Page 78 of Pirates in Calusa Cove

“Then do it.” Mallary sneered before lunging at her.

Trinity jerked to the side. Mallary missed her completely and smacked into the wall.

“You bitch.” Mallary wiped the blood from her cut lip. “You’re going to pay for that.” The cold, dark stare that danced from her eyes made Trinity’s heart drop to her knees. Mallary inched closer.

Trinity held the weapon as best she could with both hands. Her shoulder was useless, but she needed to steady her aim. She needed to be willing to pull thetrigger because she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, she was staring back at death.

“Fisherman’s Run, this is the Coast Guard. We are investigating a possible violation of boating laws. Please stop your vessel immediately and have your registration ready. We will board your vessel for inspection,” a man’s voice crackled over the radio.

That was music to Trinity’s ears.

The boat slowed.

“Jesus,” Mallary muttered. “You better let me go topside.” She cocked her head. “My partners are going to need me to smooth this one over.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Trinity said. “Not until the Coast Guard opens that door and I can tell them what’s really happening here.”

“Who are they going to believe? The woman holding the gun? Or the woman saying, ‘Oh my God, she’s going to kill me. Please help me.’” Mallary waved her hand in front of her face for dramatic effect. “Now give me the gun.” Without a care in the world, Mallary closed the gap with her arm stretched out.

With her heart in her throat, Trinity shifted her aim and squeezed the trigger.

Bang!

Mallary jerked backward into the wall, grabbing her shoulder. She glanced down at her hand, and blood trickled through her fingers. “You fucking shot me?”

“And I’ll do it?—”

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Rapid fire sounded—machine gun fire.

The boat picked up speed.

Men shouted.

Trinity fell to the ground as the boat lurched. She slid toward the back of the cabin, rolling like a sack of potatoes.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

More yelling, but she couldn’t make out the voices. Or the words. The boat pitched to the starboard. Then to port.

Trinity gripped the weapon with all her might as she and Mallary tumbled about inside the cabin, lunging at each other. Mallary grabbed her hair and pulled. She punched her in the shoulder and then kicked her side.

Trinity gave as good as she got, but her one arm was freaking useless.

Mallary knocked the gun from Trinity’s hand as the boat pitched again.

More gunfire. More shouting. Cussing. It was utter chaos.

And then, as if it were magic, the boat slowed. It was as if someone had yanked the throttles to neutral. It rocked in the swell of the ocean waves.

“Where the fuck is she?” Keaton’s voice echoed in Trinity’s ears. It was loud, sweet, and sent one big warm shiver up and down her spine.

“I’m down here.” She jumped to her feet, but Mallary grabbed her ankle, and she face-planted to the fiberglass floor with a thud. “Ugh.” She groaned. Her eyes watered. Her nose felt as though it flattened right into her brain.

The door flung open.

She lifted her head. Her vision blurred, but she knewKeaton’s frame when she saw it, as he stood in all of his glory, pointing a weapon at…

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