DAMAGED: The Guitar Hero (Battle of The Bands Book 1) by Brooks Harley

Author:Brooks, Harley [Brooks, Harley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harley Brooks
Published: 2015-12-19T08:00:00+00:00

10

Fractured Time

Jordan

Jess tossed and turned all night, the rustling of sheets loud in our small room. Four feet separated our twin beds and while I’d never felt claustrophobic on the ship before, last night I swore I could feel every ripple of water pass beneath our floor. Her Majesty did plenty of pitching, squeaking and groaning as if she, too, was tired of Jesse’s constant movement. I figured the wind kicked up sometime in the night and a lanyard had loosened…or we we’d broke from the dock and floated freely.

Or maybe Jesse was correct in his paranoid suspicions and someone had cut us loose, the thought springing me from the bed and onto my feet in seconds. I snatched my jeans from the floor and quietly as possible in my panicked state, closed the door to our stateroom, leaving Jesse snoring into his pillow.

Comforted somewhat by the fact no alarms blared as I raced up the spiral staircase to the main salon, I slowed my breathing and punched in the code releasing the doors from the dining area to the galley. Every section of the ship was secured with bulletproof doors requiring a code to unlock.

There were five main areas under lockdown; the sleeping quarters, the living room and dining salon, the galley, the main bridge also known as the pilot room, and the engine and bunk berth in the belly of the ship. Everything else, including the top bridge, or afterdeck, were accessible from the outside.

Once the yacht was engaged in security lockdown, however, any outside movement showed on the vessel’s digital video transmission in the secured office below deck, as well as the dock guard’s and my father’s private cell receptor. Outside lights and audible alarms were also supposedly engaged, not to mention intruders being subject an onslaught of hidden surveillance cameras. Due to who owned Her Majesty, our watery neighborhood had more security measures in place than any other slip in the entire marina, and the likelihood someone would get away with anything on any ship along our pier, was next to impossible.

Which is why Jess and I had to acquire special clearance to board the yacht. Taking it out of the marina required jumping through several fiery hoops to get past the Border Patrol units guarding the bay, and even then, the leash short as to how far away we could sail.

When I peered out the glass doors separating the galley from the stern deck and realized wind messed with the yacht, not would-be murders, I sighed with relief. The sunbathing platform shimmered inside a swirling mist and gunmetal gray clouds with weighted bottoms holding rain yet to spill, hunkered low in the sky. The flagstaff on the corner of the taffrail bowed with the mad whipping of the jack displaying our family crest.

Through one of the galley’s scuttles, I glanced farther down the pier at the two red pennants above the guard station flapping a high wind warning. No third storm flag had hoisted, but by the looks of the clouds overhead, it wouldn’t be long before one rose.

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