Page 23 of Drowning in Sins
“It wouldn’t be public knowledge.” Joe gestured to the papers spread out between us. “It’s an old story passed down.”
“What kind of story?” I set my coffee cup down and sat up a little straighter.
“It was cursed from the moment it left harbor for the first time. They say its first captain didn’t want to take the route planned out by the company. Supposedly a storm had them going out of their way. The ship returned with half a crew that didn’t want to talk about whatever happened.”
“It wasn’t unheard of for people to get sick at sea back then and not be able to recover.” They didn’t have modern medicine like we did.
“You’re absolutely right, but it happened every time that ship left until its last journey. Half a dozen captains left and prepared to make a name for themselves by doing the unthinkable with that ship, and none returned.”
“History says—”
“They wouldn’t want it getting out,” he interrupted. “James Douglas wasn’t the first captain, nor was his last name even Douglas. He took the surname when he stepped up to be captain after nobody wanted the job. One of the original crew members.”
I shook my head with a sigh. “That doesn’t explain how it’s part of the mystery.”
“Doesn’t it though?” He pointed to one of the drawings of the ship. “Isn’t it funny how a ship would break at its strongest point.”
My eyes moved to the picture. “What could do something like that?” I swallowed.
He tapped his nose. “That’s the real question nobody will ask.” He stood, finishing his cup and putting it on the counter. “I grew up on these waters,” he spoke over his shoulder. “As comfortable as I am out here, I know to be afraid to look too closely.”
I watched him walk out of the room. The way he’d sat down, I thought he was going to tell me something useful, or at least not leave me with additional questions. What was the purpose of the research team? Did the owners know something we didn’t? So far, we hadn’t learned anything new.
What were they looking for?
Chapter Twenty-Two
FREDERICK
If I lay still enough, I could feel the waves beneath theMaribeth. The slow rocking of the boat would be a peaceful way to fall asleep, but I couldn’t simply stay here though. If it wasn’t the dreams confusing me, it was the knowledge of what was lurking in the shadows of the water.
The dreams started after I was back on board. I don’t typically remember my dreams, but these weren’t normal. They were as clear as day, and something in my gut had them lingering more like memories. Rosalyn and Kai were both in them, only it wasn’t them.
It was them, but not.
That was the confusing part. Their faces were the clearest part of the dreams, only the names didn’t match. I couldn’t remember the names now, but it was definitely their faces. Everything about those dreams felt so fucking haunting.
The last one was the weirdest one. It was the first one Rosalyn wasn’t in. It was just me and my brother, but he didn’t feel like my brother in the dream. Not that we’re close, but something was different.
My gaze turned to the window; the edge of the moon could be seen from where I lay. Wishful thinking would have me wondering if she was awake and looking at the moon too, as if life could be a dream. I knew she was probably asleep with the others in the bunkroom below.
A soft knock sounded on my door, faint. I held my breath as I waited to see if I heard it again before slowly getting up and moving to the door to open it. These old boats creaked, so it was possible nothing was there.
I opened the door to see Rosalyn standing there. She looked out of breath, worry in her eyes until they found mine.
“What are you—”
Her hands moved across my bare chest, interrupting every thought as she pushed me back and closed the door. I’d let her think she was in charge, mostly because I wanted to know why she showed up in the middle of the fucking night after she’d been on my mind. Missing from the dream that awoke me.
What was going on in that pretty little head of hers? She’d clearly been thinking of me too for her to show up like this. Before I could ask, her lips found and assaulted mine, and I groaned at the contact. Maybe I could pretend for a while that this wasn’t as frighteningly big as it felt.
I pushed her away last time, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it again. I wanted her more than oxygen. To feel her shudder beneath me. She occupied my mind more often than not.
I pushed thoughts of reality out of my head as we moved across the room and toward the bed, her touch remaining soft but firm. My knees hit the edge, and I brought her down with me.
Her lips stayed connected to mine as she moved to straddle me. My hands moved to grip her waist, then squeezed. There would be no hiding my hard cock with my boxers and the thin fabric of her pajama shorts.
All rational thought left my mind; I pulled back to look at her. Her lips were swollen and eyes hazy with lust. Her chest rose and fell, bringing attention to her nipples pebbling against the silk, nearly sheer fabric of her top.
