The Abyss Surrounds Us (The Abyss Surrounds Us #1)(52)

“We could get someone to send a note to them. We could explain—”

She lifts her left wrist, marked by red welts from the cuffs, and gives it an emphatic shake, still avoiding my gaze. “Too risky. Captain would gut us.”

“Fuck the captain.”

Her lips twist, a smile almost escaping before she swallows it. I know she’s right. I know there’s nothing we can do, but I’m still struggling to find a way to make it work. We can’t go anywhere on this raft with Murphy out there. He could have backup. He could snatch us and run.

And as much as I want that to happen, for my own sake, I know I can’t let it. Swift’s livelihood depends on her position aboard the Minnow. If we do anything that could compromise it, her whole family pays the price. This morning, I would have done anything to escape the hell I’m sunk in. But now, as the sun starts to dip into the sea, I realize that I’m willing to give up that chance. Not just because of the kids, but for Swift too.

I reach out for her, not sure what else I can do. She startles when my hand comes to rest on her shoulder, and her eyes flick to mine.

“C’mon,” I say. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

Swift pushes forward suddenly and snares me in a hug so tight that for a minute I can’t breathe. Our knees knock together and we sink beneath the surface of the water, unable to tread when we’re so tangled.

I hug her back. I don’t care. I don’t care that we’re on opposite sides of a war, that I’m an ocean away from everyone I love and it’s mostly her fault. I don’t care that she’s the one thing standing between me and my freedom. All I care about is here and now, our own little world beneath the docks, where nothing from that ship can touch us. All I care about is her nose in my neck and the way her floating hair ghosts over my cheek. Her fingertips brush mine, the cuffs no longer the only thing binding us together, and I have to suppress an urge to twine my fingers with hers.

It’s a moment that can only last so long, and though I wish my lungs weren’t screaming for oxygen, I kick once, and immediately Swift’s grip on me slackens. I break the surface, nearly choking on the water as I inhale, and Swift’s there bobbing beside me, looking equally out of breath.

“I’m … sorry,” she gasps. “I didn’t mean—equal footing, I know, I know.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her, but I know she doesn’t think I mean it. I shake my head, pushing off one of the dock’s support struts and drawing us toward the knot of hulls in the inner harbor. I don’t know where I stand now. I don’t know what my next move is, or even what will happen to me once we get back to the Minnow. But one thing’s for certain: if I wasn’t in over my head before, I sure as hell am now.





25


When we rush back up the ramp and onto the ship, Santa Elena is waiting for us. She keeps her arms folded, and a sleek pair of sunglasses shade her eyes. “No one else spotted you, then?” she asks, sizing us up. Lemon and Chuck lurk just behind her, leaning on a railing that looks out over the bay.

Swift nods. We’re soaking wet and panting, but at least we didn’t run into Murphy or any of his goons on the way back to the ship.

“Cas, you wanna explain who that was?” Swift asks, and I notice the harsh edge she’s forced into her tone.

I stare at the shiny black discs where the captain’s eyes should be. “Fabian Murphy. Works as a liaison between Reckoner stables and the International Genetically Engineered Organisms Council. He’s an old friend of my parents.”

“He’s powerful,” Santa Elena says, but it’s not quite a question.

“He’s well-connected.”

“Boss,” Swift says. “He made the connection. Cas to Bao. Bao to the Minnow.”

“He’d be an idiot not to.” The captain shrugs. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Cassandra. Come here.” She draws the handcuffs key from her pocket, and a shudder of relief courses through me. Swift and I stick our wrists out, and she pops the metal loops open one at a time, tucking the cuffs back into her belt once we’re free.

I shake my hand, wincing as the sea wind cuts across the chafed skin. I almost thank her right then and there.

“Stow her,” Santa Elena snaps.

And suddenly Chuck’s at my side, wrenching my arms behind my back as Lemon grabs my hair. My eyes roll back in my head as they yank, the pain searing through my scalp like wildfire.

Swift steps forward, but the captain snares her by the wrist. “You and I are going to have words. Right. Now,” Santa Elena snarls.

I watch, helpless, as she drags Swift toward the bridge. Chuck and Lemon haul me into the ship’s interior and throw me down a ladder. I hit the ground in a heap and pain shoots through my hip. They don’t bother waiting for me to get up; Lemon takes my right wrist, Chuck takes my left, and together they tow me down the shadowy hall.

This is all feeling very familiar. So familiar, in fact, that I know exactly where they’re taking me. I can almost smell the janitorial closet before I see it, and when they yank the door open and toss me in, it feels unnaturally homelike.

“You guys really need to invest in a proper brig,” I say as I roll onto my back, glaring up at the two of them.

Chuck grins. “I’ll put in a word with the captain.” She slams the door, and the lock clicks into place. Seconds later, the engines rumble to life.