Surviving Raine (Surviving Raine 1)

She listened and gulped it all down quickly. It would help her a lot with the digestion of the fish’s flesh.

“That was really, really disgusting.”

“Beats death,” I shrugged. “I thought you looked kind of hot doing that.”

“You are sick.” Raine’s face turned into a grimace, and she looked around the raft nervously.

I shrugged again since I didn’t have any argument against that.

“Ready to eat?”

“How are you going to cook it?”

“Seriously, Raine?” I stifled the laugh. “Princesses like you know all about sushi. I should be charging you at least ten bucks for every piece.”

“Raw?” She cringed and made her face scrunch up.

“All you have to do is imagine the rice and wasabi,” I smiled, trying to put her at ease a little. I cut off a piece and downed it myself, trying not to chew it too much because it really wasn’t particularly tasty. I cut another one and held it out to her.

Raine looked at the piece of raw fishy-flesh between my fingers then back to me. She did that a couple of times before she finally took it and shoved it into her mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly.

“That’s awful,” she said.

“I know,” I replied. I smiled at the face she was making and tried not to laugh out loud. “But it’s a shitload better than nothing.”

“If that’s what sushi tastes like, I’m glad I never had it.”

“You never had sushi?” I marveled. “I thought all you high society bitches were weaned on that shit.”

“Why do you think I’m rich?” she asked.

“Because you were a passenger on my ship, and it costs a fucking fortune to travel like that,” I answered. “You have to be.”

“Well, I’m not,” she said. “I told you, my father was a cop. He didn’t make a lot of money.”

Well, yeah, I did remember that. I kind of figured mom must have been a doctor or an executive or something.

“How’d you get on my ship?”

“I used the settlement money from the state,” she answered. “I never wanted it, but I got it anyway. Lindsay convinced me to use most of it for the cruise.”

“You should have booked a chalet in Aspen or something.”

“I think you are probably right.”

“But hey, if you had done that,” I said, holding my arms out wide and smiling, “you wouldn’t have met me and had the time of your life with the biggest asshole in the Caribbean detoxifying right in front of you!”

At least I made her laugh.

“You are an ass,” she agreed.

“I know,” I said, still smiling. I held up a chunk of fish meat. “At least I’m a useful ass.”

“Why are you so…cheerful all of a sudden?” she asked.

I tore another chunk of muscle with my teeth and ate it, looking at her and debating.

“I always feel this way after a fight,” I finally said. “Leftover adrenaline or something.”