I pointed the ship a little more south than southeast to compensate for the few minutes I’d be away from the wheel, then crossed to the door and slid open the window adjacent to it. “I thought you’d try to pull a fast—”
“How dare you allow someone to watch me while I showered!” Her voice was a mix of terrified and enraged. “Now let me in so I can kick your ass.” She grabbed ahold of the doorknob with both hands, ready to rip open the door as soon as I was stupid enough to unlock it.
My blank look of confusion made her hesitate, but she didn’t let go of the knob.
“Some redhead. I punched him twice and he ran off crying. Now let me in!”
Just fantastic. No one had thought of keeping tabs on him once he was free of the cargo hold. I clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes. “No. That was O’Toole, my ship idiot. He’s a severely autistic person. He didn’t understand he was doing anything wrong. Now don’t hit or kick him ever again.” Of course he’d investigate the showers if he’d wandered within earshot of running water. That was his favorite place to pull pranks. I returned to the wheel and checked my compass.
“I don’t believe you,” Jessie said, her tone lacking conviction. She let go of the knob and took a step back. “Why would you have someone like him as part of your crew?”
I smiled what was hopefully a sly smile. I just wanted to yell at her to leave me alone and let me steer as I tried to brace myself for a special side trip I hated yet needed to take. But I was doing my best to be somewhat polite. I needed her to have no reason to run off the second we docked. “He’s immune to the effects of quasi-children.”
“That’s impossible.” I barely heard her subdued voice over the wind. “I’ve never heard of anyone like that.”
“Would you like a demonstration?” I patted the part of my trench coat that concealed my gun.
“No!” Jessie lunged for the window. For half a second I thought she was gonna fly through and pin me down. She stopped with one slender arm outstretched and her fearful gaze honed in on my concealed gun.
“Hopefully you’ll never see. I don’t like quasi-children any more than you do.”
She relaxed her posture and placed both hands on the window sill. “How is he immune?”
I looked out over the rolling ocean and sighed. I wanted to snap at her to go ask someone else. I needed to think. Everyone on board knew the story, whether they believed all the details or not. “He has a twin brother who was born a quasi-child. Whatever qualities Mother Nature thrust on those siblings made O’Toole immune to his brother’s… quirks.” I adjusted my ship’s direction again. The waves were rolling mostly south to north, but as I sailed us closer to our destination, I would have to fight westbound waves and higher winds.
After a moment of silence, I added, “And that’s it. The seas are going to get progressively rougher as we near Port Chesapeake, so I hope you’ve got your sea legs. Now leave me alone and let me steer.” Amphitrite. Her damn name was Amphitrite. Of all the times she could have escaped, she happened to pick my ship.
“Yes, Captain,” she said bitterly. Her head of dark hair disappeared down the steps, then popped up again three seconds later. Her eyes were downcast and mouth drawn in a slight frown. “Is there anyone who can escort me to the guy I hit with the oar. I still want to apologize to him.”
I stared at her, taken by surprise. “Take the hatch closest to the bow, go down, then follow your ears to the commotion going on in the cargo hold. Ask for Sam. He’ll get you a pair of steel-toed boots if we have any that fit you. New ones.” Jessie popped a feral grin and disappeared once more. Ugh. Why did being nice to her make my stomach churn? I thumped my fist down on my bolted-down chair’s armrest. My wrist started throbbing.
Jessie retrieved her sneakers from the bottom of the stairs and headed for the bow. The wood deck baking under the afternoon sun singed her feet with every step, but putting on her sneakers was out of the question. They smelled as disgusting and filthy as they looked. The second to last thing she wanted was to slip her clean and slightly pruned toes into soiled footwear.
The last thing she wanted was to see Tethys again.
The wind whipped her long hair about. She let it get stuck over her face, then slip off when the wind shifted direction. Her hair felt the softest and silkiest it had in two years. And cleanest. No more sweat-drenched hair caked to her forehead and scalp. No more natural oils giving her months and months of bed head. Jessie wanted to throw her sneakers over the railing so she could be rid of the last bit of filth she carried around. However, first she needed to make sure this guy named Sam had the boots Dyne had promised.
Jessie hopped into a jog. The toasty deck was borderline unbearable. She’d figured the wind would keep the wood colder. So much for that. The swells forced her to pause every so often to keep her balance, but no big deal there. She’d take singed feet over scraped knees and elbows. She found the hatch and heaved it open with a grunt. Another wave helped her swing it shut after she dropped inside, then she turned the inner wheel, securing the hatch closed.
Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, which were quite prickly, she heard voices yelling back and forth. It sounded like they were trying to organize a bunch of big boxes and such, and one of them was in charge of it all. Hopefully that was Sam.
Jessie snuck towards the echoing voices, filthy shoes clutched to her chest. As she drew closer she became painfully aware of her lack of undergarments. She’d dumped them in the bathroom garbage, along with the rest of her clothes. She’d wanted to dump her sneakers as well, but now she was grateful she had them to cover her chest. There was so little between her and her next potential rapist.
She pressed to the side of the path, doing her best to hide from the oval doorway’s view. Two men were bustling around, pushing big crates from one end to the other and carrying large sacks on their shoulders. Just a few feet inside the doorway stood a man with a mop of sandy hair, his back to the door. Jessie geared up some courage, put on a tough face, and stuck her head in the doorway.
The cargo hold was one huge space full of crates and pulley systems. And men. The space spanned from hull to deck. It was modestly lit with glowing cables and solar-charged lamps. The men wore construction helmets with head lamps, and protective gloves. And the steel toe boots she coveted.
One older man carrying a duffle bag over his should pointed to Jessie. “Sam, we have a visitor.”
Sam, the man with his back to her, turned around. His pale eyes widened. “Why hello there, miss. Dyne told me to expect you.”
It took all her willpower to not cower and hide. Showing weakness would be bad right now.
“Please don’t be afraid. I’m harmless. You can come in.” He waved her over. “I bark a lot but I don’t bite. What’s your name, miss?”
Jessie mentally yelled at herself to move. She stepped over the doorframe and pattered to just outside arm’s reach. She clutched her sneakers tighter and couldn’t help but notice her cotton sweatpants brushing against her butt cheeks and nether region. One yank and a pig could force himself on her. She swallowed. “Jessie.”
“Pleased to meet you, Jessie. I’m Sam.” He held out a big, calloused hand.
Jessie stared at it. A man’s hand. She couldn’t bring herself to touch it.