Project Hyperion (A Kaiju Thriller) (Kaiju #4)

“Get off me, Shane!” Lori Brooks shouted. She shoved at the larger man, but it did as little good as her words. Shane Brown, her boss, was nearly twice her size and was off his ass drunk. She’d punched, scratched and kicked when he first locked her on the ship’s back deck, but it was like he couldn’t feel any of it.

At first, she felt a small sense of victory knowing that the physical evidence would guarantee he lost his company and family, and he would spend a long time in jail, but then it occurred to her that he could simply kill her and toss her overboard. No one would be the wiser. He could explain away bruises and hide scratches. These thoughts fueled her desperation and she cried out again.

But either no one cared, or more likely, no one could hear her over the thump of music or the roar of the engines, which were directly beneath the rear observation deck to which she was now pinned.

Shane could hear her, though. “This is what good assistants do, Lori. If you want to have a job in the morning, shut the fuck up.”

He pinned her arms above her head with one of his and used his free hand to hike up her skirt. When she fought harder, he punched her in the stomach, taking the air, and the fight, out of her.

“You think this was cheap?” he said, motioning to the boat. The hundred foot, Victorian style steamship that sailed out of Portsmouth, NH, had three decks, three open bars and was filled to capacity with three hundred and fifty people—all employees of Shane. And not one of them had any interest in the musicless, noisy, back deck. That, or he had people watching the door for him, which was possible. A lot of the guys in the company viewed Shane like some kind of messiah, probably because he threw parties like this and gave them company perks that included under-the-table bonuses and prostitutes, many of whom were spending the night in the ship’s six bathrooms, “servicing the head,” Shane had joked.

And Lori knew about it all. Hell, she’d arranged some of it. She didn’t approve, but she was being paid to look the other way, at least that’s what she thought. When Shane called her to the back deck, to “discuss the schedule change,” she should have realized her boss was too drunk to discuss anything, but the booze cruise had been cut short. Their return hadn’t been scheduled for another hour, but the captain said something about an emergency in Maine and turned around early. The revelers had continued partying, unconcerned with whether or not the drinking continued while they were at sea or docked, or if someone screamed for help.

Clutched in pain, Lori couldn’t keep the man from spreading her legs.

“Stop,” she said. “Please stop.”

He laughed and said, “Don’t whine. Tomorrow you’ll get a raise. Next time, a car. I’m a generous guy. Give me what I want, and you can have whatever you want. Fight me and I’m serious, you’ll be jobless in the morning.”

That Shane thought she cared about keeping her job revealed either how drunk he was, or that he was a monumental dolt, which was possible. He’d inherited the company from his father. Never had to really work. Just let the board handle most things and took care of his “boys”. She’d been hired on as his assistant just a month ago, and had been fairly well harassed during that time, but she could handle flirtations from an older boss, even one as repulsive as Shane. The pay was good, but she now understood she should have quit after the first day. They weren’t flirtations, she thought, they were promises.

As her boss undid his pants, there was no doubt he was going to make good on those promises.

She thought about her husband. He’d told her not to come. That it was a waste of time. They had kids to put to bed, after all.

Her kids.

What would she tell them? If she had Shane arrested, there would be a trial. Her kids would know everything. Would they look at her differently?

But that wasn’t even the worst option.

What if he did kill her?

She would never see them again. They would never see her again!

She felt his hand on her inner thigh, reaching higher, fumbling to pull her underwear to the side. He let go of her hands and used his body to pin her down. Using both hands, he positioned himself above her.

She pounded on his broad back, but it was useless; her lack of leverage and his drunken state kept him from feeling any pain. “Help!” she screamed as loud as she could. “Someone help!”

She clenched her eyes shut, pushing tears over her cheeks. She had never felt such fear, desperation and loathing. She would kill him if she could. Her mind filled with thoughts of Shane beaten to a pulp, hanging by a rope and shot in the head. She’d wanted nothing more in her life. “I’ll kill you!” she screamed.

A wave of nausea rolled through her body and she felt sure it was too late.

But it wasn’t Shane.