Chapter 41
Forty-One
Next morning came and Bàba still hadn’t said a word to her about what he and Nick saw yesterday. Dread clenched at her chest and gut. It was only a matter of time.
But for now, she had work to do.
A commotion ahead of Angie drew her attention when she stepped onto the docks to start her shift, and she quickened her pace. A group of male dock workers gathered outside the east outhouse, steps away from the shoreline, Marc and Ian among them.
She walked closer, brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”
“Couple divers got us some more mermaids late last night. Cam and his guys are gonna come and get them later and harvest their magic. Said we weren’t allowed to help, though.” Ian replied with an obnoxious laugh.
“I wonder why.” Angie let out an exasperated sigh, and her stomach contracted as she pushed her way through and into the outhouse. She finally saw what the crowd was gaping at. Nick stood amongst them with his back turned to her.
Two mermaids languished in large tanks, banging on the glass and trying to climb their way out, their eyes bulging with fear.
In the tanks beside them, Cyrus and Aurora floated, both pale and limp.
Angie’s heart wedged in her throat and both hands flew to cover her mouth.
Her stomach heaved at the sight of them.
“Hey man.” Ian nudged Marc. “Check ‘em out.”
Marc leered at the frightened mermaids. “Which one would you pick? The one with the long or short hair?”
Ian pretended to study them. “Give me the one with short hair. Less hair in the way, the better.”
“Nah, but with long hair, you can pull it,” Marc replied. He licked his lips, walking closer to the tank holding the long-haired mermaid. She shrunk back, and he grabbed his crotch, making thrusting motions while jeering at her.
“Yeah, but how you gonna stick it in a fish?” Ian snickered.
“Who cares? Her mouth works, right?” Marc laughed again.
“Damn right.” Ian nodded in approval. “You know what we should do? Kill the mermen and capture the mermaids. I bet the females sell for more on the market, anyway.”
“Big boys, aren’t you? Talking about violating trapped, helpless women. Pathetic creeps,” Angie snapped. “You give men a bad name.” She faced them, the question she had been wanting to ask bursting forth. “And when the Hells were you two allowed to come back, anyway? Weren’t you suspended?”
The two men stared at her, agape. Marc’s expression hardened, and he snarled. “For your information, little lady, Nick asked us to come back because we’re short-staffed.”
The two sauntered away, whispering amongst themselves. Angie twisted her face and approached Nick, tapping hard on his shoulder. He turned from his conversation, jovial smile fading when he saw her.
“Release those mermaids, and all the other ones you’re imprisoning. We’ve already killed their king and caught one of their princes. If we continue this, the mer will never agree to peace.”
“But you forget something.” Nick paused for dramatic effect. “What does it matter at this point? We don’t need them to agree to peace. We’ll keep taking whatever sorcery they have and we’re going to use that to kill them where they live.”
Angie held up her hands to stop him from continuing. “You’re okay with them killing us, then?”
Nick grabbed her arm, his fingers pinching her skin, and dragged her out the back entrance.
She stumbled to keep pace with him. “You haven’t learned your lesson yet, fish-lover?
You going to run back to fishboy and tell them what we’re doing?
Oh, wait!” He flexed his arm and kept her still so she couldn’t walk away from him. “You can’t.”
“Get off me.” She tried escaping, but Nick was stronger, yanking her back into the outhouse with him.
“You.” He pointed to a scruffy-appearing man that Angie hadn’t seen before. “Take one of those fishes and show the boss’ daughter how our enemies are treated.”
“With pleasure.” Scruffy motioned to several of his colleagues, and they gathered the rolling work table with Cyrus’ tank atop it.
Angie lunged for them in blind fury, but Nick held her back.
Her heart raced and jolted like a tuna fish chasing its prey as they pulled the tank to a corner.
A group of other workers rushed to surround them in a frenzy.
She couldn’t see what was going on, but Cyrus’ screams and wails ripped through the claustrophobic space. Some workers bolted, but a handful stayed to watch.
The mer-prince’s pained cries shattered Angie from the inside out.
Time passed in a blur, and when the workers made a move, Nick tightened his grip on Angie’s arm, forcing her to follow them.
Cyrus came into view. He laid flaccid in two of the men’s arms, on the brink of unconsciousness, his body mutilated with lacerations and bruises, blood trickling down his muscular arms and torso.
Angie desperately wanted to go to him, to treat his wounds and throw him back into the ocean.
Like she had with Kaden, what felt like so long ago.
The memory of the gunshot wound on Kaden’s shoulder, the one she had caused, came back to her.
Her stomach burned with guilt, and she took a deep, pained breath, closing her eyes.
Helpless and still restrained by Nick, her eyes snapped open.
She watched the men walk back to the tanks and, with their collective strength, slide him back in.
Tiny crimson streams snaked out from the cuts on his body.
Through hooded eyes and with slow, languid motions, he put one hand over a laceration on his abdomen, and his free hand over a slice on his opposite arm.
“Nick, how can you allow this?” Her entire body shook. “This is barbaric. You’re sick.”
Nick ignored her and stopped his men on their way back. “Keep the two new mermaids alive and healthy, and don’t drain them too fast. And make sure at some point today, you take inventory and check on the other mer we have. I want a full report by close of business.”
“You got it, boss.” The men ambled away with Scruffy at the helm.
Angie jerked from Nick’s grasp one last time, but he threw his free arm around the front of her shoulders, keeping her back flush against his chest. “I want you to behave, Angela.”
“Don’t tell me to behave. I’m not a child.” She clenched her jaw and clutched at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t budge.
Giving her a hair’s width of space so he could spin her around to face him, he continued his diatribe, his face flushed and eyes manic. “You’re a race betrayer, and you’re crazy. No wonder your mom didn’t want you and offed herself. I can’t wait until your dad finally punishes you.”
His last words ignited a blazing fire in her.
“Fuck. You.” Angie widened her stance and rammed her shoulder into his chest as hard as she could.
When he staggered, she reared her head back, driving her forehead into Nick’s nose.
He stumbled into Cyrus’ tank, and with a violent sway, the worktable rolled backward, the back of the tank slamming into a protrusion from the wall behind it.
A loud crack filled her ears, coming from the tank.
With a loud yelp, Nick failed to regain his balance and teetered before falling to his hands and knees.
Angie glared at him as he began to stand.
Sharp pain detonated behind her eyes and bright white stars filled her vision, but she ignored it. What was that saying about never kicking someone when they’re down, because karma will find a way to turn things around?
“Consider this your karma, asshole.” Fueled by fury and vexation, she gave him a final, swift kick to the stomach with a loud thump.
“And this is for hurting Cyrus.” She delivered another blow, her foot slamming into his crotch.
He fell back to his side and Angie fled, face flushed and hands trembling.
“Angela!” he screamed followed by a stream of what sounded like French curses. Her last glimpse was of him clutching his crotch.
From his lips to her ears, Angie stumbled on a piece of gangway debris sticking from the pebbled ground. When she was safely out of Nick’s earshot, she leaned her head against the warehouse’s wall, tears pricking at her eyelids. This time, she allowed them to fall.
His words cut deep, like a freshly sharpened knife slicing her heart into tiny, tiny pieces.
After a half hour, Angie’s forehead still throbbed as she sat in Bàba’s office, waiting for him. Her fingertips and toes were numb. Nick’s cruel words stung as if a man o’ war had brushed its poisonous barbs along her naked limbs.
He had messaged her minutes ago, asking her to meet him in his office. Saying he wanted to give their high emotions a chance to settle before they discussed what was to happen next. Her feelings were far from settled in light of everything that happened earlier today.
Nick strolled through the door first, one hand over his stomach, and the other holding an ice pack to his nose. Angie stood straight up. “The Hells are you doing here?”
He lifted one shoulder in a casual shrug that infuriated her, and he pointed behind him. “Dad asked me to join.” He sat in the office chair next to Bàba’s desk. “Think you got away with what you did to me?”
Bàba strode in soon after, and took his seat. His usually warm brown eyes were cold as if she were simply an unruly worker he had to deal with instead of his daughter.
The notion was a forceful gut-punch.
It reminded her of sitting in her high school principal’s office when she was fourteen, after she had called Angie’s parents to tell them she skipped school.
The dread as she waited for Bàba and Māma to arrive.
Angie had wanted to scuba dive on the nicest day of summer that year, and hadn’t thought skipping one day of classes was a big deal.
Her parents understandably did, and after berating her for her irresponsibility, took away her scuba gear for a month and made her stay in her room for a week, only to come out for meals and school. She never skipped school again.