Page 81 of A Cock and Bull Story

“I think we have more important things to focus on, but if you must know. . . I’m sulking because Elise and Sian got off, and I didn’t,” I admit.

“What are you talking about?” Sian frowns. “We all got off.”

“I can promise you that I didn’t!”

“Hun, how can you say that?” Elise chimes in.

Jude holds up a hand.

“Belle—to get off means to snog and fondle someone.”

“And snogging is kissing,” Arthur further elucidates.

I let their words sink in and just tip my head back and laugh.

“Well, don’t go to America and tell people how you ‘got off’—that means ‘you came’ over there.”

The tiny car packed with bodies falls silent before we all erupt into peals of laughter.

“Another time, we’ll ‘get off’ your way,” Sian promises, and I shudder.

I look forward to that day.

“So, where south is this ship going?” I toss out, bringing us back on topic.

“Dunno,” Sian shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter because we’re going to jump ship, anyway,” Jude announces.

I almost swallow my tongue.

“I hope that’s another idiom I don’t understand,” I grimace.

“Not at all,” Jude denies. “Sian’s cousin can get us on the ship, but the Tershes will still be able to track us to the docks and look up what ship left port. But, if we jump ship—and either swim or get on another—we can buy ourselves some more time. It will be harder for the Tertiaries to find water shifters to help them track us.”

“Harder, but not impossible,” Arthur counters.

“I know, but it will help us buy some time until we can disappear completely,” Jude responds.

“And how are we going to ever ‘completely disappear’?” I ask.

No one answers me.

We fall into a tense silence.

The drive to the docks takes about an hour—Jack drives like a madman, but he gets us there in one piece.

“There!” Sian cries. “There’s our ship! Harri said to mention his name when we board is all.”

“Sounds too easy,” I whisper.

This is the part in the story where the bad guys always catch the good guys and slit their throats.

A hand flies to my neck at the thought—I have no desire to become Nearly Headless Nick.

And what if the tiger misses my throat and gets my tits instead?!

I’ll be Boobless Belle—forever forced to wear baggy shirts with a neckline up to my ears.