed, and I refuse to take the blame for your mistakes.”
“Relax. All I did was clock the boyfriend on the head.He’s fine. The fire trucks weren’t far away. They’ll save him. Not sure about the dad, though, and I’m not the one who shot him. You did, and you’ll have to take the blame for that.”
A guttural sob filled Trinity’s throat. She swallowed it down. She would not show these men such raw emotion, not betray the horrible fear they induced. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She needed to be strong—stronger than she’d ever needed to be before. She would survive this. She had to.
Another thing she was good at was assessing time. That came from scuba diving and understanding how much time she had been under, how much time she had left in her tank, and how much time it would take to surface safely.
The boat didn’t go too fast. Not as fast as her cruiser could have gone. She wasn’t exactly sure how fast, but based on what she believed, it was about a twenty-two-foot vessel that cut through the bay at about sixteen knots.
The men no longer spoke to one another, making it easier for her to gauge the time. She was used to silence when she was underwater. She was used to using her breath, her pulse, and her body to calculate time. It wasn’t easy, but she’d spent a lifetime learning to do it. By the time the boat slowed and pulled up to…something, she figured they had been driving for about an hour.
If her calculations were correct, they would be somewhere in Gullivan Bay. That could mean any number of small towns, marinas, or even a boatanchored. But it was a place—a location—something to work with.
The engine cut out, and utter silence filled the air until it didn’t.
“Did you get the jewels?” an all-too-familiar female voice smacked her ears. It snaked down her spine and made her shudder. Her entire world crumbled in a second.
“Mallary,” she whispered.
Keaton saton the edge of the hospital bed while a nurse took a pair of scissors to his favorite pair of jeans. He held the ice pack to the back of his head. All he wanted to do was race out of the room and chase after whoever had taken Trinity and shot and nearly killed her father.
He had promised Monty that he’d protect them both. That they would be safe in his home.
He’d failed.
Tears burned his eyes.
Fletcher leaned against the far wall, covered in soot. He wiped his brow.
Doctor Emily Sprouse pulled back the curtain and strolled into the examination room.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the operating room with Monty?” Keaton dropped his hand to his side. He grimaced as the nurse poured some antiseptic on his thigh. The large piece of glass was still stuck in his muscle. The paramedics hadn’t wanted to yank it out,and they—along with Hayes—had forced him to take a ride in a damn ambulance instead going with Dawson.
Not that Dawson had too many leads.
Keaton didn’t even know if his attackers had come by water or land.
“Monty’s stable.” Emily leaned over, slapped on a glove, and pressed her finger against his leg. “I’m not the right doctor for the surgery. The bullet is too close to his heart, and he needs a specialist for that,” she said softly. “I’ll be heading back in to observe. I’ve known Monty a long time.” She glanced up, catching Keaton’s gaze. “I was in elementary school when he was the star quarterback in this town. Every girl, including me, had a crush on that man.” She smiled. “I made sure he had the best of the best. He’s in good hands.”
“Thank you for that,” Keaton said. “Now, how about making this process go faster so I get out of here? Trinity is?—”
“I’m well aware of the situation, Mr. Cole.”
“It’s Keaton.”
The doctor nodded. “We need to get that glass out, flush the wound, make sure no glass is stuck in there, and stitch you up. Then you can go.” She held up her index finger. “But I’m more worried about the fact you were knocked unconscious. I’m told you could’ve been out for well over ten minutes, and it took smelling salts to wake you.”
“It’s not my first concussion. I’m fine,” he mumbled.
“The fact that you can say that with a straight face is worrisome.” She arched a brow.
“He’s not going to sit idle.” Fletcher pushed from the wall. “I’ll keep a close eye on him, promise.”
She folded her arms. “I know from past experience there’s no arguing with you guys, but since it’s going to be at least an hour before you can walk out of this joint, you’re going to humor me by letting me do a final check on your head. Just a few questions to make sure you’re still ornery and coherent. I want to flash my light in your eyes and annoy you.”
“Sounds like a reasonable request to me.” Fletcher placed his hand on Keaton’s shoulder and squeezed. “But after that, he and I are gone, and he’s not doing it in a wheelchair. We’re not waiting for massive amounts of paperwork. He knows what ‘against medical advice’ means, and he’s been through worse in the Navy.”
“Not if her father and boyfriend are dead. Who else in this town would give the boss the jewels to save her?” the man said. “Our boss is going to be pissed, and I refuse to take the blame for your mistakes.”
“Relax. All I did was clock the boyfriend on the head.He’s fine. The fire trucks weren’t far away. They’ll save him. Not sure about the dad, though, and I’m not the one who shot him. You did, and you’ll have to take the blame for that.”
A guttural sob filled Trinity’s throat. She swallowed it down. She would not show these men such raw emotion, not betray the horrible fear they induced. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. She needed to be strong—stronger than she’d ever needed to be before. She would survive this. She had to.
Another thing she was good at was assessing time. That came from scuba diving and understanding how much time she had been under, how much time she had left in her tank, and how much time it would take to surface safely.
The boat didn’t go too fast. Not as fast as her cruiser could have gone. She wasn’t exactly sure how fast, but based on what she believed, it was about a twenty-two-foot vessel that cut through the bay at about sixteen knots.
The men no longer spoke to one another, making it easier for her to gauge the time. She was used to silence when she was underwater. She was used to using her breath, her pulse, and her body to calculate time. It wasn’t easy, but she’d spent a lifetime learning to do it. By the time the boat slowed and pulled up to…something, she figured they had been driving for about an hour.
If her calculations were correct, they would be somewhere in Gullivan Bay. That could mean any number of small towns, marinas, or even a boatanchored. But it was a place—a location—something to work with.
The engine cut out, and utter silence filled the air until it didn’t.
“Did you get the jewels?” an all-too-familiar female voice smacked her ears. It snaked down her spine and made her shudder. Her entire world crumbled in a second.
“Mallary,” she whispered.
Keaton saton the edge of the hospital bed while a nurse took a pair of scissors to his favorite pair of jeans. He held the ice pack to the back of his head. All he wanted to do was race out of the room and chase after whoever had taken Trinity and shot and nearly killed her father.
He had promised Monty that he’d protect them both. That they would be safe in his home.
He’d failed.
Tears burned his eyes.
Fletcher leaned against the far wall, covered in soot. He wiped his brow.
Doctor Emily Sprouse pulled back the curtain and strolled into the examination room.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the operating room with Monty?” Keaton dropped his hand to his side. He grimaced as the nurse poured some antiseptic on his thigh. The large piece of glass was still stuck in his muscle. The paramedics hadn’t wanted to yank it out,and they—along with Hayes—had forced him to take a ride in a damn ambulance instead going with Dawson.
Not that Dawson had too many leads.
Keaton didn’t even know if his attackers had come by water or land.
“Monty’s stable.” Emily leaned over, slapped on a glove, and pressed her finger against his leg. “I’m not the right doctor for the surgery. The bullet is too close to his heart, and he needs a specialist for that,” she said softly. “I’ll be heading back in to observe. I’ve known Monty a long time.” She glanced up, catching Keaton’s gaze. “I was in elementary school when he was the star quarterback in this town. Every girl, including me, had a crush on that man.” She smiled. “I made sure he had the best of the best. He’s in good hands.”
“Thank you for that,” Keaton said. “Now, how about making this process go faster so I get out of here? Trinity is?—”
“I’m well aware of the situation, Mr. Cole.”
“It’s Keaton.”
The doctor nodded. “We need to get that glass out, flush the wound, make sure no glass is stuck in there, and stitch you up. Then you can go.” She held up her index finger. “But I’m more worried about the fact you were knocked unconscious. I’m told you could’ve been out for well over ten minutes, and it took smelling salts to wake you.”
“It’s not my first concussion. I’m fine,” he mumbled.
“The fact that you can say that with a straight face is worrisome.” She arched a brow.
“He’s not going to sit idle.” Fletcher pushed from the wall. “I’ll keep a close eye on him, promise.”
She folded her arms. “I know from past experience there’s no arguing with you guys, but since it’s going to be at least an hour before you can walk out of this joint, you’re going to humor me by letting me do a final check on your head. Just a few questions to make sure you’re still ornery and coherent. I want to flash my light in your eyes and annoy you.”
“Sounds like a reasonable request to me.” Fletcher placed his hand on Keaton’s shoulder and squeezed. “But after that, he and I are gone, and he’s not doing it in a wheelchair. We’re not waiting for massive amounts of paperwork. He knows what ‘against medical advice’ means, and he’s been through worse in the Navy.”
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