Page 45 of The Billionaire's Teacher

Beeping wasn’t good.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood. I took a moment to steady before hurrying after Wes. I kept a hand on the wall. The boat was pitching and rocking on the waves. How had I slept through that? The water had been rough when I went down, but not like this.

I flipped on the emergency weather radio, hoping we were close enough to get broadcasts from somewhere. Surely, with land in sight, we were?

Static.

The boat angled dangerously to the left and I clutched for the rail. “Whoa.”

Wes, looking a little green, nodded. “Yeah.”

I frowned at the instruments and silenced the alarms. “This doesn’t look right. The depth readings are off. You followed the course?”

“I did what you showed me.” A hint of defensiveness crept into Wes’s tone.

“Sorry.” I offered a tight smile. Of course it wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I was the one who was supposed to be driving. If we’d gone off course, that was on me. I took a closer look at the coordinates and fought to keep my expression neutral.

There was no if.

We were decidedly off course.

Which meant the island in front of us wasn’t the one I’d planned for us to find. It wasn’t the one I’d told people we’d be on.

A loud, crunching, rending sound accompanied the jolt that threw me backward from the controls.

“Well, crap.” I stopped the boat and closed my eyes.

“What was that?” Wes gripped my arm.

I looked over at him. “That was us running aground.”

He stared at me.

I blew out a breath. The positive, if I could call it that, was that we were wedged onto the rocks enough that the ocean wasn’t as able to throw us around as it had been. The negatives—and oh boy, were there negatives—started with how we were still a good ways from shore. I didn’t want to try to swim it. Not with the water as choppy as it was right now. Which meant the lifeboat.

“We need to get the inflatable up and head to shore. Grab what you can fit in a duffel bag. We don’t have room for the diving equipment. Think about survival necessities.” I’d already switched into emergency mode, and my tone was brisk.

Thankfully, that seemed to snap Wes out of his daze. He closed his eyes for a moment before heading down to his cabin.

I dug out the emergency supplies from where they were stowed, sent off the new coordinates—or tried to, since that was all still dependent on things clearing enough for a signal—and then hurried below for my go-bag.

When I returned to the main deck, I wrestled the deflated emergency boat out of its storage, then hooked it up and got the pump running. Thankfully, the boss wasn’t so cheap he expected us to use a handpump in emergencies.

By the time Wes arrived with two duffel bags, the boat was inflated.

I hooked a line to it then maneuvered it into the water by the swim step. “Let’s load up and get out. The water’s only getting rougher at this point.”

Wes hurried to help heft the supplies into the craft, then stepped in. He held out a hand for me and I had to stifle a chuckle. Now wasn’t the time for chivalry. Although, in some ways, I still appreciated it.

“Let’s hope the motor is strong enough to handle the waves.” I wasn’t sure it would be, and I really didn’t want to end up unable to make landfall because of how angry the water was. There were oars, but I didn’t trust our ability to paddle any more than I did the engine.

It took three tries to get the motor started. I tensed my jaw as I navigated toward the land. A hard, stinging rain began to fall as the wind whipped up the waves.

We had definitely found the hurricane.

“Hold on!” I had to yell over the noise of the boat and the storm as a wave crashed over the top of the boat. A tiny part of my brain wondered how waterproof the bags were, but that was definitely a problem for future me.

If current me lived long enough to have to deal with it, I was going to be elated.

---