Page 8 of Fire Island (Fire Island #2)

The cupboard to the left of the captain’s chair is open. Inside, the yellow EPIRB attached to the inner wall flashes.

Bingo.

The memory of the afternoon Cal and I were stranded on Firefly floods back in.

“They get wet,” Cal said.

“Like when you sink?” I had asked, and he responded, “Something like that.”

I can’t sink a boat, but I can jump overboard.

Cal always told potential rescues to attach the EPIRB to their person.

I need to get closer to that cupboard.

“Water,” I gasp.

Timothy turns back from where he stands by the other guy’s side.

“Please, I need water.” I hold my hands up in a plea.

“Water, you idiot, she’s no use dead,” the big guy mutters, not looking back.

I rise, unsteady on my feet, and make my way to the cabin.

Timothy goes to the cupboard beside the one I need and opens it.

A small built-in fridge fills the space.

Bottles of water and beer are stocked there.

He plucks out a bottle and tosses it at me.

It grazes my fingertips and falls to the floor.

Dropping to the ground, I take my time assessing the detachable face of the EPIRB.

Two push buttons, one on either side, are what release it.

Good to know.

Now all I have to do is wait until they fall asleep... And hope like hell they don’t take shifts staying watch overnight. I plead with the heavens that we aren’t out of Emmett’s jurisdiction when I make my move.

Big guy is on watch.

Fuck my luck six ways to Sunday.

On the other hand, maybe my powers of seduction will work a little better on him?

Who am I kidding, the thought is as ridiculous as it sounds.

Still, I sit up on the small bunk at the rear of the boat and clear my throat. Looking around as I pad toward the cabin, I see we are literally in the middle of nowhere in the ocean.

“Bad dream, sweetheart?” he drawls in a bitter tone, raking his gaze over my body.

You have no idea.

“A little,” I whisper, looking up from under my lashes.

A crooked smirk blooms over his face. The dark hair, nothing like Timothy’s, is mussed like he’s been running his hands through it. He holds a bottle.

Beer.

Maybe my luck isn’t so bad, after all.

“May I have one?” I ask, using my most innocent tone.

He raises the bottle to his lips and chugs the last few frothy mouthfuls down. “No.”

I repress the shudder that starts at the base of my spine.

“They’re in here?” I ask, pointing at the fridge.

“I said no,” he says, his gaze dragging over my body again, this time landing on my chest.

Fear sparks deep in my core, lighting every inch of my nerves.

I need him distracted. “Do you have anything to eat?”

He studies me for a beat before rolling off the seat and heading for a backpack hanging on the wall of the cabin. I duck down, thumbing the two buttons on the EPIRB. It slides off easily, and I tuck it down the back of my pants. Dislodging the knife...

Cool metal wedges its way down my right jean leg.

Fuck .

He turns back. “Chips or crac?—”

I stand up, straight, holding my breath. My stance suspicious.

“What are you up to, girlie?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I—ah, really need to go to the bathroom.”

He runs his narrowed glare over my face.

The knife slips, hitting the floor.

Fuck. No.

“Sneaky little bitch, hey.” He closes in, swiping the rusted blade from the deck. He presses it to my throat. “You wanna play, slut?”

I shake my head. No .

Crowding me against the wall of the cabin, his hot, beer-laced breath hits my face as he presses his hard body against mine. The EPIRB digs into my back. I wince. He pulls back and lowers the knife. The blade drags down my top, tugging the flimsy material past my breasts, exposing my lacy bra.

He growls, tilting his head like a madman.

I tug my top back up and the device tucked into my jeans moves, toppling from its safe hold to the deck.

God, no.

How can I be so hopeless at this?

He grabs my shirt, pressing me against the wall as he bends down and plucks up the EPIRB in one hand. The green flashing light oscillates through the small cabin, lighting our faces in a sickening shade. “Oh, now I’m just going to have fun with you,” he snarls. He tosses the device to the side.

With both hands, he grips my shoulders and throws me to the deck. I land by the EPIRB and scramble backward, fingers reaching for it. He grabs my legs, dragging me back toward him.

I kick out, snapping one of his fingers back.

“Ah! Fuck you, bitch!” he roars.

A scuffle outside on the deck tells me Timothy is awake.

I make for the EPIRB, scurry to my feet, and rush the door, bursting out onto the deck. I toss the device over the side. It hits the water with a small splash, and I hope the current doesn’t steal it too far.

“What the hell is going on?” Timothy screeches, grabbing me when I fail to put enough deck between us.

“Little bitch wants to get roughed up.” The big guy fills the cabin doorway.

“No! Get off me.” I try to hit Timothy with anything I can. My head, elbows, fists, knees. He blocks everything I send out.

Weak from days of starvation and no water, I sag against his bony frame.

“Coast Guard to Millennia, over.”

Emmett.

Emmett!

“You stupid fucking cow!” the big guy roars.

“Coast Guard to Millennia, your EPIRB activated, please respond, over.”

“Emmett!” His name is a raw desperate sound. I know he can’t hear me, but I have to do something before I fall apart.

“Fuck, just respond.” Timothy waves at the cabin. “Tell them we accidentally knocked it off the boat or something.”

“You stupid? We respond, then they know where we are!”

Um, pretty sure the EPIRB has our location pinned...

I keep my mouth clamped shut. The two men start arguing. Big guy comes out to the deck, hands flying around, accusations flying further. Timothy releases me, stepping into his space.

I make a run for the cabin. With shaking hands, I snatch up the radio. “Emmett! Help! Emmett! It’s Evie! Please help me!”

Static crackles back as the two men fly into the cabin.

“Emmett! Help! Please! It’s Eve Holland.”

“Ten-four, Miss Evie.” Static squeals. “Hold your position. I’ll be there in three minutes. Over.” His voice is thick. Stoic but tense.

It’s perfect relief.

I slide down the cupboard. The intense relief flooding me steals my will to stand.

One breath.

Two breaths.

I replay the short exchange, making sure I didn’t dream it.

Rough hands haul me from the cabin. In a sickening tumble of limbs, as the darkness spins around me, I’m tossed overboard. The growl of the engine spurs to life. The cruiser speeds out of sight. I gasp, spluttering seawater as I tread to keep afloat.

The calm of freedom washes over me with the next rolling mass of water, and I lie back and float. The stars above shimmer. I pull every good memory I’ve ever had of Callum McCreary to the surface. Closing my eyes, I beg the heavens that Emmett finds me before the EPIRB drifts too far away.

And I’m lost at sea forever.