Page 66 of The Final Storm
I kiss them each on their messy mop of hair. “I love you. Please, be good.” They shuffle through the doorway, walking in between the men trusted to guard them. I pull on Caleb’s shoulder before they leave. “You know those two? You trust them?”
“With my life,” Caleb says, patting my hand. “I’ll be around.” He gives Sam a nod, and they exchange a silent look of understanding.
Beau cranes his neck until they’re at the end of the hall, accepting defeat when they make a turn around a corner, Caleb trailing behind them.
“What’s the plan when we get this thing out?” Lori asks. “Thatiswhat you’re doing, Luke? We haven’t discussed it, but judging by the sharp objects.”
Sam sits up on the cot and hunches over, his hands gripping the side until his knuckles turn white.
“There’s no numbing medicine,” I tell Luke. He’s wiping a liquid over Sam’s bare back, looking at the image on the screen. “What are you going to do?”
“You remember when you broke my wrist on the Thalassa?” Luke smirks. “I lived.”
Luke lifts the scalpel and cuts, streams of blood dripping on the floor at his feet. “Quick and dirty,” Luke remarks. “Well, I cleaned the area, but let’s do this fast.” The scalpel clangs on the tray and he picks up what looks like pliers.
“Less talking,” Sam grits out. His arms shake on the edge of the cot, and he takes in a sharp breath when the pliers enter his skin.
I rush toward him, placing my hands on his thighs. “He’ll be quick,” I promise.
“Or he’ll get his revenge for me breaking his bones against a pipe,” Sam grumbles.
“Got it!” Luke says. He holds an inch-long clear cylinder, as thin as a nail in the pliers. A small silver object sits inside. “And I’m grateful for that, man. Death by fire sucks. Or so I’ve heard.”
We all stare at the object, in shock that it’s been there the entire time. Luke drops it in a plastic bag and hands it to Sam. “You’ll need a few stitches,” he warns and goes back to the supply cabinet.
“Do you think Dean’s been tracking you from the beginning?” I ask.
Sam shakes his head. “No. He would’ve found us out sneaking around. I’ve heard of these.” He holds up the object, flipping the bag back and forth. “They warned me before we joined that it was a possibility. This level of security wouldn’t be available to someone like Dean. Matthews maybe.”
“Matthews is at the bottom of the ocean by now,” Lori adds. “And we don’t know for how long? Dean could’ve tracked you for months.”
I look into Sam’s eyes. “Long enough to send Lindell here.”
“Fuck,” Sam hisses. “I thought I would know. Seems like they put it in during the brand.” He cups my face with his hand, flinching when Luke begins stitches on his back. “We need to tell the captain.”
“And we need to talk to Gemma,” Lori says. “She’s been wanting to speak with us.”
“Let’s make it a party,” Luke says. “One more stitch.”
“You trust this captain?” I ask Sam.
“He owes me several favors. That will have to replace trust.” He tightens his jaw. “We need a boat.”
I hear Lori grumble. “We just follow you all back and forth. Fuck me.”
Luke chuckles to himself, cleaning up the mess.
I raise an eyebrow. “Wait. Why do we need a boat when we’re on a boat?”
“Because I know what we need to do,” Sam says. “And I know where we need to go.”
Chapter 23
Padmoore
“IfeellikeI’mgoing to the principal’s office,” I tell Sam, walking down one of the Galene’s many hallways.
I open my mouth to ask if he’s sure of where we are going, and then I realize he is, because he’s been here before with Cecilia. “When are we going to talk about Cecilia?” I ask. It’s a subject I wish we could drop, but one we need to discuss.
