Page 82 of Beast

This was going to be a long night.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent the night in the same room with a woman instead of darting away in the middle of the night. I fought sleep as long as I could, looking over at the slight girl and her son asleep on the bed, praying they would be okay.

16

Patrick

THE BED RATTLED AND THE vibrations on the floor awoke me from sleep. My first thought was it was an angry wave, until I realized it was Annie who was shaking. Her little boy popped up in bed, his hair disheveled, and let out a whimper. She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.

I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I sat on the bed next to Gabriel.

“Hey buddy, you want to check out the boat?”

I had nothing to offer him—totally ill-equipped to entertain a toddler. No toy trains or cars. No crayons or stickers. I didn’t want to touch him, scare him. I hadn’t a clue what kind of life he’d grown accustomed to, who took care of him while Annie worked. Fuck—I still didn’t know who his dad was, and for that matter, if I’d killed him.

I could hear Annie gagging and retching.

Gabriel looked around the room, his eyes fixed on the tiny porthole.

“Boat?” he said.

“Yes—we’re on a boat. Do you want to see it?”

He nodded and put his arms around my neck. His affection startled me, so trusting, so warm. I carried him to the deck where Kyle was manning the ship.

“Hey, little man.” Kyle came from a big family with a bunch of nieces and nephews. “You want to help me steer?”

A smile broke out on Gabriel’s face. Kyle offered his hand to Gabriel, and the little boy happily took it, and stepped up to the control panels.

Kyle turned to me, “I got this. Anyway, we need to talk about what we’re going to do with them.”

Vic interjected. “She’s right, you know. We can’t drop her off at the embassy, with her son. He’s a Dutch National. They could prevent him from leaving the country.”

“I know. What are our options?”

Kyle spoke, his hands helping Gabriel steer the wheel. “We can sail her back to San Diego.”

“No way. We don’t have the supplies, it will take at least two weeks, and I’ve never sailed through the Panama Canal. She’s detoxing. This isn’t even our boat.”

Vic stretched out on the deck. “We don’t have a choice, Walsh. Unless you marry her and take them on a Navy cruiser. The consulate might try to locate Gabriel’s family, might investigate our mission at the brothel. I already radioed Dave. I didn’t give him the details about Annie, but I asked him if there was any way we could take the boat to San Diego. He said yes—as long as we took him.”

Great, just fucking great. Not exactly the way I wanted to spend the few weeks of leave I get a year. But they were right. I didn’t have a choice. I’d see this mission through to the end. And I trusted Dave, we’d used his weapons for the rescue anyway. “Fine. Let’s go tell Annie. Kyle, radio Dave and confirm everything. Make sure he gets enough supplies for us, Annie, and the boy. Toys and stuff, too.”

Kyle grabbed the radio. “Roger that. Go take care of Annie.”

Vic headed back to the room with me, carrying his medical bag. “How’s she doing?”

“She woke up and puked.”

We entered the room; Annie was sitting on the bed, her hair wet, her skin bluish.

Vic gave her more meds, and she calmed down for a bit. He then went to the kitchen to make us all breakfast.

I led Annie into the living area. I warmed some chicken broth in a mug and handed her a banana, which was about the extent of my cooking skills. “You need to eat. Here.”

She took a sip of the broth and relaxed into the chair. “I thought I was dreaming. I can’t believe I’m really free. When we moved islands, I thought my one chance was gone forever. How did you find me?”

I studied the girl sitting in front of me. She already looked different to me than she had when I’d last seen her in the brothel. She seemed lighter, like a weight had been lifted from her soul. But her skin was pale and her hair was lifeless. She still had a long way to go before she fully returned to the land of the living. “I went back to the brothel in Aruba—it was burnt to the ground. We searched the island for you and Kyle got a tip that you girls were moved to Curaçao, so we came here. You’d told me the last thing you remembered at the resort was being in the elevator with that dancer. He was playing at a bar and I followed him. I thought I saw you in the window, so I took a chance and here we are.”