Romance on the Edge 01 - Hooked

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m off visiting another dimension.”
    “Yes, we do.” Wanda tied the last knot in a twelve-stitch suture. “I need a few more minutes to finish wrapping this, and I’ll give you some pills that will take you to that other dimension.”
    “I love you, Wanda,” Sonya said.
    “Yeah, sure you do. All my patients say that when I give them narcotics.”

    Garrett had plenty of help getting Sonya back onboard the Double Dippin’ .
    Too much help.
    Sonya was back to cursing with all the attention. Who knew the woman could swear with so much creativity. He’d found himself educated, and he’d been in the military.
    Judd had returned to the Calypso for the camera and handed it to him so Garrett could document the damage to the Double Dippin’ . Wes had located a broom and dust-pan from someone at the cannery, which Garrett also took.
    “You’re not going in there without me,” Sonya said, her skin ashen, which made the cuts look angry and sore. Funny, he felt like she looked, and if she kept fighting him on every little thing, he’d blow his cool.
    “Peter made you a place on deck where you can sit and rest while I investigate.”
    “This is my boat, and nothing happens on my boat without me present.” She might be hurting but she was still as determined as ever.
    Nikolai laid a hand on her uninjured shoulder. “Sonya, let him do his job.”
    She turned to her grandfather. “If you were in my place what would you do?”
    “That’s not fair,” Nikolai said with a frown. “I’m a—”
    “ Man ?” Sonya supplied for him with a raised brow. “I’m captain. I know you’re worried about me, but I’m fine.”
    Nikolai pursed his lips and huffed. “I don’t like it.”
    She gave him an understanding smile. “I know. How about directing the boys so that we’re ready to tender when Garrett and I are through?” Nikolai nodded, though Garrett knew it grated against the man’s character, and went to the bow of the boat where Wes and Peter hung out.
    “Sonya,” Garrett tried again, “You’ll be in my way.”
    “Deal with it.” She threw the same words at him he’d thrown at her, when they were at the Infirmary.
    He tightened his jaw and clamped his lips shut before he said something he’d regret. Then he turned and marched his way up the stairs into the pilot house. She, of course, followed.
    At the door, he slid on another pair of latex gloves before entering. He ordered her to stay. She surprised him and did. He leaned the broom and dust pan next to the door and took out the camera. He snapped a few pictures of the broken window, close-ups of the remaining shards stuck in the frame, and then the spray pattern of the glass.
    “Why aren’t these windows made of tempered glass?” If they had been, she wouldn’t have been cut like she was.
    “It wasn’t something I thought to ask the previous owner. After this, though, I’ll replace all of them with tempered glass.”
    “Good.” He studied the broken pieces of the windowpane, trying not to focus on the amount of blood mixed in with the mess. Most of the glass centered where she would have sat and scattered over the floor. He checked the bunk, making sure no glass was present. “I want you to sit down.” Losing as much blood as she had, he was surprised she was still on her feet. Most men wouldn’t be, but then most men weren’t as stubborn as this woman. She didn’t argue with him, and took a seat, leaning her head against the wall. Wanda had given her a gray South Naknek, “Fish Capital of the World” sweatshirt to wear since her clothes had been too bloody to save. He wished she’d take one of the pain killers Wanda had given her, but he understood why she didn’t. As soon as he was finished, she’d be tendering fish. It’d be at least an hour or so until she could lie down and rest.
    She quietly watched him as he continued to look for a bullet. Frustration ate at him when he didn’t immediately find one. The room wasn’t that big. The opposite window wasn’t broken so the bullet didn’t do a through and through. He clicked on the flashlight he carried on his belt, and shined it into the corners of the floor. Nothing flickered back at him, but then his light caught something peculiar. He snapped a picture, then bent and picked it up.
    What was a rock doing aboard a drift boat?
    It wasn’t like someone could carry a rock the size of a walnut onboard in the tread of their