Out of Luck

by Kendall Talbot

  A lopsided sign, its bottom right corner touching the water, announced that they were heading toward Marina Hemingway. She turned to Marshall, grinning at the prospect that they were nearly there.

  But he must’ve read her thoughts and offered a shake of his head.

  So she went right back to stewing over the day ahead and watching their approach to the shore.

  The marina materialized as a city of ship masts and pretty lights, but Marshall veered away from it, heading toward a bay that she hadn’t noticed. Rather than go down the middle, Marshall hugged the boat to the shore. They passed rickety jetties and a few newer ones.

  Marshall turned on a torch and lowered the engine a fraction. And as the whine in her ears abated, she contemplated how she’d ask Marshall for more help. He struck her as a man motived by two things: honor, a trait born out of his lengthy navy career, and money, a thing of necessity.

  She was prepared to use both.

  The bay gradually narrowed to a river, and that, in turn, became a small creek that Miss B Hayve wouldn’t have fit through. They passed a few more jetties with small, practical boats tied up alongside. This area was old, and if Charlene had to guess, she’d say it was also verging on underprivileged. Her mind flashed to her tin of money, nestled amongst her handbag and wet clothing in the suitcase, and she wondered if she’d been foolish for letting go of the prepaid, locked safe-deposit box in New Orleans.

  Finally, Marshall angled the boat into a jetty that was leaning at such an angle, it was a wonder it was still standing. He looped a rope around the closest pylon to the shore and turned off the engine. The silence screamed in her ears as if the motor was still going. It made her think of her earlier question.

  “So that wasn’t exactly a discreet entrance.” She wriggled her right ear for emphasis.

  He shrugged. “Exactly. If we were trying to be discreet, we’d attract attention as someone trying to sneak in. This way we looked like every other boat heading into shore after a fishing trip.”

  Charlene offered him an approving grin. Marshall seemed to have thought of everything. “So, what now?”

  “Grab as much as you can. Anything you leave behind will be gone when we get back.”

  “Oh.” The first thing she grabbed was her case—not for the sodden clothing, but for the money stashed inside. The second was the cane. Marshall smirked at her choices. When she’d told him about the cane and, in particular, what she’d found inside, he’d seemed to be fascinated by it. He’d asked a few questions, mainly clarifying why she hadn’t thought to ask Peter about it. And she’d responded that she wished that she had asked.

  Without a word, Marshall dashed into the bushes with his flashlight, and she stood, hands on hips, wondering what the hell he was doing. A repetitive screeching sound announced his return through the bushes, and when she spied him again, he was pushing a rusted-out wheelbarrow that no longer had rubber on the tire.

  Between the barrow and her, they managed to carry everything from the boat. Lugging her suitcase over the gravelly track, and carrying one of the bags they’d filled with pantry items, she followed Marshall into the bush and wondered if she’d ever see American soil again.

  Chapter 15

  The two most important things in Marshall’s life right now were both in jeopardy. One was his boat. Despite the Cuban flag and changing her name to a boat registered in Cuba, she was still exposed. If the Cuban coast guard found Miss B Hayve without any crew aboard, they’d seize her for sure, and he’d never see her again. Of that he was certain. And while he had her insured, an insurance payout would be a pipe dream. Not when he’d left her to ride the swell in Cuban waters.

  The other most important thing in his life right now was Charlene.

  Despite knowing her for less than twelve hours, she’d sure made an impact. She had gone from being a complete stranger to a woman he was totally infatuated with. And that was no mean feat; it’d been a decade or so since a woman had captured his interest.

  And it wasn’t just her beauty. It was everything. Her innocence. Her bravery.

  Charlene was no ordinary woman.

  She was tough too, with nobody to turn to, and no assets, other than those mysterious bundles of money. Not too many people could handle that.

  Several years ago, he’d woken from his alcoholic stupor long enough to realize that he had nothing. No money. No home. No friends. No life. Ending his life had never been an option. He wasn’t a quitter, and he wasn’t about to start then. The only things he had going for himself were his navy pension and his love of the ocean. Fortunately for him, he’d made it work. He went cold turkey from the drink and set himself up in a rusty shed that rattled like a beast in a storm. But he considered himself lucky. The shed belonged to a little old lady who exchanged her measly accommodation for his handyman skills. And that allowed him to save nearly every cent of his pension. Miss B Hayve came first, and he lived on her until he had enough to buy his own little shack. It’d taken him three years to recover from his destitution.

  As he listened to Charlene’s footsteps behind him, he wondered how long she’d take to recover from the grenade life had thrown at her.

  She was quite literally a damsel in distress. And while he’d never considered himself as any kind of knight in shining armor, he was good at a few things. Saving people was one of them. He’d lost a few civilians in his time—six, to be exact. Every one of their faces was permanently etched into his brain. Every one of them deserved to live. It was a shocking thing to have an unwitting hand in someone’s death. But that was the nature of war. And not just war. Some of the people he’d tried to save were the product of their society. No clean water. No medication. No food. He’d seen enough desperate situations to know that most people didn’t know how lucky they were.

  That was how Aleyna’s family was before he’d met them. Dirt poor. His ex-fiancée, her five brothers, and her parents all lived in a tiny shack that leaked in the rain and had a dirt floor. They ate once a day, and that was usually day-old bread and whatever else they could scrape together. Things had changed significantly for them since the day Aleyna had reluctantly taken him to her home to meet her family.

  Ironically, that meeting had been the demise of their relationship. Not because he was put off by her upbringing. Hell no, it was the opposite. It made him realize that she wasn’t in love with him at all. She was in love with what he offered. Stability. Money. Freedom.

  When he’d broken up with her, he’d promised to help. Yet he was pretty certain Aleyna hadn’t believed him at the time. She was wrong. He just hoped Aleyna and her family were willing to return some of that favor now.

  Without his flashlight and the trodden-dirt track weaving through the underbrush, he’d get lost for sure. He’d trekked this exact trail seventeen times, twice that if you included both ways, and each time was more grueling than the last. The damn vegetation grew thicker and more robust each time. Dangling vines threated to strangle them around every bend, if they didn’t claw the shit out of them first. Based on the occasional wince from Charlene, he expected her to have her share of scrapes and scratches by the time they reached their destination. Not that she was complaining. He liked that about her.

  Her willingness to go along with him, a virtual stranger, without a million questions showed her determination. Or stupidity. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t do stupidity.

  He reached the small clearing and moved to the left so Charlene could step in beside him. When she did, he maintained the flashlight’s angle at the ground, yet there was enough light to see her face. They’d been on the go for seven hours, and he had no idea when she’d last slept. Add to that the ordeal she’d had in the water and she should be close to passing out. Her eyes were bloodshot, her breathing labored. Though she looked shattered, what stood out the most was her willpower.

  “Where are we?” she whispered.
r />   “My ex-fiancée’s house.” There was no real point in elaborating. “Let’s go.”

  “Oh.” She stepped in beside him, and together they climbed the small rise to the ramshackle house he knew was at the top. As they approached, he noted they’d put on a back patio since he’d last visited. It wasn’t a masterpiece, but he could already tell their home was improving.

  He rolled the wheelbarrow in under the cover and went to the back door. It would be unlocked. There was no point locking doors around here. If someone wanted to get in, they’d smash their way in. Besides, there was nothing of value inside anyway.

  “Hey, Yelena, ¿qué tal algunos de tus famosos cafés?” Marshall called from the cramped yet tidy kitchen.

  “What’re you doing?” Charlene shot him a glare.

  “Waking them up. You might want to stand back for this.”

  He snapped on the yellowed bare light bulb dangling from the ceiling, and three seconds later, Aleyna’s mother came waddling into the room with her arms open and her expression joyous. “Hola, Marshall, qué bueno verte.”

  Yelena got smaller every time he saw her, but her strength didn’t falter. She cupped his face and pulled him down so she could kiss both his cheeks. “Es mucho tiempo desde que te vemos. Creí que nos habías dejado.”

  Yelena was complaining that the times between his visits were too long. She said that every time. He glanced at Charlene to see her slink back against the wall in time to miss the barrage of family members who poured into the room. There were only three bedrooms in this home, yet ten people lived under the roof. Nearly all of them were now crammed in the kitchen, hugging and kissing Marshall.

  Marshall watched Yelena’s eyes widen when she spied Charlene, then she wriggled through the crowd and repeated her greeting for Charlene too.

  The old woman turned to Marshall with an enormous, yet mostly toothless grin lighting up her face. “Has traído a tu esposa?”

  Marshall chuckled at Charlene. “She thinks you’re my wife.”

  Charlene’s eyes brightened, and she shook her head. “No, no, we’re just friends.”

  “She doesn’t speak English. Hardly any of them do.”

  “Oh.” Charlene frowned. Her confusion must be running at maximum capacity about now.

  The room was chaos, but once Marshall told them that he had indeed brought supplies, the bedlam shifted from the kitchen to the patio outside. “No la maleta.”

  “I just told them not to touch your suitcase, but you may want to grab it just in case.”

  Charlene raced outside. “Sorry. Excuse me, I’ll just take that—” With her suitcase in hand, she edged back from the frenzy, and Marshall stepped in beside her.

  “I try to bring them as much as I can. Some supplies are very scarce here.”

  Rusian, Yelena’s husband, held up a fishing tackle. It wasn’t a new one, but Marshall knew it would be Rusian’s prized possession for a very long time. “Ahh, si, si, gracias, gracias.”

  Yelena plucked out the medicines, soap, shampoo, creams, toothbrushes, sugar, coffee, and jars of spices and scooped them to one side.

  “I know it looks chaotic, but don’t worry.” Marshall winked at Charlene, who was staring wide-eyed at the mêlée. “They’ll have a look through it all, and some of the boys will beg Yelena to keep some things, but it’ll be pointless. She runs the house, so who gets what is totally up to her. Even Rusian’s claim to the fishing tackle will be up for debate.”

  “It’s really nice that you do this.”

  He shrugged. “It’s the least I can do. They lost the best son-in-law in the world when I separated from Aleyna.”

  Charlene chuckled and playfully slapped him on the arm. “So she doesn’t live here?”

  “Yeah, she does, actually. She and her husband and their daughter, Mariana.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hi, Marshall.” He turned to the voice. “Speak of the devil.” He leaned down to kiss his ex-fiancée’s cheeks. “Hi, Aleyna. You look well.”

  “Gracias. So do you.”

  “Thanks. I’d like you to meet Charlene.” He couldn’t quite read the expression on Aleyna’s face, but it was probably a mixture of suspicion and jealousy. Aleyna didn’t like it when someone challenged her in the beauty department. And even though Charlene had battled through a rough couple of hours, her natural beauty still shone through.

  The noise from the action on the patio grew explosive when they found the chocolates and coffee at the bottom of one of the bags. Seven adults fighting over three packets of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups was not pretty. Charlene covered her ears, and her mouth dropped, but it was clear she was enjoying the spectacle.

  “How about a coffee, Aleyna?”

  “Si, come on. They crazy.” Aleyna rolled her eyes and turned.

  He indicted to Charlene to follow his ex-fiancée back into the kitchen. Marshall didn’t have much time, and the ticking clock on the wall wasn’t any help. It was already 4:30. In two hours, the sun would begin to glow on the horizon. He was cutting it close.

  Aleyna busied herself with filling the kettle on the stove, while Marshall gestured for Charlene to sit.

  When Aleyna turned back to him and wriggled her eyebrows, he got straight down to business. “We need your help.”

  Aleyna crossed her arms and eased back so her butt was against the hundred-year-old stove. “I’m listening.” Even after all these years, she still glared with animosity toward him.

  None of the donations he made each visit seemed to make up for the freedom she thought their so-called marriage would have brought. They’d been engaged for a total of nine months when he’d called it off. He’d have done it sooner if he’d had the guts. But it wasn’t just Aleyna he was letting down. It was her whole family. Their only daughter had been offered the opportunity for them all to escape their sheltered life.

  He’d ruined that opportunity.

  He met Aleyna’s fiery gaze. “I need you to take Charlene to Legendarios del Guajirito tonight.”

  “What?” Charlene blurted. “What about you?”

  “I’ve gotta get back to Miss B Hayve.”

  “You’re leaving me.” Charlene’s eyes just about popped out of her head.

  “I have to move her into international waters or she’ll be seized.”

  “Yes, but…you’re leaving me?”

  “I got you here. That’s what you wanted, right?”

  Her jaw dropped, her eyes blinked, but that was the total extent of her reaction. “But what will I do?”

  He liked that she seemed disappointed about him leaving but then realized how desperate that made him seem and smacked that thought away. “Do whatever it is you came here to do.”

  “But—”

  Her eyes pleaded with him, and he dragged his gaze away to look at the clock. “Aleyna will look after you. Right, Aleyna?”

  Aleyna’s arms were crossed, and her glare intense. Her spunk had been one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. But she’d probably never forgive him. Even with a husband who looked after her better than he probably could have, especially when he’d been deployed for over ten months of every year of his enlistment. “Aleyna?”

  She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Good. She’ll need some sleep. Her clothes need washing too.”

  “What am I?” Aleyna blurted. “Her fucking mother?”

  Marshall plucked out a hundred-dollar note from his pocket. “No, Aleyna, you’re looking after a paying guest.” He placed it on the bench.

  “Marshall, I can—”

  He waved his hand to cut Charlene off. “Get a bit of shut-eye. Then do what you need to do.” Marshall stood. “I’ll be back for you at midnight tonight. Don’t be late.”

  Charlene stood too, and the pause between them was agon
y. His gut told him he should stay. And he wasn’t happy with that—he usually listened to his gut. But his brain told him to get the fuck back to his boat. Charlene would be fine. Come this time tomorrow, she’d be safely back onboard Miss B Hayve, and the two of them would be scooting back across international waters.

  “You look after her, Aleyna.”

  Aleyna huffed. “I will.”

  It took all his effort to stride away. He went to Aleyna’s family to say good-bye, and Yelena robbed a couple of minutes of precious time as she tried to talk him into breakfast.

  With the tick of the clock resonating in his ears and his flashlight showing the way, he began to run.

  Chapter 16

  Charlene watched openmouthed as Marshall sprinted down the hill and disappeared into the underbrush. It was like watching a plane crash on the news. Even though she knew it was going to happen, she still couldn’t believe it when it did.

  But this was exactly what she’d asked for. To be taken to Cuba.

  She felt like a complete fool.

  Charlene turned to Aleyna, whose steely gaze and folded arms radiated animosity. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to put you out like this.”

  “Is he your boyfriend?”

  Charlene nearly choked on her tongue. “No. Not at all. We only met last night. I barely know him.”

  She huffed and turned to the kettle. “Didn’t look like that to me.”

  “Well, I can assure you it’s true.”

  Aleyna stepped up to the sink, and when she looked at Charlene over her shoulder, she braced for the next question. “We were lovers, you know.”

  “Yes, he told me.”

  Aleyna poured the hot water into a cup and offered it to Charlene. “What else did he say?”

  When Aleyna placed her hands on her hips, drawing attention to her womanly curves, Charlene decided that the Aleyna wanted to hear praise. She thrived on attention and commanded it too. And because Aleyna had just been declared Charlene’s new best friend, she decided she’d better lay it on thick.