I tear the house apart, emptying out my bags, turning over furniture, checking pockets.Where the fuck is my phone?
My eyes dart up to the cameras hidden around the room. Undisturbed. Without my phone or laptop, I have no way of knowing who broke in—but they would’ve been scrubbed the second the timer went off, and I didn’t type in the disarm code.
Shit. Shit. Shit.What should I do?
Was the door’s alarm beeping before we got here, or did it only start when Ordus tried it?
What if it was Tommy’s brother, John? He’s the worst of the two. I’ve never seen a genuine smile on his wife. She always wore long sleeves to hide the bruises that would peek through if she raised her arms.
I don’t know any of the pirates by name, but I’ve seen faces. What if it’s one of them? I mean, if it were, they wouldn’t be fucking with my head by only taking two items. My house would be empty or destroyed.
It wouldn’t have been some random person either—who came for my tires and personal electronics, but left the TV and wallet sitting on my bedside table?
I tip over the mattress. Nothing. It’s a small place. There’s nowhere else it could be. I scrub a hand down my face, ignoring Ordus’ calls, the wedge driving deeper into my soul as I feel the phantom pains from the horrors the Gallaghers would rain down on me.
But right now, there’s only one thing standing between me, the Gallaghers, and freedom.
I zero in on the gun lying on the floor. I could shoot Ordus and get out of here, finally be free of him and this wholematebullshit.
But I hesitate.
I stare at the weapon, imagining its weight in my hands as I aim for his head. I feel my finger press against the trigger, the recoil rippling up my arms.
I can’t do it.Why can’t I do it?
I can’t bring myself to grab the gun and put a bullet through the monster’s skull. The thought alone makes my chest constrict.
A cry tears when I’m swept off my feet and spun to face a hard, bare chest. And it’s like a dam burst. I couldn’t stop myself even if I tried. I kick and shriek, sink my nails into anything Ican reach. He keeps saying my name. The wrong one. Or is it the right one?Cindi.
Every time I blink, there’s a different person holding me.
Tommy.
Ordus.
Tommy.
John.
My arms become plastered to my sides. I throw every ounce of my power into throwing them off, but each failed attempt sends my panic rocketing to new heights.
“You can’t take me!” I’d rather die than go back.
“Cindi,” Ordus repeats. Puckering tentacles tighten around me.
Tentacles.
Ordus. Not Tommy.Ordus.
Even though my body is stiff, battling with all my might, he easily contorts me to his whim, cradling me against his chest so I have no choice but to feel the vibrations of his purr against my cheek. My lungs expand with my sharp inhales. His sea breeze scent washes over me. The sounds coming from him hit like a bucket of warm water, drenching my coiled muscles, dampening my twisted sobs.
His large hands are firm around my back, keeping me steady in place. Suckers pulse where our skin touches. The same misbehaving tentacle travels up and down my body in a soothing caress. A storm cloud drifts into my mind that turns my thoughts into fuzzy static.
Adrenaline ebbs out of me, dwindling my fight with each minute until I’m nothing more than a pile of sweat, bone, and tears in the arms of a monster.
A monster who has done nothing but try to take care of me in his own twisted way. Trying to feed me. Fussing over the wounds on my feet that have healed over. Putting a pasteon my sunburned skin when I was sleeping. Using his limbs as cushioning against the hard rock.
“Cindi, tell me what is wrong.”
