The Resurrected Compendium Read online

  “The fuck is going on with you and my brother?”

  The look on her face was answer enough. Guilt, all over it. Kelsey blinked and shook her head, but she’d already given herself away.

  “Nothing, baby. I don’t know —”

  “Shut up.” Ty felt sicker than he had before. He looked toward the front of the boat so he didn’t have to look at her. “Just…shut up.”

  “Tyler.”

  He didn’t want to hear it. He pushed away, not caring that he made her slip and fall. He went to the front of the boat to find out what the hell was going on, and he left her behind.

  24

  “Wake up, honey. Wake up, Sheila. Come on.” Duane rocked her, but she stayed limp and lifeless, her eyes open and staring. Her mouth slack. Her arm fell against the deck with a thud, and she didn’t even wince.

  “What happened?” Jeremy pushed away the debris of splintered wood and glass to kneel next to him. “Did you do CPR?”

  “I don’t know—”

  Helpless, Duane watched as Jeremy pushed him aside to bend over Sheila. He pushed on her chest, then put his mouth to hers and blew. Again. Then again. Nothing happened.

  “He’s moving on your girl too?” Ty muttered from behind him. “Motherfucker.”

  Duane couldn’t think straight. One minute they’d been sailing on clear blue seas, drinking beers and enjoying the shit out of life. The next the storm had come up and hit them, and he’d heard Sheila screaming…he’d been able to get to her, but though he could see no evidence of any injuries, hadn’t seen her fall or get hit with anything, she’d suddenly started to spasm. She’d fallen, and he’d caught her, and she hadn’t moved since.

  “Does she have any medical conditions?” Jeremy paused to speak, then bent back to her.

  “Listen to the little medic.” Ty sounded pissed, and Duane couldn’t figure out why.

  Ignoring him, Duane shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. Well…maybe…she passed out a couple times last year. She had a…what do you call it. Irregular heartbeat. A murmur or something. Mitral valve prolapse.”

  Jeremy kept up the pushing on her chest, the blowing into her mouth, while all Duane could do was watch. His own heart hurt, pounding too fast. Everything was too bright. He had a taste like pennies in his mouth and he went to the railing to spit into the sea.

  All around them, the water was mirror-still. No sign of any storm, not even any bits and pieces of the mast which had snapped in half and fallen into the water. No floating cushions. Nothing. Maybe the waterspout had sucked everything away.

  “I’m sorry, man.” Jeremy sat back on his heels and wiped at his face. He was sweating, and his hand shook. “I think she’s…gone.”

  Duane fell upon Sheila’s body, frantically pressing his ear to her heart. To her mouth, feeling for any breath. He pulled her against him, rocking her again. “No. No. No.”

  Jeremy put a hand on his shoulder. Squeezed. “I’m sorry. Did something hit her head or…?”

  “NO.” Duane jerked away from the touch. “No. Nothing. She’s just sleeping. She just…passed out. She’ll be okay.”

  He closed his eyes. Held her close. She was his life, this woman. He’d been planning to ask her to marry him on the last day of their vacation. Something romantic, a ring in a glass of champagne or maybe take her for a walk along the beach at sunset, not sunrise, Sheila’d never get up that early on purpose without being suspicious…

  “She’s gone, man.” Jeremy tried to touch him again, but Duane rounded on him.

  “No. She’s not.”

  Tyler pulled his brother away. “Leave him alone. We have other shit to deal with. The mast, man. It’s fucking destroyed. The boat…”

  “There’s a motor, right?”

  Tyler looked toward the back of the boat, and his eyes narrowed. Mouth went grim. Duane had seen him look that way a few times, when someone thought they were pulling something over on him in a deal. When he was losing at poker or pool. It was a mean look, and Duane was always glad it had never been leveled at him.

  “Fuck. Fix the motor,” Ty said. “Yeah.”

  The brothers moved away from him, and that was fine. They could take care of things. They knew more about sailing than Duane did. They’d been boating all their lives, those pricks. Grew up on the coast, had their own sailboats, belonged to the frigging yacht club. Whatever. What the fuck ever.

  He had more important things to worry about.

  “Honey, you just rest. I’m here.” Duane stroked Sheila’s hair back from her face. He held her close. She was cold, she felt cold, wet from the ocean, but the sun would warm her. The sun would warm them both.

  25

  The fucking motor was nothing but a piece of mangled shit, and it didn’t look like the damage had been done from the storm. There were bolts missing, for fuck’s sake, and while Jeremy had heard stories of tornados pulling nails from boards, he doubted the waterspout had done this. There were flowers growing in it, for fuck’s sake, tiny blue and purple flowers. It was a piece of shit motor that hadn’t worked right in years, probably, and nobody’d thought to check it before they went out.

  Ty had tried to blame him for it, but Jeremy wasn’t putting up with that shit. Ty had been the one to book the boat, make the arrangements with that shifty son-of-a-bitch who owned it. Ty should’ve been the one to make sure everything was in working condition, but instead he’d been too fucking interested in if the galley had enough booze and snacks and the cabin had a bed big enough to bang his girlfriend in.

  Christ.

  Kelsey. The fuck was she doing with his brother, anyway? It tore him up a little, watching how she fussed and cooed over him, when it was Ty’s own stupid fault he’d hurt his hand. That was what happened when you punched a wall, dumb ass.

  All of this was Ty’s fault.

  Jeremy watched his brother shrug off the comforting hand of the woman he supposedly loved, what a crock of shit, his brother couldn’t love anything but himself. He got everything handed to him, and he still couldn’t appreciate it. All he did was ruin everything and never even cared, because he knew there’d always be something else waiting for him.

  “Just let him go,” he said to Kelsey when Ty snarled at her. “When’s he’s pissed off like this, it’s better to just let him go.”

  “I’m standing right here, douchebag. I can hear you.”

  Jeremy didn’t even look at him, because if he did he was sure he’d punch his brother right in the fucking mouth. He kept his eyes on Kelsey, that beautiful face. Those eyes that had seen so much. That mouth, God, that mouth he’d imagined so many times, the one that tasted so sweet…

  “Hey, dickbag. Stop staring at my girl.”

  Kelsey was between them again with a hand on each of their chests, off balance between them because she couldn’t put weight on her foot. “Stop it. Both of you. Stop it. We have more important things to worry about.”

  “Like what? Where he’s going to put his dick next?” Ty sneered, focused on Jeremy.

  Jeremy stared back without flinching. The only reason he didn’t let fly with his fists was because Kelsey was in the way, and he didn’t want to hurt her. His brother wouldn’t even care, that cocksucker. He’d already pushed her, yanked her arm and bruised her. He didn’t give a shit about her except that if someone else wanted her.

  “We need to make an inventory of supplies.” Kelsey looked at each of them. “Water. Food. Medical supplies. And we should think about getting Duane to let us take care of Sheila, somehow.”

  “Take care of her how? Bitch is dead.”

  Kelsey flinched. “Ty.”

  Sheila was dead, there wasn’t any question about that, but Duane wouldn’t hear of it, and he wouldn’t give her up. He was useless, sitting in the front of the boat whispering to her. Fucking creepy as shit.

  “Someone will come for us,” Ty said. “Coast guard. Someone.”

  “The radio’s broken. The motor’s broken, and our mast is also