13. Melee
Chapter 13
Melee
Calvin
I am running toward the crew mess. Brianna screams and then Shayla. Their voices blur together. Someone screeches like a monkey, and I pick up speed. Things have been tense the whole season, and we haven’t even gotten truly underway yet. But Brianna isn’t helping things, that’s for sure.
Haley blurts something out on the radio, but I’m so darn close it just echoes with a high pitch between her set and my ears.
Haley holds Shayla’s wrist, and a knife spins on the floor. It flashes with reflections of the lights as it spins. Brianna has backed herself into the corner of the bench.
“What’s going on?” I flick my gaze between the three stews.
“Calvin, secure Shayla,” Haley grunts out.
“I’m not going to hurt the cunt. I just wanted to scare her. She fucking cut my braid off,” Shayla yells in my ear. “Who does that? Cuts someone’s hair off? You’re mental!” She thrusts her index finger at Brianna.
The tension in the room spins like a storm. “It’s a wig. And it was in my bed space.” Brianna shakes her head at Shayla. There was talk amongst the exterior team today about some kind of disagreement between them, but I didn’t expect things to go this far. Who would?
“It’s not a wig, it was my damn hair! You’re a psycho.” Shayla throws her hands up in the air. “She needs to go, Haley, or I’m going.” Shayla takes a breath, and I think she’s calmed down, but then she lurches for Brianna, her hands flailing about.
Haley nods at me, but I’ve already grabbed Shayla’s wrist. “Calm down.” Shayla has a temper. Everyone knows it. I don’t want to be around her. Not after what happened a couple of seasons ago. But cutting someone’s hair because it was flopping over the edge of the bed? Shayla’s not wrong; Brianna is far out of line. “Are you good?” I look into Shayla’s brown eyes. The girl is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, but she wouldn’t stab anyone. But if someone cut my hair off while I was taking a well-deserved nap? I get it.
Time seems to slow. She nods once. And I let go. My arms are flexed, and I’m ready to jump if Shayla goes to attack again. Or Brianna. I exhale, my heart racing. Girl drama―I’m not sure why some guys think it’s so hot.
“Go with Haley to see the captain.” I position myself between Brianna and Shayla.
“Come on, let’s get you up to the bridge.” Haley puts her hand on Shayla’s back.
“I’m not going to work with her. She assaulted me.” Shayla huffs.
“Yup. Let’s go.” Haley’s voice is calm enough that I stop and watch them leave. Brianna slides out of the bench. But Shayla runs up the stairs toward the bridge.
Haley and I glare at Brianna, her eyes darting between us in apprehension.
“Move.” Haley nods at her remaining stews, her voice laced with an air of authority, like she knows how to take on tough situations.
Brianna has barely moved. Even with the death stare Haley gives her. Brianna rounds to the other side of the crew galley, away from us.
“Brianna can’t just walk away after pulling something like that,” Haley whispers to me.
I shake my head, my eyes never leaving Brianna. “She won’t. Captain will handle it.”
Haley nods and retreats, leaving me alone with the sulking Brianna. But then Haley stops on the stairs, her eyes meeting mine. Brianna is still in the crew mess. “Calvin,” she starts, uncertainty seeping into her voice. “Do you... do you think Shayla’s okay?”
The question catches me off-guard. It’s not that Haley’s not caring―she is―but so far, she’s seemed more about the rules, the structure. “Yeah, Haley, I think she’ll be fine.”
She gives me a brief nod, her face unreadable, before climbing the stairs after Shayla. Man, I wouldn’t want to be Haley now. They are already so undersized as a team. And to lose Brianna? Even if she’s not worth anything, she’s still a warm body. A crazy one, but at least she’s something. I just hope Captain doesn’t let them both go. The less stew work I have to do, the happier I am. Oh, I’ll help out as much as I can, for sure. But spending the day in the laundry room is my own personal torture. No, I take that back. Having to serve drunk guests until the wee hours of the morning―that’s got to be the worst.
I catch a last glimpse of her retreating figure and turn my attention back to Brianna, steeling myself for the confrontation that’s about to come. Brianna is making her way back to the crew cabins. “Stop right there.”
“I’m going back to my cabin.” She stands defiantly, her head cocked, her arms crossed over her chest.
“No, you’re not, Brianna. You assaulted another crew member. You’ll be lucky if you don’t go to jail.”
Her eyes widen, and tears pool on her lashes. Crying women bring me to my knees, but not this one. She cut off Shayla’s hair.
“Come. We’re going to see the captain.”
“Calvin, Calvin, Captain. I need you to bring Brianna to the bridge. Now.”
“Copy, Captain. I’m working on it.” I snap the radio back onto my belt. “You heard him. Move.”
She doesn’t move.
“You can’t hide from your actions, Brianna. They always come back to find you.”
“She was being so loud, and my head hurt.”
“Yeah, well, if you let Shayla get at you, a lot more is going to hurt. Move. I don’t want to drag you up there, but I will.” I give her the look, the one my old captain used to use. But I guess I have yet to perfect it.
She takes a step forward and stops. The scowl on her face is repulsive. She’s acting like I did something wrong. But damn. I follow her up the stairs, and on the first deck she tries to make a run for the gangplank off the rear deck. But I catch her forearm, and she yanks herself to a halt. Where does she think she’s going? If this is how this season is starting... I hate to be superstitious, but it doesn’t look good for the rest of it.
“The bridge is one more deck up.” There’s a hint of sternness in my voice. I don’t let go of her arm this time. A quick knock on the side of the bridge wall and I push Brianna in. “Captain.”
He’s sitting in his chair. Anders is looking at the security camera, and Haley is holding Shayla’s hand.
Anders turns to the captain. Anders is the same age as the captain. I like him―he’s solid. “What Shayla says checks out. She came into the crew mess, pulled things out of the fridge, took a cutting board and a knife out to cut a tomato. Brianna says something. Shayla pulls her hair to one side―looks at her hair. And screams. Shayla has the knife in her hand when she turns around. Then Haley runs into the kitchen and Shayla drops the knife.”
All eyes turn to Brianna, whose face scrunches up tight. “She threatened me.”
“I didn’t. I was holding a damn knife when you pointed the fuck out that you cut my fucking hair off,” Shayla yells again. Haley has a firm grasp on her hand.
“Everyone, sit down,” Captain orders.
Shayla squints at Brianna. She raises her head. Damn, even I’m scared. If the cap doesn’t fire Brianna, she better sleep with one eye open.
“Shayla, Calvin, if you can wait outside, I’m going to talk to Brianna. Hayley and Anders, please stay.” I close the door behind us. Glancing back, I see the captain motion for Brianna to sit on the back bench of the wheelhouse. My eyes find Haley and the captain. They’re standing close. I can’t see either Anders or Brianna through the window.
Outside, the bustle of the dock continues. I notice a flock of seagulls circling above, a brief distraction from what’s going on onboard. A bosun from the next slip over echoes through the open sliders. It’s a normal day, but it’s not.
I follow Shayla out to the main salon. “You okay?”
Shayla storms to the sofa, cursing under her breath. She bounces on the velvet sofa, pulling a horse pillow into her lap.
In any other circumstances, the absurdity of our surroundings, from the luxurious sofas to the decorative pillows, is laughable.
Something shifts in my gut as I watch the captain and Haley so close. It’s not jealousy; that’s a futile emotion in our line of work. It’s more of a pang of concern, a faint alarm bell ringing in my head. Haley and the captain are both seasoned seafarers, but the look they shared is one I associate with particularly heavy storms.
I need to get back to work, but I can’t help but check on Shayla. We have our rocky past, but she’s good at her job. And we’ve worked things out. At least, I hope we have.
I sit on the edge of the sofa. I don’t touch her to comfort her. “I’m sorry it happened to you.”
“Thanks. It’s just hair. But still. I paid a lot for these extensions. They’re the good kind, and she even cut off some of my own hair.”
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say now, so I nod.
“If I lose my job over that cunt, I’m going to really stab her.” Shayla is fuming, taking off the braid she has left on the other side, and comparing it to the cut half of her hair.
I laugh. I shouldn’t, but I do. “I’d keep the threats down. But I don’t think you’re going to lose your job. Anders says the camera covers you.”
Shayla plays with the end of her hair. It’s still long, but nowhere near as long as it was before. Unbraided, it hits her in the middle of her back.
“Sorry about your hair.”
“It’s not all my hair, but that’s not the point. She’s a looney, and the captain needs to give her the ax.”
“What’s all the commotion going on?” Easton has poked himself out from around the bar.
“Nothing,” I say. Because you don’t let the guest know about any of the difficulties that are going on with the crew.
“The third stew is a crazy bitch. Brianna.” Shayla shows him her mismatched hair.
Easton takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed, brows furrowed. “Brianna Snodgrass?” He shakes his head.
Shayla and I both turn to him.
“Yeah,” I say. “How do you know her surname? She’s been in her cabin the whole time.”