I Kidnapped the Mafia Heir, and He Never Tried to Escape novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: Her Father's Boat

Roisin's POV

We took the skiff out to my father's boat at first light on Saturday, with the harbor gray and flat.

The tide was turning.

Gulls stood on the moorings in the mist, and nothing moved on the water but our oars.

Mal rowed.

I sat in the stern in my father's flannel.

I looked at the hull with its chipped blue paint, rising out of the fog to meet us.

Neither of us had slept.

I'd said to him on the dock, "I want to tell him," and he hadn't asked who.

I climbed the ladder first.

The deck was damp.

I walked forward to the wheelhouse, and opened the door.

The cabin smelled of pipe smoke and engine oil and the green soap he used on his hands.

I sat down in the captain's chair at the wheel and put both hands on the spokes.

"Dad," I said.

The boat moved on her mooring.

"They know you were sober."

My voice shook.

"They know it was Padraig. The whole Hall heard him. The old man said his name, and he's going in front of a judge, and nobody's going to call you a drunk again."

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