Resonating Souls (Bermuda Nights #1)(17)

Chapter 8


The campfire’s soft glow grew larger as we approached it, and I steeled myself to not be affected by the drug usage. Those two were living their own lives, and I was far from perfect. I shouldn’t be judging others on where they were in their own struggles.

Thank God.

My shoulders eased with relief as we approached the glowing embers. There were only a trio of older men talking quietly at one side of the remains of the fire. Apparently we’d been gone longer than I’d thought.

The men looked up as we approached. One of them scratched at his neck before speaking. “Hey, you Evan? Your friend said he’d take your guitar back to your room for you.” His eyes lit up with amusement. “Guess you and that girl of yours were … occupied.”

I blushed, but Evan just nodded to them. “Thanks, guys. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He put his hand on my back, and we moved on. The Bermuda night was quiet around us as we made our way through the narrow alleys, wending our way back to the larger dockyard buildings.

I slipped my arm around his waist as we moved into the shadows of one of the run-down larger buildings. He drew me in close, pressing a kiss on my forehead. His voice was rough. “Amanda, you know we will need to stay distant once we get back on the ship. Starting tomorrow afternoon, we need to keep at arm’s length. Like Catholic kids at a school dance.”

“I know,” I insisted, although saying the words twisted within me. It was going to be a test of my endurance, to be near him and not able to touch him, to kiss him, to …

He slowed, and I glanced up at him in curiosity. I could feel it viscerally, how his body sharpened, how his muscles rippled into steeled readiness.

Tension shafted through me, and I turned to look ahead. My breath caught in my throat.

A trio of well-built men were striding toward us, laughing, beer bottles in hand. The swaggering motion in their strides indicated that this was probably not their first drink of the night.

Jeff was at the center, his orange polo shirt glowing out like a warning sign. Danger Ahead.

My stomach roiled with sick dread.

The men on either side of Jeff were about his height and build, dressed in dark t-shirts and jeans. I wondered if they were who Jeff had come on the cruise with.

Jeff glanced up as we drew closer, his eyes narrowed, and he staggered to a stop. His grip closed in on his bottle.

“Jesus Christ, Amanda! Do you know what time it is? And you’re out with this bastard again?” His eyes narrowed as he looked between us. “Don’t tell me you really are f*cking him? Good God, Amanda, he’s gonna use you up, then move on to the next spread-legs whore in the morning! Don’t you get it?”

Evan took a step in front of me, shielding me with his body, his voice low and steady. “I’m taking her back to the ship, Jeff. You just head on wherever it is you’re going.”

Jeff took a step in front of his two friends, his face darkening. “You don’t f*cking tell me what to do, you *. Amanda is mine.” His neck went taut. “I’m going to make sure she doesn’t forget it again.”

Evan’s fingers flexed. His voice steeled. “You’re not going to lay a hand on Amanda.”

Jeff snapped his wrist to the side, and the bottle in his hand exploded against the stone wall with a sharp burst of liquid and glass. He settled the neck firmly into his right hand, his eyes gleaming with fury.

“You just try to stop me, you Mick. We should never have let you come out of those ditches and slums. Think you’re good enough for decent women now.” He gave a barking laugh. “We’ll see what she thinks of you when you’re groveling on the ground, mewling like a kicked puppy.”

Evan took another step forward, creating space between me and him. “Jeff, you want to stop before someone gets hurt.”


Jeff waved the bottle before him with a bright laugh. “I’ll have you know, I’ll be a black belt in Shotokan karate in a year or two. So when you’re picking your teeth up off the ground, you’ll know what excuse to give all your friends.”

He crept toward Evan, crouching, his eyes glowing.

Then he lunged.

Evan spun to the side, grabbed Jeff’s wrist, and gave it a sharp twist. Jeff screamed in agony, dropping to one knee.

His voice was high with fury. “He broke my f*cking wrist! Get him!”

The other two men charged in hard. Evan grabbed the arm of the one on the right, spun with his momentum, and slammed him head-first into the stone wall of the building. He then continued turning, bringing his outside foot around in a roundhouse kick, driving it hard into the other man’s groin.

Both men groaned, collapsing to the ground.

Evan balanced on the balls of his feet, alert, watching all three.

For a long moment the only sound was the groaning wheeze of the man whose nuts were newly relocated.

Then Jeff gave himself a shake, drawing himself to standing. He cradled his hand against his body, glaring at Evan with fury. “You f*cking Paddy. I’ll make you pay – and then Amanda will wish she never slummed with you. She’ll see what happens when a woman cheats on her man.”

I found my voice and stepped up beside Evan. “You broke up with me,” I reminded Jeff, my throat tight. “By text! And you cleared out your stuff!”