Page 4 of Stone Cold Bad (Stone Brothers #1)

All I saw was the ugly lump on Ray’s head as he lunged at me and grabbed hold of my throat.

The only thing he needed to look more rabid was foam frothing from his mouth.

I was a dead woman. I couldn’t breathe. Panic set in as his fingers squeezed my neck, blocking my air passage.

I backed up and he followed. Tears burned my eyes.

I clawed at his arm, leaving long thin trails of blood as my fingernails took skin.

“I was good to you, and this is how you repay me?” he sneered.

The dark fog in my head was much blacker than the surrounding air. I was losing consciousness. My eyes darted toward the bar hoping to see someone come out. But the lights on the marina were shrouded by fog. It would have been hard to see two figures struggling on the pier.

I had never been afraid of dying, but having Ray take pleasure in it was too much. I didn’t want to die by his hand. With my last bit of strength and clarity, I swung my leg up. It landed between Ray’s legs, and my knee slammed his balls. Before doubling over in agony, he shoved me hard.

I coughed and gasped for air as I fell back.

My head smacked the edge of the dock as I rolled into the water.

Icy saltwater made me suck in a sharp breath again.

My air passages were swollen. I desperately sucked in the cold night air, all the while trying to stay above the surface.

The water swirled black and frigid around me.

Somewhere in the fall, I’d lost my backpack.

I heard Ray cussing from above. I ducked under the water and swam around the boats.

The ocean was scary enough in broad daylight, but in the shroud of a foggy night, it was terrifying.

I had to push away the idea that sea creatures with jagged teeth and long stingers were watching me from the shadowy depths.

The lack of oxygen and the icy water slowed my arms and legs down as if I was moving through tar.

Ray was stomping along the pier. I could hear him, but I couldn’t see him.

I was sure the boats and fog were hiding me too.

Gritty salt water smacked me in the face.

I sucked some in and started coughing again.

I covered my mouth to stifle the sound, but treading water with one numb arm wasn’t easy.

I grabbed onto a rope ladder that was hanging off the back of a weathered looking trawler.

My fingers were so numb, I could barely feel the rough rope beneath them.

I was shivering so hard my teeth clacked together and my entire body shook. My neck ached as if it had been wrung out like a wet towel. If I hadn’t kicked the bastard in the balls, I would be dead, floating in the water, waiting to become fish food.

Ray had been a handsome, charismatic twenty-four-year-old when he’d pulled me from the streets.

I was a teenage runaway with no home, no money and no hopes of ever seeing my adult years.

He was making good money at what I later found out was an illegal bookmaking business.

But even when I discovered his secret, it hadn’t bothered me.

People weren’t being hurt or killed by his business.

The only crime was people losing their money on crappy bets.

I figured I was no one to judge. I’d had to do a lot of shitty things myself to stay alive.

But it wasn’t long before I discovered the sinister side of Ray’s business, the ugly consequences when someone didn’t pay up.

And as Ray’s business grew, his temper and propensity for violence grew with it.

When the drinking grew out of control, I knew it was time for me to get away from him for good.

I clung to the rope ladder, hiding myself beneath the shadow of the fishing boat.

The choppy current smacked me up against the hull more than once, but I was almost too numb to feel it.

A weird, sleepy feeling pushed down on my skull as if it was a heavy hand trying to shove me beneath the water.

For a second, my eyes drifted shut. They felt too heavy to open.

A splash of seawater in my face shocked me awake again. My body temperature was dropping. I knew if a stayed in the water, I would eventually lose consciousness.

I’d lost track of Ray’s footsteps. The ladder hung off the side near the stern.

I hoped the fog would cloak me enough. The thin cotton sweatshirt was amazingly heavy when it was soaked with water.

My feet, still tucked in the boots and sloshing in their own pools of water, managed to find the bottom rung.

With all my strength, I hoisted myself out of the water.

I glanced around. A quiet boat marina was an eerie sight on a foggy night.

The coast line was completely obliterated by the silvery haze.

It felt like I was on a strange planet all by myself.

Since they’d all gone to sleep for the night, even the usual clatter of seabirds was missing.

I couldn’t hear any music or voices coming from Bootlegger’s.

In my exhausted state of agony, my mind floated back to him, the man who’d dragged me into the utility closet. He and his brothers were pounding Ray’s men, men who were known for being ruthless and brutal. But they sure couldn’t stand up to the three brothers.

I pulled myself onto the deck. The trembling was almost uncontrollable now.

I stumbled around looking for something to protect myself with in case Ray spotted me.

It was obvious he wasn’t going to be satisfied until he killed me.

There was a metal tool box bolted to the wall below the pilot house.

I opened it and reached in for the first thing I saw, a deadly sharp fillet knife.

I walked around behind the pilot house, back to where the nets were piled. They looked surprisingly neat and new compared to the rest of the boat, as if they’d hardly ever been used.

I scrunched down into a ball, shielded by the wall behind me and the pile of nets in front of me.

Soaked through to the bone, I doubted I would be able to stop the shivering, but at least I was out of the water.

I gripped the knife in my numb fingers and hugged myself tightly.

The heavy, unnatural groggy feeling overtook me again.

I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.