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Angela grabs my hand and tries to lead me back down the stairs. “Helicopters come to pick things up everyday.”
I frown. “Why?”
She shakes her head. “You can’t be that stupid.”
I look at her blankly because obviously I am.
“This isn’t a normal cargo ship.”
I continue to stare at her.
“This is a drug ship.”
5
I lie on the bed, deep in thought. After lunching with the girls today my mind has gone into overdrive.
He may have saved me.
Maybe he kidnapped me to save my life. They would have just shot me dead on the spot if it were up to them. There was already one dead body, what’s the difference in two? For six days I have lived with him, despised him, loathed my body for being somehow aroused by him, and now I lie here feeling somehow grateful for his intervention. Things could have gone down so differently that night. I try to remember back, and although it’s a blur, I know for certain he wasn’t one of the men who hit me. I specifically remember him saying to leave me alone. Why?
Chelsea said she doesn’t think he is who he says he is. I know that’s true.
His name is Stace. I smirk. it’s a much nicer name than Mac. Where did Mac come from?
I stand and walk over to the porthole and stare out over the sea. What are you up to Stace? What’s your motive?
What happened to turn you to this lifestyle?
He should be back soon and I set about finding something in my shitty bag of clothes to wear. I take out the three dresses and the skirts and tops and lay them out on the bed. There is also a white bikini in the bag. Where the hell would I wear that? One by one, I hold them up to myself and look in the mirror. They all look like shit. The door creaks to announce his arrival and I turn to face him as his huge frame overtakes the room.
“Hey,” he breathes as he walks into the bathroom and washes his hands.
“Hi,” I call as I feel my nerves flutter.
He walks back into the room. “Did you go to lunch?”
“Yes, your girls took me to lunch,” I reply without thinking as I sit on the bed.
“They are not my girls.” My eyes hold his. “Not even close,” he mutters under his breath as he lies down on the bed next to me.
I stay silent for a moment as I contemplate saying this and I know it’s probably not wise, but it’s burning a hole in me. I need to just say it. “Mac?” I watch him, unsure if I am saying the right thing or not.
He raises a brow in question.
“Thank you,” I murmur. His eyes hold mine. “I know you saved me.”
He doesn’t answer, but continues to watch me intently.
“You didn’t have to save me, you didn’t have to protect me from them.” He rolls to his side to face me as I sit next to him. “And…” I frown as I try to articulate my thoughts. “I’m grateful that you went to Chelsea the other night.”
Surprise crosses his face. “Chelsea?” He smirks, and I hesitate unsure what to say. “You think I went to Chelsea?”
I nod quickly.
He picks my hand up and holds it in his. “Do you really think that Chelsea could put out a fire that you started?”
My brain misfires as I stare at him. “I suppose if you have an itch it needs to be scratched.”
