Page 14 of Whispers and Warriors (After #2)

FOURTEEN

Wrapping her fingers around the edge of the bed succeeded only in draining the blood from them as she still pitched and rolled. The ship lurched violently, tossing her like a rag doll. Ranger whimpered beside her, his amber eyes wide with fear. He’d always hated storms. She ran a soothing hand over his sleek black coat, trying to calm him even as her heart raced. He’d never liked storms, not even in the relative insulation of the basement.

The screams from above deck had sent Chris and Liam rushing out minutes ago, their faces etched with grim determination as they’d ordered her to stay put. Emma understood their need to help, to protect the group at all costs. It was a quality she both admired and envied in the men she loved. If there ever came a day they didn’t help those in need, she wasn’t sure she’d recognize them.

As the ship pitched again, Emma gritted her teeth. She hated feeling so helpless, so useless while the others risked their lives. Ranger pressed closer to her side, his warmth a small comfort amidst the chaos even if he did it seeking comfort from her, not for her.

“I can’t just sit here,” Emma muttered. She may not have the combat skills of Chris or the navigational expertise of Liam, but she refused to be a passive bystander any longer. She wouldn’t get thrown overboard, and she was strong enough to help hold things down or whatever else they needed.

Gently disentangling herself from Ranger, she realized her knees wobbled more than she’d like to admit. “Stay here, Ranger,” she commanded softly, scratching behind his ears. “I’ll be back soon.”

Ranger whined in protest as she moved toward the door, his loyalty warring with his fear. Emma paused, her hand on the latch. She couldn’t bear the thought of him getting hurt because of her, but if things went badly, it would be easier to get Ranger if the door wasn’t shut.

“Ranger, stay.” She repeated, uncertain just how well behaved he would be.

Ranger’s tail thumped once in understanding, his eyes never leaving her face. Emma took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead. She may not be a soldier or a leader, but she was a survivor. And right now, her family needed her.

With one last nod to Ranger, Emma stepped out into the storm-tossed corridor, her stomach rolling nearly as much as the ship was.

She drove her feet into the ground, fighting against the raging storm as she walked outside. The ship’s deck transformed into wind tunnels that threatened to sweep her off her feet. Icy rain pelted her face, stinging her eyes and blurring her vision as she stumbled forward, one hand braced against the wall for support. A wall that would vanish unless she clung to the side of the ship, which she wasn’t dumb enough to do.

Within seconds the rain had drenched her, the clothing clinging to her skin. The thin fabric of her baggy shirt rendered nearly transparent by the water. A flash of self-consciousness gripped her as she realized her breasts were likely visible through the sodden material, but she pushed the thought aside. They were tapped down, so if someone saw anything, it would be the bandage and she could pass it off as broken ribs.

Every step was harder than the one before as the water continued to drown her and weigh down her clothes. She brushed a hand over her eyes, trying to remove the water blurring her vision, her fingers numb from the biting cold leaving unable to do the task.

As she rounded a corner, the dim glow of the moon cast eerie shadows on everything. A dark figure materialized from the darkness, like a wraith emerging from the underworld. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat and her instincts screamed at her to run. Though shrouded in the shadows, he seemed taller than Bash.

He lashed a hand out, grabbing her wrist before she could process moving out of the way. His intentions became clear in the tense set of his shoulders and the predatory glint in his eyes. She could practically feel his hunger for something sinister and her body tensed, ready for a fight-or-flight response. The air grew thick with tension as they stood facing each other, neither making a move but both aware of the danger that hung between them like a heavy fog.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the howling wind. “What do we have here? A little lost lamb?”

He took a step forward, his gaze raking over Emma’s body with a hunger that made her skin crawl. She instinctively took a step back despite his hold, her eyes darting for an escape route, but the chaos of the storm would only lead her to slip.

“Stay back,” Emma warned, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to sound firm. “I don’t want any trouble.”

The man laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed off the metal walls. “Trouble’s already found you. And I’m sure not one to pass up a golden opportunity.”

His eyes widened as he tried to tug her closer, a leering grin splitting his face as he ran a hand down her chest. “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re a woman! And here I thought this ship was a boys’ club. No matter, I’m not picky.”

Emma’s hand flew to her head, realizing with a sinking feeling that her hat had been lost to the storm. Her hair, now exposed, left no doubt as to her gender. She cursed inwardly, her mind racing for a way out of this nightmare.

His intentions were written in the cruel twist of his lips. Emma’s back hit a side of the ship, the coldness a shock against her skin. She was trapped, alone, and utterly vulnerable as everyone else was focused on the storm. A wave crashed over them, stinging her with frigid water that burned her eyes but thankfully hadn’t gotten in her mouth to choke her.

Not again. I refuse.

She took a deep breath, her fingers curling into fists at her sides, ready to face the oncoming threat with the same resilience that had carried her through the apocalypse. She may be battered and bruised, but she was far from broken. And she would not go down without a fight.

As the man’s big hands reached for her, Emma lashed out with a strength she didn’t know she possessed, her fist connecting with a satisfying crunch to his nose. His grip faltered, but only momentarily. She knew she had mere seconds before he regained his grip on her. She quickly brought up her knee, slamming it against his balls, but despite their close contact, he only chuckled.

“A real man can handle that. Likes it.”

His hand came down in a vicious slap across Emma’s face before she could react. Pain exploded in her cheek but she refused to give him the satisfaction of crying out.

Instead, she gritted her teeth and lashed out with all of her strength once again. This time, however, it wasn’t enough. The man easily overpowered her and pinned her arms above her head with one hand and let the other begin to move down her body.

“Let me go!” Emma struggled against his hold but he only laughed cruelly as his hand began to rub between her legs. Another swell of terror rolled through her, vomit dislodging quickly, but still not deterring the man.

“While disgusting as fuck, I haven’t seen a woman in months. You’re mine now.” He knocked her down, somehow protecting her head. “I’m going to enjoy the hell out of this.” His body covered hers, his disgusting erection grinding against her.

This wasn’t like with Marcus. This man wasn’t cocky or in control. He was wild and aggressive. His hands cupped her breasts she hadn’t even realized he’d freed.

A growl cut through the storm’s fury and the man collapsed against her with a scream.

Another snarl and she saw Ranger to her left, fangs exposed before he jumped again, his teeth sinking into her assailant’s arm. The man howled in pain, his grip on Emma loosening as he grappled with the enraged dog, but he didn’t let go.

The man crumpled, his face contorted in agony, but his hand still groped at Emma’s breasts, his other hand clawing at her thigh. Revulsion surged through her, mingling with a white-hot rage. She thought of Marcus, of the life she’d taken to protect her own, and a part of her whispered that she could do it again.

But before she could act on that dark impulse, a familiar figure burst into the fray.

Bash was there, his eyes blazing with fury. In a second he’d wrenched the man away from Emma, his powerful arms sending the assailant crashing into the opposite wall. He rushed him, slamming his head into the man’s chest as a way to lift him and throw him over the side, likely to his death.

“Emma!” Bash’s voice was raw with concern as he gathered her into his arms, his touch gentle despite the urgency of his movements. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, clinging to him as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. But even as she pressed her face into his chest, seeking the comfort of his strength, the usual sense of safety eluded her.

The violation, the helplessness, it shook her to her core.

Bash’s grip tightened, his breath hot against her ear. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart. You’re safe.”

He carried her swiftly across the rain-lashed deck, his strides barely affected by the storm. Emma’s heart raced, her body trembling against his solid frame. She’d faced dangers before, but this time was different, more personal, more violating.

“Good boy, Ranger. Keep up now. We’re getting you both back to safety.”

As they neared the cabin, Bash’s voice rose above the storm’s din. “Liam! Liam, get over her!”

The urgency in his tone, the way his muscles tensed beneath her, spoke volumes about the depth of his concern. He shouldered open the door, the warm light of the cabin spilling out to meet them.

“What happened?” Liam’s voice, laced with worry, greeted them as Bash carried Emma inside.

But Emma barely heard him, her mind still reeling from the attack, from the knowledge that even in this sanctuary, danger lurked. She clung to Bash, her anchor in the storm, even as a part of her wondered if she’d ever truly feel safe again.

The door slammed shut behind them, the lock clicking into place with a finality that did little to ease Emma’s racing heart. Bash gently lowered her onto the bed, his hands lingering on her shoulders as if reluctant to let her go.

“Fuck,” Liam hissed before vanishing.

Emma drew in a shuddering breath, and when she opened her eyes, all five of them were there. She didn’t know where they’d all come from, but they were all inside. Chris stood rigid, his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. Liam hovered nearby, his hands balled into fists at his sides. Alex and William flanked the door, their stances alert, ready for any threat that might come their way.

The tension in the air was palpable, a living, breathing creature that seemed to press in on them from all sides. Emma shivered, the dampness of her clothes and the chill of her fear seeping into her bones.

“What the hell happened out there? Why weren’t you in this damn room?” Chris demanded, his voice a low growl.

Bash met his gaze, his own eyes hard. “One of the crew attacked her. Tried to force himself on her. If Ranger hadn’t been there...”

He trailed off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Emma swallowed hard, her fingers curling into the bedsheets. “I thought I could help,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to be useless.”

“You’re not useless,” Liam said fiercely, dropping to his knees beside the bed. He took her hand in his, his touch gentle despite the anger that radiated off him in waves. “But you’re not expendable either, Emma. We can’t lose you.”

Chris paced the small confines of the cabin, his movements tightly controlled, but Emma could see the rage simmering beneath the surface. She knew him well enough to recognize the signs, the way his disciplined nature warred with the more ruthless side of him that emerged in times of crisis.

“This ends now,” he said, his voice dangerously calm. “I’m going to have a word with the captain.”

“Chris—” Alex started, but Chris was already moving, his hand on the door.

“No,” he snapped, his eyes flashing. “This is my responsibility. I brought us on this ship, and I’ll be damned if I let anyone threaten what’s mine.”

With that, he wrenched open the door and strode out into the storm, his figure quickly swallowed by the driving rain. Emma stared after him, her heart in her throat, fear and love warring within her. She knew the lengths Chris would go to protect her, to protect all of them, and a part of her feared for the man who had attacked her, for the retribution he would face at Chris’s hands.

But another part of her, the part that still trembled with the memory of rough hands and cruel intentions, couldn’t find it in herself to care. She leaned into Liam’s touch, into the solid warmth of Bash beside her, and prayed that this nightmare would soon be over.

Liam shifted, gave her a kiss on the head, and gestured for Alex to follow him out.

She wasn’t certain what they would do, but she was grateful Bash hadn’t done worse to the man, even if throwing him overboard was a death sentence, he hadn’t resorted to beating him to a pulp first.

The storm continued to outside, the howling winds and crashing waves a fitting backdrop to the tumultuous emotions swirling within Chris. He stalked through the narrow corridors of the ship, his mind racing with the implications of what they had just discovered. Whoever the fuck had touched Emma was likely dead knowing Bash was the one who saw them and put a stop to it.

Chris stalked across the ship’s deck, his boots pounding against the metal grating as the storm raged around him. The fury that had been simmering beneath his skin since the moment he’d seen Emma’s terrified face now boiled over, consuming him with a single-minded focus. He would find the captain, and he would get answers, one way or another.

He burst onto the bridge, his eyes immediately locking onto the captain’s startled face. The man stumbled back, his hands raised in a placating gesture, but Chris was beyond reason. He crossed the space between them in two long strides, slamming the captain against the wall with a snarl.

“What the hell is going on here?” he growled, his face inches from the captain’s. “What’s the real purpose of this ship? I understood privacy, but someone just attacked my unit. All bets are off.”

Carnie’s eyes were wide with fear, darting between Chris’s face and the gleaming barrel of the gun now pressed against his temple. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stammered, his voice barely audible over the howling wind.

Chris’s finger tightened on the trigger, his jaw clenched with barely controlled rage. “Don’t lie to me,” he hissed, his voice low and deadly. “I know there’s more to this than just a simple transport. What are you really transporting?”

The captain’s mouth worked soundlessly, his face pale and slick with sweat. Chris could practically smell the fear rolling off him in waves, and a dark part of him reveled in it. This man, this coward, had allowed one of his passengers to be attacked, had put Emma in danger. He deserved to suffer.

But before he could make good on that unspoken promise, the door to the bridge burst open once more, and Liam and Alex spilled inside, their faces tight with worry.

“Chris!” Liam shouted, his hand outstretched in a calming gesture. “Don’t do this. This isn’t the way. Answers first, then beat his ass.”

Chris didn’t take his eyes off the captain, didn’t loosen his grip on the man’s collar. “He knows something,” he bit out, his voice rough with barely contained violence. “He’s going to tell us what it is.”

Alex stepped forward, his own hand coming to rest on Chris’s arm. “We’ll get answers,” he said softly, his voice a soothing counterpoint to Chris’s fury. “But not like this. We’re better than this, Chris. Emma needs us to be better than this.”

At the mention of Emma’s name, Chris some of the rage drain out of him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. He knew Alex was right, knew that he couldn’t let his anger control him, not when Emma was counting on him to keep them all safe.

With a final, disgusted look at the captain, he released his grip, letting the man slump against the wall in a boneless heap. He turned to face his brothers, his shoulders slumping with the weight of responsibility.

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