Life in the Danger Zone

by Patricia B Tighe

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Copyright © 2016 by Patricia B. Tighe

  LIFE IN THE DANGER ZONE by Patricia B. Tighe

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance. Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Georgia McBride Media Group, LLC.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  ePub ISBN: 978-1-945107-68-9 Mobi ISBN: 978-1-945107-69-6

  Paperback ISBN: 978-1-945107-70-2

  Published by Swoon Romance, Raleigh, NC 27609

  Cover design by Hunter Blue

  For Leslie Davis Guccione, whose critique of an early version of this novel made all the difference.

  Author’s Note

  Though this story is the last in The Zone series, the events depicted take place before the first two books. Therefore, it is technically a prequel.

  One

  Rose

  My grandmother set her zippered tote on the security scanner’s conveyor belt and looked over her shoulder at me. “Funny how we have to do this all again, isn’t it?”

  “Seriously,” I said and stared up at the crisscrossed ceiling girders of the warehouse. “How much trouble can they be expecting on a ship anyway?”

  Grams shrugged and walked through the body scanner.

  I unzipped my blue floral backpack to pull out my plastic bag of toiletries but stopped myself. This wasn’t the airport, just an incongruous warehouse on a dock in Venice—no one needed to see my tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Abrupt laughter echoed across the building as four people milled around the entryway.

  A sudden frustration filled me. Why did Lindsey have to go and get herself grounded? She could’ve been on this trip with me. We could’ve been laughing together. Instead, I was about to spend a week on a cruise with my grandparents, whom I loved, but it just wasn’t the same. Lindsey was dramatic. Lindsey was a little crazy.

  Lindsey was not here.

  Footsteps sounded on the concrete floor, shaking me out of my self-pity. Right. Get a move on, Rose. The group from the doorway headed toward the security area. I didn’t want to slow them down, so I shoved my backpack onto the conveyor belt and strode through the body scanner. The uniformed female attendant gave me a patient smile. How long had I stood there looking like an idiot? Long enough. My grandparents were already strolling toward the door that led to the dock.

  While waiting for my backpack, I let my gaze drift over the noisy group behind me. Two girls with golden-brown skin and dark curly hair, one shoulder-length and the other chin-length, placed their tote bags in bins for the conveyor belt. The girl with the shorter hair was dressed simply in shorts and a breezy pale-green top. But the other one wore an abstract patterned ankle-length skirt in blue and purple with a white tank top. She also had on a navy sunhat—the whole outfit screaming sophistication. I wiped a damp palm down the side of my stained crop pants.

  A teenage guy with dark hair nudged the sophisticated girl. “Hurry up, Sophie. There’s a line behind us now,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face.

  My heart rate picked up. I was such a sucker for a one-sided smile, even though he’d lied. There was no one behind them. The girl didn’t even look at him. “Relax,” she said, sounding like she said that to him every day.

  The man behind him dropped a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly.

  “Miss?”

  I jerked. The security guard had moved right beside me. She gestured to my backpack, which sat there in all its flowery glory waiting to be picked up. Sigh. That’s what I got for eavesdropping. “Oh. Thank you.”

  She nodded and went back to her previous position.

  Right. Time to get out of there. I didn’t want to actually meet the people behind me. At least not when I had a giant sweat stain gluing my tank top to my chest, and my makeup had long ago melted away.

  I yanked my backpack up by one strap and started walking as I swung it in a wide arc onto my shoulder. A thunk and pinging noises rang out behind me. I wheeled around. One of my journals splayed open on the floor, while pens rolled in every direction, along with lip balm, a small container of baby powder, and … oh no. My stomach lurched. Was that a tampon under one of the tables? Not going to pick that up. It had ceased to be mine. I should’ve emptied my backpack completely before getting ready for this trip. I didn’t even need the stupid tampon right now. At least its plastic wrapper was still intact.

  For half a second, no one moved. Then the girl in the shorts said, “Oh,” and rushed around to pick things up. I sank to my knees and scrabbled for the pens at my feet.

  “Here’s something,” the boy called out.

  I couldn’t look. Please don’t find the tampon. Please don’t. It would be the perfect icing on my embarrassment cake. Clutching my gel pens so hard they bit into my palm, I clambered to my feet.

  The girl who’d acted first glanced over her shoulder as if making sure the other two had gotten everything, and then held out my baby powder, lip balm, and a Sharpie. “I hate it when that happens,” she said with a smile.

  I tried to smile back, I really did, but I was so useless when it came to new people. If only Lindsey were here. She would’ve come out with a self-deprecating comment to make everyone laugh and feel relaxed. I dropped my handful of pens into my backpack and then did the same with the stuff she’d gathered. “Thanks,” I managed to say.

  She nodded, then headed back to pick up her tote. Which left the other two staring at me. Really, this guy didn’t look anything like the girls. Were they siblings? His face seemed a little pink, though, and I forced my gaze down to his hand. The tampon. Of course.

  The sophisticated girl, who must’ve noticed my sick expression, snatched the tampon from him and gave it to me hidden under my journal. With a sheepish look, the boy backed away. “Don’t worry,” the girl whispered. “Happens to everybody.”

  I huffed out a quiet laugh. Her gentle voice made the knots inside me loosen a little. “Wish it didn’t,” I whispered back.

  She gave me a quick smile. “Gotta get my stuff. See you on board.”

  “Right.”

  She hurried away. I dumped everything into my backpack, zipped it with more force than necessary, and then raced off to catch up with my grandparents. What a great beginning.

  ***

  After my grandparents and I checked in and were issued ID/keycards, we made our way to our cabins. It didn’t take long. Unlike those huge ocean liners, the Wanderlust was a “four-masted sailing vessel” that only carried about a hundred and fifty passengers. So it was just a trip down the stairs and halfway along our hall before we reached our neighboring rooms.

  “Oh, I forgot something,” Grams said with a slight frown. “I’ll be right back.”

  “All right,” Grandpa said, watching her head off.

  “What was that all about?” I asked.

  Grandpa shrugged. “She’s probably going to sign us up for some tour.”

  Oh boy. I sure hoped not. Now that Lindsey had abandoned me, my trip plan was simple—reading in the sun and reading in bed. That should keep me busy. Maybe, and this was a big maybe, I’d go for a swim.

  In th
e little alcove in front of our two doors, Grandpa raised his keycard. “You ready?” he asked, his faded blue eyes gleaming.

  My heart lifted. It had been a long time since we’d played one of the trip games my grandfather had instituted years ago. “Hang on.” I yanked my keycard out of my shorts pocket and positioned it near the slot on my door. This used to be harder when I was little and had to raise my arm to get the card in the right spot. “Okay, ready.”

  Grandpa cleared his throat. “One, two—” He jammed his card into place, and the mechanism made a whirring noise.

  “Hey, you cheated. Whatever happened to three?”

  He laughed and pushed open his door. “I didn’t cheat. You just spotted me a couple of seconds because I’m so old.” He hunched over, trying to look feeble.

  “Right. That’s exactly what I did. This isn’t over, you know. I’ll have my revenge.”

  Grandpa grinned and wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “We shall see. Talk to you in a few.” And with that, his door thumped shut.

  I shook my head and went into my own room. Here it was—my home for the next week. I set my backpack on the floor beside a tiny table with two seats, kind of like a booth in a restaurant. Hazy light shone through two portholes, falling across twin beds that were so close together you’d have to turn almost sideways to walk in between them. Small cabin, but without Lindsey, I had plenty of room.

  I sank onto one of the beds and let out a long exhale. I’d much rather have the little irritations of sharing a small space with my friend than room to stretch out everywhere. But she wasn’t here, and it was time to move on. Have a little fun. Right.

  Some twenty minutes later, after I’d put all my clothes away and was sorting my backpack stuff into the top dresser drawer, a knock sounded on my door. I opened it to my grandfather and a short, youngish, dark-haired man.

  “Rose,” my grandfather said, “this is Darl, our cabin steward. He’ll be taking care of our rooms for us.”

  I smiled politely. Why did we need to know the name of our stewards? I figured they’d be in and out of our rooms doing what had to be done and leaving it to look like it happened by magic. Just like the delivery of the suitcases to our rooms.

  Darl began a quick welcome in an accent I didn’t quite understand but finished with such a huge smile that I couldn’t help smiling back.

  He nodded and headed out the open door just as Grams showed up. She pushed a strand of silver hair behind her ear and waved a handful of papers at us. “There are some fantastic excursions this week, which we can look over and then decide what we want to do.”

  “You mean you didn’t sign us up for anything?” Grandpa asked.

  She looked at him like he was nuts. “Of course I did.”

  Uh-oh. I tightened my grip on edge of the dresser.

  He laughed. “I knew it! Where are we going?”

  Grams handed him the papers, then turned to me. “I can’t believe our luck. There are enough young people on this trip that the cruise director decided to assign a tour guide specifically for them. They’ll be taking you all on private excursions. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  My throat felt like I’d swallowed a rock. “Is it?”

  “Of course it is,” she said, waving a hand so close that I had to step backward. “You’ll be able to spend time with people your own age instead of being stuck wandering around with a bunch of gray hairs.”

  Someone passed my open door on the way down the hall. I lowered my voice. “But Grams, I’m perfectly happy to spend time with you and Grandpa.”

  “And you will, but now you have the chance to meet other young people.” She narrowed her eyes slightly. “I know how you are, Rose, and with Lindsey not here, you’re likely to hibernate.”

  I tried to clear the rock out of my throat, but my voice still came out raspy. “Is there something wrong with that?”

  Grandpa slung an arm over my shoulders. “Yes. We want you to experience adventures on the Adriatic Sea. Delve into Croatia like never before.”

  “Been reading a travel brochure?” I asked.

  He winked. “Besides, you won’t have to be with that group all week if you don’t want. Will she, Gail?”

  He said it simply enough, but a wordless communication passed between my grandparents. Maybe he was convincing her to lighten up. I could only hope. After another few seconds, she spoke. “Not all week but long enough to get acquainted.”

  That left it up in the air. “How many days is that?” I asked, trying not to sound snippy. My mother had given me the two-minute “don’t do anything to spoil your grandparents’ trip” speech the day before we left. I couldn’t exactly act up right at the beginning of the cruise.

  “At least two,” Grams said as if that was obvious to everybody. “The first get-together is tonight after dinner.” She chuckled. “Oh, come on. Don’t make that face. It’s not that bad.”

  “You’re not the one being forced to hang out with people you don’t know.”

  My grandparents laughed. “No, I guess we’re doing it voluntarily,” Grams said.

  “There might be good-looking boys in the group,” my grandfather said, squeezing my shoulder.

  I wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse. Especially since unknown cute guys usually made my tongue tie itself in a knot. I let out an exaggerated sigh, hoping it might make them feel at least a little guilty.

  Grandpa headed for the door. “I need to finish unpacking.”

  “Right,” Grams said. She followed him but paused in the doorway. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I keep forgetting to give this to you.” She pulled an envelope out of her tote bag. “Your mother handed it to me as we were racing out the door. I believe it’s from Lindsey.”

  Really? Lindsey wrote me? How weird. Though probably not surprising since her parents were so mad after she snuck out of the house that they’d taken away her phone and computer access. “How’d Mom get it?”

  Grams placed the greeting card-sized envelope in my hand. “I’m not sure. Anyway, I’ll see you in a bit.”

  I closed the door and stared at my name written in green swirling letters on one side of the envelope. Lindsey had actually used a gel pen. Stranger and stranger. It was probably just an apology card of some kind. She was good at apologies. If only she’d quit doing things she needed to apologize for. I broke the seal cleanly and pulled out the card.

  Two

  Sam

  After dinner, my cousins and I sat in a malformed circle in the back corner of the lounge with other teenage-looking peeps, doing our best to ignore the adults who drank and interacted with a bantering piano player. Pretty easy to do actually. Our “young people’s group” tour guide, a woman with short reddish hair and a roundish face, kept moving about, grabbing papers and putting them back down, and gesturing to the waiter to bring us more sodas. She pressed her fingertips against her white uniformed chest like she was trying to remember to breathe. Heh. Totally not ready for this meeting.

  On my left, a dumpy kid with a buzz cut, probably no more than twelve or thirteen, let out a guffaw, showing a mouthful of braces. “What? Lord of the Rings is so stupid! I can’t believe you like that movie.”

  The girl who’d spilled her backpack all over the warehouse that afternoon shifted in her seat. “You didn’t ask me if I liked it,” she said softly. “You just asked me about the last movie I’d seen.”

  “Well, did you like it?” the kid asked.

  “Favorite movie ever,” she said, her expression a complete blank.

  “Gah,” the kid said, exaggerating the gagging sound. “It doesn’t even compare to Avengers: Age of Ultron or any of the other Marvel movies.”

  He talked on, not noticing that she wasn’t paying attention. She idly rubbed the skin in front of her ear and stared off toward the door. But wait. Was that a lip twitch? Was she trying not to laugh? She covered her mouth for a couple of seconds with one hand and looked at the ceiling. Yup, somethi
ng glittered in her eyes. She had to be holding back a laugh.

  My lips start to curve, but then my cousin Alexis reached across to snag another brochure off the low table, almost knocking over a little glass container of cocktail peanuts. I bumped her with my shoulder. “Watch it.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me and then settled back in the middle seat of the couch, studying the new brochure as if memorizing it. Maybe she wanted to take over the tour guide’s job. I wouldn’t put it past her.

  In contrast, my other cousin, Sophie, sat at the opposite end of the couch biting her thumbnail while a blond guy leaned forward in his chair, speaking too quietly for me to hear. She chuckled, and he flashed her a grin of bright white teeth. A blush raced across her cheeks.

  Oh, no, no, no. I did not want to spend the week trying to keep Sophie out of trouble. It had happened too many times before. She had a strange quality that most guys couldn’t resist. She was beautiful, of course, but so was Alexis. Sophie had a vulnerability, though, as if she wore a sign on her chest that read, You’re amazing. I’ll love you no matter what.

  And this guy with his Euro-style shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck and hair that kept falling across his forehead was definitely a player. Earlier he’d been talking to the hot girl who sat on the other side of him, but it hadn’t taken long for him to switch his interest.

  It wouldn’t be such a big deal, but Sophie had been dumped by a jerk a month ago and didn’t need someone messing with her. Sometimes I wished she would act more like Alexis, who treated most guys with a “come any closer to me, and I’ll put you to work” attitude. It was terrifying but effective.

  I nudged Alexis. “You see what’s happening over there?” I asked in a low voice.

  “Yes,” she said, still staring at the brochure, which she raised to hide her words like a televised football coach on the sideline. “It’s worse than you think,” she whispered. “He’s French.”