Page 35 of Player

His fist connects with my good eye. I stumble back like he’s the next Conor McGregor. Yeah, I played him like a fine fiddle. Now his song is about to come to an end. Despite my best intentions, I hear myself say, “Go mbrise an diabhal do dhá chois.”

“He’s cursing you to the devil, mate.”

I reach in my pocket, retrieve a white brick, then toss it on deck. “Captain’s cabin is yonder ...” I gesture to the general vicinity, “and he’s got drawers full of them.”

Time stands still with everyone frozen. Mobsters. Crewmates. Cap. What it feels like in this moment is that I tossed a lifeless head into the mix of things.

Maybe I did.

“No shite?” the mob boss asks.

I nod.

Cap launches himself at me, but I neatly sidestep him. “You motherfucking snoop. You. Are. Dead.”

“Liam. Bring the ship to port, will you.”

“On it.”

The mob boss rolls up his sleeves, then bends, scoops up the brick, and smashes it down onto poor ol’ Cap’s head.

Cap goes down.

They haul him up, drag him over to the railing, and toss his drug-smuggling, uranium dealing body overboard.

“Show us his cabin,” the mob boss demands, eyes on me.

Jaysus.

Quickly, I mutter, “Did you have to kill him?” I follow this by placing a hand over my mouth like I’m going to hurl.

“We’ll show you,” a crew mate offers.

I wait and count to ten. Wanting to clear the deck with minimal casualties. Can’t have the authorities investigating multiple homicides—myself and the mob will be on our merry way by the time anyone gets courageous enough to confess why the Cap is missing.

“Let’s find out if what he says is true. Leave him.”

I stay, crouched over and pretending to dry heave, until the footsteps have faded.

With long strides, I rush over to Clarissa, catching her fiddling with her cell phone. I grab hold of her arm. “Time to fly the coop.”

“Leave?”

“Disappear. Or you planning on dining with the Irish mob?”

“So, you’re simply going to allow them to pirate the ship?”

“Looks that way. I’ll be alive to say it’s so.”

She taps the container with her hand. “What about this?”

“If they kill you, would it matter?”

She makes a face.

I sigh. “Leave it to me, will you?” I look around, quickly running through our options and coming up short. When my attention finally settles on her is when an idea strikes.

“Maine is the land of lakes, right?”