Covet (Sinful Secrets 3)

“Stop it, Peter!”

“You want me to stop, we’ll talk about something!”

She wriggled free of his grasp. “No, we won’t! Not now!”

Water spilled over the skiff’s low, wooden walls, a shock of cold soaking my towel and chilling my feet. Another wave splashed Mummy’s dress, and I started to cry.

“I want to go back—please!”

“Hush, you!” Daddy turned to Mummy, his face deep red. A bolt of lightning streaked behind him. “I want to talk about him,” he sneered. “Charlie Carnegie.”

“Peter!”

Water sloshed into Daddy’s face, and in that moment, Mummy got us fully turned back toward the harbor. Daddy growled, shoving his hair out of his eyes. Then he stood and tossed Mummy over the bench. He turned the boat around, and I fell in its flat, wooden belly, clutching Mummy’s legs. I’d been in storms before, but not one like this.

“Daddy!”

His eyes seared Mummy. “Charlie and Declan! Who is Declan?”

“He’s a prince!”

My Daddy bellowed, the sound so harsh it took a bit for me to realize he was laughing. Not the nice sort. His face twisted as rain pummeled us. He wiped his hair out of his face again, and then looked down at Mummy.

“I should fucking kill you for this.”

Horror seared me like a lightning bolt. Surely he wouldn’t do that! I hugged Mummy’s knees for dear life. Water splashed over the skiff’s sides, covering my legs. Father Russo said that when he’s frightened, he prays.

I moved a hand from Mummy’s leg to cross myself, which is how the Ave Maria begins, and that’s when Daddy snatched her up.

“No!”

The blow came so fast that when I drew my hand away from my mouth, I felt shocked to see the blood there. Still more water rolled over the boat’s side, so much I choked on it. Daddy had Mummy by her long, red hair, her head against his lap, her arms curled at her sides. I clutched her skirt, and Mummy kicked at me gently.

“Get away!”

Her words seemed like a line from a horrible story. I felt dragged down by my dress and tried to pull at it, realizing that the water now rose to my elbows. Thunder clapped, and Daddy wrapped his hand around my mummy’s throat.

“NO!”

I threw myself at him. The boat stalled, the front jutting up then slamming down atop the waves, as I clawed Daddy’s arms and Mummy writhed beside me. Lightning snapped across the sky, and th

under boomed, and Daddy jumped up, making the boat pitch as he dragged Mummy to her feet and screamed, “So tell me, trollop! Tell me about Carnegie! Is he going to save you? Can he save you now?”

Mummy tried to sink into the bottom of the boat beside me, but she couldn’t. Daddy held her shoulders. Another cold wave sloshed into the boat, smacking me so hard I choked and couldn’t get my breath. When I came to, I saw Daddy’s hands on Mummy’s shoulders, holding Mummy’s head into the waves.

Hatred that was cold as ice surged through me. I hit his back with all my might, and Daddy whirled toward me. I shoved his arm, and as he grabbed at me, I remembered something Mummy said—about the one thing that could hurt a man. So I drove my head into his crotch. The feeling as he tipped over the skiff’s side was one of swallowing a brick. When Mummy rose up, still gasping violently, my attention snapped to her: the blue hue of her lips, the blood that flowed from one of her eyes. Her gaze careened around the boat, and then she made a high-pitched sound.

“PETE! Oh, Pete! Christ on the cross!”

I tried to tell her, tried to tell her that I hadn’t meant to push him over. But Mummy shrieked and cried, and when a pale hand thrust out of the murky cauldron of the sea, she screamed again and turned to me. “Stay here, Finley! Do not move!”

The skiff rocked mightily as she jumped out. Water rushed in. I saw a flash of red—my Mummy’s pretty hair—then a dash of yellow as a whitecap stole her halo. And then nothing. Nothing.

Nothing.

One

Declan