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Stace will blame Stucco, I know he will. I hope he kills him when they fight.
Hang on a minute…
Horror dawns.
I didn’t tell Stace that Stucco is planning on killing him. I forgot all about hearing that conversation outside the container. Things were so hectic and then the fight and then…
My hands go to my hair in a panic. They were going to call for a maintenance call in the middle of the night.
I get a vision of Stace walking the ship in the dead of night alone.
And those fuckers…
Oh my God. I put my head into my hands.
What do I do?
Nothing. You’ve got away with it. Don’t do anything stupid.
This is drug money, fucking take it.
I feel sick. They will kill him.
They will kill him and throw him overboard and then blame him for the diamonds.
He will get the blame for something he never did
I push my thumbs into my eyes as I think.
No, no no, this can’t be happening. Stop thinking about it. Get on a plane and go to Europe now. The diamonds are there for twenty-four months if I want. For half an hour, I sit in the back of the cab with my mind in overdrive until finally the driver turns to me over the seat, breaking my thoughts. “We are here, Miss.”
I glance in at the hotel and after a moment I make the stupidest decision I know I have ever made.
“Can you wait here for a minute, please, while I run in and get my things? I need another ride.”
“Where you want to go to, Miss?”
I glance at the clock on his dashboard. I don’t even know if I have time to make it, but damn it I have to try or I will never forgive myself.
“The shipping dock.”
* * *
I lie on the bed in silence. It’s 8pm and Stace hasn’t come back from his day’s work. I made the ship and boarded, unnoticed.
We have been sailing for two hours and I have been in the cabin waiting for him to come home.
Part of me knows that I didn’t want him to know I was on board until it was too late because I’m scared he wouldn’t want me here.
Part of me knows I will a die a little if he doesn’t.
I’m not here for him, anyway. I’m here as a humanitarian, I remind myself. I may be messed up, but I can’t live my life with his murder on my conscience. What kind of a human being would I be if I knowingly let him die? It should be no big deal that I’m here, anyway. It’s only two weeks until we get to Puerto Rico and then I will have time to dispose of the guns and warn Stace about the planned attack.
It was a smart decision to come back. I’m just covering my tracks, that’s all.
* * *
I’m pacing. It’s 10pm and Stace hasn’t come back to the room.
