Page 90 of His Keepsake

Why was this happening?

We had been abducted by someone. I ruled out Grayson. He would never go this far.

Whoever this was, it was my fault. Someone thought I’d incriminated them. It was the CNC party—it had to be that. Was the whole world bugging my phone?

The tape over my eyes became soggy with my tears.

A while later, long after Charity had ceased to cry, someone entered and came to me. Every step they took made my heart thud louder. My fears spiked to new heights.

“You’re next, Emme. Tomorrow. Then we sell you to someone. You don’t get away with messing with my life.” His boot landed in my side, with a thud of pain, and I choked and wheezed in air.

Who was this?

“It’s Martelle, in case you don’t remember me,” he said from much nearer. I guessed he had knelt next to me on this blanket-covered floor. His fingers stroked my face. “I look forward to fucking you until you bleed. Lucky for you, you’ll fetch a good price so I can’t carve you up with my knives. Not like your friend.”

I tried to scream at him, and it came out a high-pitched grunt. Who was this?

“If Martelle doesn’t ring a bell. Think of Wolfman.”

I stilled. Him. Fuck.

He walked away, and a door closed. The boat engine started up again.

I began to shake. I’d killed Charity. He might be lying? But even if he was not, I knew they’d hurt her badly.

My fault. All mine.

Somehow, I slept, and when I woke this time, I was dying to pee and there were more screams. A man was screaming. I wondered who the poor bastard was. Abrupt bangs made me wonder if those were those gunshots. The chill in my flesh deepened, and I shivered, once, and then could not stop shivering.

Not Grayson? Could it be him?Had someone told Martelle where we were? Martelle seemed willing to do anything to those who offended him. My forehead corrugated as I held in most of a sob. I wriggled for the umpteenth time and tried to pull loose from the plastic ties binding me. My ankles and wrists were burning from my skin wearing away.

The door crashed open, and I held my breath.

“Emme? You’re Emme? We are here to help you.”

I nodded and tried to see through the tape.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

This was no one I knew. I angled up my head as well as I could.

“Leave her hands tied and her eyes covered. Undo everything else and bring her on deck,” Axl said. “We have things to settle.”

Axl was here. Hope rose then crashed. What was he doing?

“Okay.”

They were keeping me under control. What was Axl doing? They were rescuing me but kept me tied? That seemed ominous.

I didn’t ask about Charity because I wasn’t sure who was a safe person to ask. I was also afraid to find out. My poor friend. I tried not to imagine what they had done to her. Knives, he had said.

Hot tears spilled. Charity had never been anything but good to me—to everyone she met. How could someone so bright and fun, and warm hearted be killed like her life was inconsequential? The world would be darker without her in it. What was I going to without her if I ever got out of here? How was I going to tell her family?

Christ, it was all my fault. Me and my stupid, reckless impulses.

The tape came off my mouth, and my feet were freed.

“Walk, Emme.”

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