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Angela widens her eyes into her wine glass. “Awkward,” she mouths at me.
We continue to eat in silence and eventually Chelsea gets up to go to the bar and Angela starts talking to a man who sits down next to her. Mac casually puts his hand on my upper thigh and I flick it off discretely under the table. He glares at me and raises his brow in a silent dare.
I lean over and whisper into his ear, “I don’t appreciate your scratching post boring the fuck out of me with her sleazy tales about you. I’m going back to the room.”
“The hell you are,” he growls in my ear as he grabs my hand.
“Stay here and fuck her on the pool table,” I whisper angrily as I rip my hand from his grip.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he fires back.
I sit back and fake a smile as my eyes hold his. I hesitate for a moment, shocked that he just said that. Shocked that anyone would even say that. “This is why I’m out of your league, but thank you for the reminder.”
His face drops and he sits back in his seat. I know I’ve got him.
“Stick to your whores.” I stand and throw my napkin onto the table and walk out of the common room and down the hallway. I feel my heart beating hard. I know he is going to lose his shit, but I can’t make out with him—or should I say pretend to make out with him—knowing full well she is waiting to take her turn after I go to bed. What kind of fucked up situation is this? Why do I even care? It’s seriously pissing me off that I do.
I know they all share beds, but I can’t even share a kissing partner. I’m just going to stay in the room for the rest of the trip. I’m not doing this to myself again.
I can’t pretend that this is okay with me. It’s bloody not. I walk down to our door and then I glance up at the metal staircase leading upstairs. I need some fresh air. I head up and out onto the deck. I am greeted by a brilliant light and stare up at the full moon as it lights a blazing line in the water underneath it. The ocean breeze dusts across my face and an instant calm sweeps over me. I inhale deeply and a smile crosses my face. It’s nice up here. The sound of the ocean lapping on the side of the boat is a reminder of just how remote a place on Earth this is. How do these people survive in these conditions for so long?
I walk over to the side of the ship and stare out over the dark, cold sea. The sound of the ships engine is a drone and I can hear the sea lapping at the sides of the boat.
Pirates. Modern day pirates. Governed by their own set of rules with nobody to answer to but each other. For a long time, I stare out over the sea as I contemplate how and why the people on this ship live like this. Don’t they miss land? Don’t they miss having their own home, their own man or woman to love?
My thoughts go to Todd and my confusion returns—different emotions all rolled into one. I miss him. I hate him. I’m glad I found out. I wish I never found out. Part of me knows that they were going to tell me and strive to be together. I stare out over the water. Are they together now?
How long was it going on?
I turn around and lean on the side rail and look back over at the shipping containers all lined up in rows. I wonder what exciting places they have been to? The things they have seen. If only they could talk, I’m sure they would have an interesting tale to tell. I stare at the large orange container in front of me. The door has a padlock and there is a number on the top left hand side on the end.
1230
A thought crosses my mind and I frown as I look at it. That’s just like…
I bite my thumbnail as I try to remember. That image of the piece of paper on Mac’s phone had numbers on it. Numbers just like this. I look around to the containers surrounding me.
1130
1163
1145
I narrow my eyes as I think. I can’t remember what was written next to the numbers. I’m going to have to look at his phone again tomorrow when he goes to work.
Whose piece of paper was that and why did he take a photo of it? If it was his, he wouldn’t have needed to, he would have had a hard copy.
Hmm, interesting. I stand for a while longer and with each moment my mind begins to race a little more.
I walk around in the dark as I stare up at the containers. I run my hand along the hard metal end of a container. There are millions and millions of dollars of drugs on this ship.
If my suspicions are correct, Mac knows exactly what drugs they are and what shipping containers they are kept in. I look back out over the water as I think.
And now, unbeknown to him, so do I.
Holy shit.
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