Page 84 of A Cock and Bull Story
The clamorous sound of a boat horn echoes around us at his words.
“Oh, no—the ship’s getting ready to leave!” Sian cries in panic.
“Let’s go, bug,” the jackal taunts, still a distance from us. “Or do you just give up now? Why don’t you just hand over your American tart while you still have all six of your legs?”
Theo’s face reddens in anger.
“Don’t call Belle that—she’s not a tart!”
“Actually, I don’t mind—tarts are delicious. My granny used to make them all the time. Cherry’s my favorite,” I tell him.
“Tart means whore,” Elise coughs.
“Oh. . . well, in that case, he’s not exactly wrong,” I cringe. “But, thank you, you beautiful man. I appreciate you defending my, er, honor.”
The jackal doubles over at my words.
“She admits it! I bet her clunge is wider than the Thames!”
At these words, Theo snaps; he rushes the shifter and tackles him to the ground. It’s interesting to see since the jackal shifter is large and more muscular—but Theo is faster.
“Girls, get on the ship!” Jude snaps. “I didn’t see or sense anyone! It’s our only chance—go!”
“No—” I start, but Sian grabs my hand and yanks me away.
Elise follows, and we rush up the plank.
“Harri sent us,” Sian pants.
The man checking tickets looks both ways before ushering aboard. Honestly, I doubt Sian even needed to name drop. When three hot women come running up, the club doors usually open wide.
We rush to the rail, but the buildings block our view of the guys.
“We need to hunker down in a room,” Elise directs. “Come on.”
A young deck hand points to where we can go rest—or hide, in our case. After about thirty minutes, there’s a loud commotion above. I want to poke my head out and investigate, but Elise bolts the cabin door shut and props the dresser against.
I don’t point out that I doubt this would stop something like a tiger.
The boisterous sounds die down, but my heart continues to beat wildly. It takes everything to not break down, but I don’t want to place that burden on the girls—I know they are just as scared.
Suddenly, there’s a loud pounding on the door.
“Password!” a familiar voice shouts.
Sian grins.
“Password!” she parrots.
“Satin buttholes!” the voice sings.
Instantly, Elise gets up and shoves the dresser out of the way to open the door. Standing there are Jude, Arthur, and Jack—whose voice I heard. Elise tugs them in and re-slams the door shut before shoving the dresser back in place.
“I’ve searched this boat top to bottom—I promise we’re safe,” Jude murmurs to her.
“Um, what’s satin buttholes and where’s Theo?” I ask.
I’m clinging to Jack and Arthur while trying to figure out how to get Jude closer so I can hold him, too.
