Thousands (Dollar 4)

Crossing my arms, I took back my power as ruler of this yacht. “Does the coastguard make it their duty to board at four in the morning?”

“The world never sleeps, Mr. Prest. You know that.”

“I do, but a simple radio call would’ve sufficed.”

“We did. Can’t blame us if that message was never passed on.”

I glared at Jolfer who shrugged with a tight nod. I might be the ruler of this vessel, but he was the captain. I trusted him to deal with things like radio conversations without micromanaging. Besides, at four a.m., I should’ve been asleep and not peering at the horizon waiting for an attack.

I sighed, accepting defeat. “I’d say this was a pleasure, but I’d be lying again. I’ll ensure to log Ms. Blythe correctly. Anything else?” I repressed the urge to tap my foot one, two, three. Or wring his puny neck.

“Yes, there is something else. I think a routine inspection is in order, don’t you?”

I swallowed my groan. “Nothing new to see.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” He smiled coldly. “I never like to miss out on an opportunity to inspect yachts as nice as this under the call of duty.” Discounting me, he pointed at Pim. “Relay your details to my colleague over there, Miss.” With a pompous smile on his weather-beaten face, he rubbed his hands together. “Now, captain. Pass me the logs and unlock all the doors. Let’s see what you guys have been up to since our last visit.”

* * * * *

Three hours.

Three long, interminable hours for the coastguard to finally satisfy their curiosity.

Staff members returned from the safe room and confirmed their right to sail against the log we’d supplied each port we frequented. Maritime officers ticked their names off a register and verified their passports and visas were still up to date.

I stayed with Pimlico as she handed over her release from the Monaco Police and the signed statement proving no crime was lodged.

Jolfer showed our previous itineraries and activities while yet another team of inconsiderate men all puffed up on fake power thanks to their uniforms invaded every room on the Phantom.

Meanwhile, I waited for the accusations.

Sure enough, around dawn, I was summoned to a meeting with the head M.O. as he listed the extra weapons I’d installed and hadn’t advised.

The fine was substantial. The slap on the wrist fairly painful.

Throughout the inspection, I managed to keep my body still and straight—belying the twitching rage in my gut. My fingers, however, weren’t so easily tamed, and to anyone watching, they would’ve seen the musical notes and cello strings I practised to keep my brain focused and not spin into directions I couldn’t control.

Around seven a.m., Pim noticed my forever moving hands. Her lips pursed, her forehead furrowed—not just watching me strum out a chord but studying me as if trying to crack the answers to tricky questions she burned with.

I still couldn’t talk to her without wanting to throttle her, so I jammed my fingers into my pockets and strode to the other side of the bridge where a rookie guard was trying to tabulate the crew lifeboats ratios and determine if it was up to code.

By the time we’d been well and truly trespassed over, Pimlico was issued a temporary pass to enter England with the proviso that she speak with immigration the moment she disembarked and applied for a passport replacement.

She agreed, but I had no intention of marching her to a stuffed-up shirt in an office and wasting yet another day of our life waiting for forms to be filled out.

We had things to do. Places to go. People to visit. There wasn’t time for any deviations to my plan.

Already, my stomach roiled at the thought of our first appointment when we arrived on Great Britain soil. I still hadn’t told Pim I’d spoken to her mother. And now, I didn’t know if I would be apologetic if she was mad or glad because if she gave me attitude, I would finally be able to let loose the anger caused from her being so damn reckless.

My nostrils flared as my temper fired hotter. It was probably a blessing this rigmarole had taken three hours. It should’ve given me plenty of time to cool down and see her valiant arrival as idiotic but good hearted. Instead, it only made me worse because I wasn’t able to yell at her in company.

All I knew was she’d put herself in harm’s way. What if it had been the Chinmoku? What if she’d run directly into a bullet meant for me? What if they’d fucking killed her right in front of me? Didn’t she see I put her somewhere safe so I could be who I needed to be? She made me weak, and that could never be tolerated where my past was concerned.