Page 20 of Anchor (First to Fight)
“Not a fan, huh?”
“Not when it comes to my life, no.” I peer through cabinet doors and continue my search, making sure to keep from disturbing the snoring captain. “Staying in the hospital just pisses me off.”
“Do you end up in the hospital often?” she asks.
I glance over from my inspection of the radio. The smile teasing at her lips makes the response to her question dry up right in my throat.
She raises her eyebrows. “Well?” Her voice is colored with repressed laughter.
For the slightest moment, I wish we’d met under different circumstances. I wish there were a different reason she was smiling and laughing at me. If we were anywhere else, she’d be a woman I’d like to get to know—both in the sheets and out of them.
Because my eyes are still on her smiling mouth, I notice when the smile melts from her lips and then from her gaze. Giving myself a shake, I clear my throat. “More than I like,” I say in answer to her earlier question.
She turns away to hide her reaction, but I see her widening eyes and firm lips in response to my frigid tone. Her shoulders stiffen and she straightens, losing what little rapport we shared. I turn away while she does, even though I want to do the opposite. It’s better for the both of us if I don’t encourage any connection.
I conclude my search of the cabin while the silence between us grows, then I tell her, “We don’t have much time before he gets back. I will radio my man on shore for an update and see what we can do about getting everyone out of here without getting them killed.”
She nods, but keeps her mouth shut and her attention on the water in front of her.
I punch the buttons on the radio with more force than necessary. Dead air greets my response for a few strained heartbeats.
Then Tyler’s sarcastic and reassuring, voice says, “I’m glad you didn’t get yourself killed, punk.”
My shoulders slump and I slouch into the dash with my head leaning onto my hand. When I speak, my voice is as soft as it can be and still be heard over the scratchy radio connection. “Damn good to hear your voice, old man,” I tell Tyler.
His chuckle is familiar and welcome. “Bit of a clusterfuck you’ve gotten yourself into,” he says.
“Well, you know how I attract trouble.”
“Crazy son-of-a-bitch,” he mutters. “You’re gonna have hell to pay if you do get back here in one piece. Stevens is going on a rampage.”
“Tell me something new,” I say. “Does he have a plan or are they floundering?”
“They’ve got a negotiator, but so far no luck connecting with your guy.”
“No shit? I heard he won’t talk to anyone but me. Any lead on what that’s about?”
“None so far, but trust me, I’m working on it. Pissed anyone off lately?”
“Guess we’ll find out. But I want to get as many hostages off here before our guy gets trigger happy and I have a feeling he won’t be pleased when he finds me here, which will happen sooner or later.” I pause while I consider my options. “Think Stevens will go for sending rescue teams to intercept?”
“How do you plan to convince the kidnapper to go for it?”
“He doesn’t have to know I’m here…yet. If we could get him to head toward the teams without knowing they’ll be there waiting, the element of surprise may work in our favor.”
“And if not?”
“If not, I’ll offer myself as a bargaining chip.”
Chloe, who’s been silent during our conversation, gasps beside me. It’s a small sound and if the wheelhouse wasn’t so quiet because we are trying not to draw any attention to ourselves, I wouldn’t have heard it. But since I do, since I can’t help but notice her presence so close, I turn to look at her.
She’s working her lip with her teeth. The bottom one is blood-red from constant attention. I don’t think she realizes it, but she’s shaking her head in barely noticeable twitches.
To Tyler, I say, “If you can convince Stevens to go along with it, have them meet us.” I rattle off a location not far from where we are.
“I’ll do what I can,” Tyler says. “You be smart. Selene will skin me alive if something happens to you.”
“I will,” I say. And I hope I’m right.