Terrors of the High Seas - DK6

by Melissa Good

  Dar approached the docks and swung around to the larger ones. She could see a cluster of people waiting at the empty slip they’d been assigned, and she thought she saw medical personnel.

  The waves were rushing up against the docks, breaking over them and dousing the watchers. Ordinarily, she would have let the boat drift gently in, but the tide was running the wrong way. Dar swung the boat into line, then set the engines into reverse, allowing the water to pull them very grudgingly into the slip. The dockmasters had already thrown bumpers over the side, and she skillfully maneuvered into place until her hull just touched them.

  Two of the men on the dock hopped on board and grabbed their lines. Dar cut the engines and sat back, cocking her head and giving her father a questioning look. “Better than when I was ten?”

  Andy ruffled her damp hair affectionately. “Good job,” he complimented seriously. “You’da made a damn good sailor, Dar.”

  Dar crossed her arms and smiled. “Thanks.” She glanced behind her. “Guess we’d better get moving. Kerry and I have a room up at one of the hotels, if it’s still open in this mess. We can probably get you in there.” She stood up and eased around the console chair.

  “Ah do think Ah can scrabble up my own bunk,” Andrew remarked. “Let’s get Bud and Charlie settled down first off, and git that cowardly pissant off’n this boat, then find us some shelter.”

  That sounded very good to Dar. Some place dry, and quiet, and ideally supplied with lots of ice cream.

  332 Melissa Good KERRY HAD FINALLY dozed off, nestled into the bed in their bedroom on the Dixie. She hadn’t thought she’d be able to sleep, owing to the boat’s motion and the stress of the day, but her body had simply taken over and demanded she close her eyes and shut out the world for a while.

  Her dreams were formless. She kept seeing fireworks, as though replaying the Fourth of July in her mind, over and over again. Finally, the last cracker went off and the faceless crowd around her faded away, their clamor slowly morphing to a sound of clinking that beckoned her toward consciousness.

  She opened her eyes, gazing at her surroundings in momentary confusion before memory kicked in. “Urmf.” Kerry rubbed her face and rolled over, missing Dar’s presence. She spent a moment wondering where her partner was, then realized the boat was relatively still and the engines were off.

  “Jesus. We must be in dock.” Kerry rolled out of the bed and straightened, holding on to the chest of drawers for balance as the Dixie rolled with the waves. “Why the hell didn’t she come get me?”

  She flipped on the lamp and stretched, feeling aches along the entire length of her body. Her arms hurt. Kerry leaned against the drawers and flexed her hands. They were stiff and felt slightly swollen, and there were bruises across the heels and knuckles of both. For a brief moment, her stomach churned at the thought of how she had pounded DeSalliers against the floor of the cabin, and then she had a flash of how Dar’s hands had looked after Dar had saved her from a pack of scrungy carjackers—painfully bruised, but in a good cause.

  Kerry lifted her head and gazed into the dimness of the stateroom. “You know what, Stuart?” she addressed herself. “You don’t have a damn thing to be sorry about. That guy was a scum-sucking, whore pig, and he deserved to have his clock cleaned.”

  As the echo of the words died away, she felt a little better. She twitched her shirt straight and ran her fingers through her hair, then slipped into the head. It was quiet on the boat. As she splashed water on her face, she listened for sounds of Dar’s presence.

  Hearing the cabin door open, she stuck her head out, a smile appearing as she spotted her lover entering. “Hey.”

  Dar pushed back the hood of her slicker and walked over to Kerry. “Hey.”

  “What did I sleep through?”

  “Some brilliant maneuvering on my part,” Dar said. “How are you feeling? I didn’t want to wake you up.”

  “Better,” Kerry announced briskly. “What’s our plan now? Stay here?”

  “We can’t. That damn storm’s due here in two hours and they’re evacuating the marina. Winds are up to seventy miles per Terrors of the High Seas 333

  hour, and I’m damn glad we’re tied up.” Dar rubbed Kerry’s back.

  “Dad went up to the hotel with Charlie and Bud.”

  “Oh.”

  “I kicked Bob off the boat.”

  “Ah.” Kerry nodded slowly. “You think the cops are still looking for him?”

  Dar fiddled with the edge of her shirt, refusing to meet Kerry’s eyes in the mirror. “I’m not really interested in finding out.”

  “Mm.” Kerry drew in a breath and released it. “So, are we going up to the hotel, too?”

  “Would you like that?” Dar asked. “Is that what you want to do?”

  It seemed to Kerry that was a strange question. She finished brushing her teeth and rinsed out her mouth, then turned and faced her partner. “You know what I want to do?”she asked Dar, who had been standing and patiently waiting for her.

  “What?”

  “Be with you,” Kerry replied simply.

  Dar smiled and nodded. “Right back at you.”

  “You look really tired.” The blonde woman brushed a bit of Dar’s hair out of her bloodshot eyes. “Let’s go find us a nice bed on dry land.”

  “I am really tired,” Dar admitted. “And, um…” she shifted slightly, “sore. I think I twisted a couple of things in the fight.”

  Kerry could see the drawn lines in her lover’s face. “You sure you don’t want to get yourself checked out up at the hospital?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Nah.” Dar dismissed the idea. “They’ll have more real injuries to deal with than they can handle right now. I just need some rest, and maybe some aspirin,” she said. “And you.”

  “And that Jacuzzi,” Kerry reminded her. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

  Dar put her arm around Kerry’s shoulders, and they headed out into the storm.

  As they entered the hotel lobby, they were greeted with the sight of a mass of humanity, jostling for space. “Jesus, I hope they kept our room,” Kerry whispered.

  Dar shouldered their overnight bag. “Me, too.” She nudged Kerry toward the stairs. “Let’s go find out. If they did, I have a feeling Dad might be sleeping on the couch in there.”

  Kerry followed Dar as they climbed the stairs and made the turn toward their room. The upstairs hallway was busy also, and they had to edge past several groups of arguing people to get to the end of it. Dar removed the key from her jeans pocket and tried it, opening the door cautiously and sticking her head inside. She was met with silence.

  Dar flipped on the light and entered, waiting for Kerry to 334 Melissa Good follow her before she closed the door after them and leaned against it. “This room isn’t moving, is it?”

  Kerry explored the room briefly, then returned to take the bag from Dar’s hands. “Thank God, no.” She unbuckled her rain jacket and removed it. “Those windows look kind of scar…oh.” She’d drawn aside the drapes to reveal wood planking protecting the plate glass. “Nifty. They work fast.”

  “You get used to it after a while,” Dar remarked, removing her rain gear and trudging over to the bed. She collapsed onto it and lay there looking up at the ceiling. “Getting ready for storms, I mean. Especially out here.”

  “Yeah, I guess you would.” Kerry let the drapes close. “Will the boat be all right out in the marina?”

  Dar’s eyes were closed. “As much as it would be anywhere,”

  she said. “They’ve got it tied down and bolstered pretty good. I feel bad for those little guys they don’t have space for.”

  Kerry set the bag down, opened it, and pulled out their pajamas. She set them on the table and walked over to the bed, sat down and picked up one of Dar’s feet. “What will they do?” She rested the foot on her knee and started to unlace the sneaker.

  “You don’t want to do that. They’re wet,” Dar warned her.

 
; Kerry shot her an amused look. “And?”

  “You know what wet sneakers and socks smell like.”

  “Like our dog when she gets wet. Yes, honey, I do.” Kerry pulled off the sneaker and then the damp sock under it. “What’s your point?” She tickled the bottom of Dar’s foot and felt the leg under her hands twitch.

  Dar just smiled.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be able to get room service right now,” Kerry went on, putting Dar’s foot down and picking up the other one. “I’m going to see what they left us here in our palatial abode besides rum.”

  “That works too,” Dar murmured. “But it’s better over ice cream.”

  Kerry rubbed Dar’s ankle, feeling the joint flex under her touch. “Isn’t everything?” She tossed the footgear toward the door, and kicked off her own. Then she eased down onto her side next to Dar and started working on the top button of her lover’s jeans.

  “You know, something really profound just occurred to me.”

  Dar rolled her head to one side and opened an eye. “What’s that?”

  “Button fly jeans are much sexier than zippered ones,” Kerry told her seriously.

  A tired snicker shook Dar’s belly.

  “No, really.” As she undid the second button, Kerry examined Dar’s waist. “Think about it. With zippers, you undo one, then Terrors of the High Seas 335

  boop! It’s done. This way, you have to take your time.”

  “Kerry, I think you’re overtired,” Dar advised.

  “Hey, I got a nap. You didn’t.” Kerry smiled and continued her task. “It’s like gloves.”

  “Gloves?”

  “Yeah. Back in the days when women wore gloves, like the ones that went all the way up your arm.” Kerry glanced over, seeing an obviously puzzled expression on Dar’s face. “C’mon, Dar, you watch the History Channel. Don’t give me that what-the-heckis-the-WASP-talking-about-now look.”

  Dar’s brow scrunched. “Oh.” She rubbed her temple. “You mean the evening dress things.”

  “Right,” Kerry agreed. “They had buttons all the way up, and they even had little hook things they used to button them. It was considered very sexy back then to watch a woman take off a kid leather glove. Some of them had a hundred buttons.”

  There was a stretch of silence as Dar contemplated that.

  “Really?”

  “Uh huh.” Kerry undid the last button and plucked at the waistband of Dar’s underwear. “You know something else?”

  “You’re glad you were born in the latter half of the twentieth century after gloves went out of style?” Dar suggested. “Because if I had to wait for you to unbutton a hundred buttons, I’d come after you with a pair of leather cutters.”

  Kerry chortled and leaned her head against Dar’s hip.

  “Well, I would,”Dar insisted.

  “I bet you never sucked your Tootsie Pop down to the chocolate center, did you?” Kerry continued the playfulness. “You chewed it.”

  “No,” Dar replied with a dignified sniff. “I just bought Tootsie Rolls to begin with.”

  Kerry squirmed up a little and started working on Dar’s shirt.

  “I knew that.” She watched the gentle rise and fall of Dar’s chest under her hand. The wind outside rattled the wooden shutters against the building, and they could hear a rumble through the walls. “Are we safe here?”

  Dar glanced around the room. “This place has been here for a hundred years,” she stated. “I think we’re fine.”

  “Okay.” Kerry laid Dar’s shirt open and put gentle fingers on the bruises mottling her chest. “Are you hurting, sweetheart?” Her tone went from playful to serious. “You’re kinda scraped up here.”

  “I’m too tired to hurt right now,” Dar admitted. “Maybe later I will be.” She sat up slowly and stripped off her shirt, then stood up to remove her jeans. “You joining me in this strip show, or are you snoozing in your clothes?”

  “You think we’re going to get a chance to sleep?” Kerry 336 Melissa Good remained where she was, watching Dar cross the room in her underwear to put her now-folded clothing near their bag. The soft lamplight erased the marks of the fight from her body and rendered it in golden shadows for Kerry’s appreciative eyes. She loved the strength of her, the grace and solid power evident in every move.

  Nothing about Dar was for show. It was all real, and all functional.

  And all hers.

  Kerry smiled to herself at the thought. She spared a moment to revel in the knowledge of what it felt like to love someone like this and to be loved to the very core. It was a true gift and she knew it, and in that one moment, it humbled her.

  “God, I hope so,” Dar sighed as she pulled on her pajamas. She turned and looked at Kerry, sprawled on the bed in casual disarray.

  “I’ve had enough adventures for today.” She peered closer at the woman watching her. “Ker?”

  It was like wading through the mists of time. Kerry suddenly sensed the depth of what was between them, sensed the ancientness of it and heard the faint echoes from lives beyond their own. It was weird, and scary, and her eyes widened as she stared into Dar’s.

  Curious, Dar came over to her and sat on the bed. “Ker?” she repeated, her brow furrowing with concern. “You okay?”

  Kerry took a breath. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Just had some weird déjà vu thing happen,” she said. “I think it’s been too long a day for both of us.”

  Dar patted her cheek. “Get undressed, and let’s hope the storm doesn’t...”she paused as the lights flickered, then went out

  “...knock the power out,” she finished. Dar sighed as she turned and peered around the pitch black room. “Shoulda gotten out candles. What a bonehead move that was.”

  “I’ve got a flashlight in the bag.” Kerry chuckled wearily, rolling off the bed and getting to her feet. She felt her way over to the table, fished it out and turned it on. “Are there candles in the room somewhere?”

  Dar joined her, took the light, and made her way over to the cabinet that held the television. She poked inside and discovered a few hurricane candles, some that had apparently been previously put into use. “Here.”

  Kerry took the candles, lit them, and placed them around the room in strategic places. By candlelight, the interior took on a new look, the tiny flickering flames bouncing shadows off the ceiling and lending a quaintness to the old-fashioned bed. Kerry found the courtesy bar by accident, and raided it after she changed into her pajamas.

  Dar listened to Kerry rummaging for a moment, then brought a last candle over to the bed and set it on the bedside table. She pulled down the top sheet and got into bed, fluffing up the pillows Terrors of the High Seas 337

  and settling back against them.

  Kerry appeared from the shadows shortly thereafter, her pale hair now dry and collecting glints of the candlelight as she joined her partner. She handed Dar a mug and set a basket of goodies between them. Then she crawled into bed and relaxed, letting out a heartfelt sigh.

  Outside, the storm continued to rage. They could hear things slamming against the windows, and far off, the sound of sirens.

  “Dar?” Kerry asked suddenly. “What do you think happened to DeSalliers?”

  Dar sipped from her mug, finding an agreeable mixture of rum and pineapple juice. “You mean out there?”

  Kerry broke a cookie in half and put a portion into Dar’s mouth. “Yeah.”

  It would be easy to say she didn’t know. Anyone would believe her, given the chaos they’d been through. She could just shrug. She could give a non-answer. She could even say she didn’t care.

  However… Dar chewed her cookie and swallowed before she answered. “I think he drowned,” she said in a quiet tone. “We went off the ship together just before it capsized.” She licked her lips and looked up into the candlelit shadows around them. “I was doing my best to choke him at the time.”

  Kerry hitched herself up on her elbow and peered down at her partner. “W
hy?” she asked. “What was he doing to you?

  “Wanted to kill me,” Dar said. “He had a gun…” The sublime irony hit her. “But it wasn’t loaded. The poor bastard couldn’t even get that right.”

  “So you got mad.”

  Dar nodded. “I saw red,” she admitted. “Or blue, or whatever it is you’re supposed to see when you’re so mad that you lose your mind.”

  Kerry laid back down. “So we have something in common.” She lifted one hand and examined the knuckles, the bruises vivid against her skin. “Does that feel ugly to you, Dar?”

  Dar looked into the eyes of her soul and smiled. “No.”

  Kerry nibbled on her cookie thoughtfully. “Really?”

  Dar considered pretending otherwise. She decided she was just too damn tired. “Really,” she repeated. “I guess it should, but he was a bastard and he was trying to kill me.” She put her hands behind her head and winced as her shoulder popped into place. “I guess it’s that old ‘fight or flight’ thing.”

  Kerry studied the ceiling. “Have you ever run from anything in your life, Dar?”

  Her partner remained silent for a very long moment. “No,” she finally said, a note of surprise in her voice. “I almost ran from love once.” Her eyes shifted to Kerry’s profile. “But you tripped me up 338 Melissa Good in time.”

  “Did I?” In her exhaustion, Kerry felt a willingness to take the conversation to something more comfortable.

  “Yeah.” Dar seemed equally willing. “I remember sitting at home one night and thinking to myself how much better it would be for both of us if I…if we kept our relationship just business.”

  Kerry rolled over onto her side and looked at her partner.

  “And…” Dar paused. “And I could almost… I could feel, sort of, how that would make you feel if I did that, if I told you to forget it.”

  “My God.” Kerry rested her head against the cover. “That would have killed me.”

  Dar was silent again, for a few breaths. “Yeah. I think it would have killed me too,” she replied. “Anyway, I couldn’t. I was in too deep and I knew it.” She reached over and put her hand on Kerry’s, folding her fingers over her partner’s smaller ones and gently squeezing them. “But I was scared.”