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I just can’t figure that man out. One minute he’s nearly cutting off my toes. The next, he’s letting me outside to explore the island, which I assume is private. There’s not enough land for it not to be.
A private island...
My stomach drops as I realize my chances of escaping are next to none. All there is for as far as the eye can see is water.
It isn’t until we’re a few feet from where the ocean meets the land that I turn around and look behind us. I swear my mouth pops open so violently you can hear it.
Tall, stone walls. Barred windows. Thick pillars lining the ends of the massive concrete porch. It’s like a stone fortress nuzzled in the center of paradise. Thick trees cover three sides, making only the front of the house, if that’s what you would call it, visible.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but this most certainly wasn’t it.
“This way.” Niko snaps me out of my thoughts and I swivel back around to see him walking down the beach. His hand is resting on the gun that’s holstered on his hip, as if he’s waiting for me to try something.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted. But while I may be defiant, and my first instinct is to fight back, I’m also not stupid. Sometimes one has to play the long game. The only thing running now would do is leave me with a bullet in my body, or worse, dead.
We walk for several minutes in silence, me taking in every inch of my surroundings, scouring the island for something,anything, that might help me get away. But I see nothing. Just beach and trees all around.
We’ve nearly circled the entire island when I get my first glimpse of hope. A small boat dock on the left side of the island, two speed boats bobbing next to it in the water.
“I wouldn’t think about it if I were you.” Niko’s voice startles me and I look up to see him looking at me.
“Huh?” I ask innocently.
“I’ve seen that look before. Trust me, you don’t want to try it. The dock is guarded by two men at all times. Try to make a run for it and they’ll likely kill you on sight.” As if to make his point, he taps his finger against his own gun.
I swallow hard.
How did he get it so right? It’s as if he could read my thoughts at the exact moment I was thinking it.
“And considering I’m the one Mateo has entrusted with keeping you safe and out of trouble...” He lets the statement hang.
“I wasn’t...” I start, realizing denying or admitting anything at this point will likely not change anything, so instead I snap my mouth closed and keep my eyes focused ahead as we make our way past the boat dock.
Before I know it, we’re back in front of the fortress. I’ve decided that’s the only word that fits the structure. I glance back the way we came, making note that the boat dock is less than a five-minute walk from the front door. If I could sneak out at night, I could likely slip down the beach undetected.
While I did see two men standing outside the small building next to the dock, I dismiss what Niko said about it being guarded at all times. Certainly, people have to sleep and I highly doubt there’s enough people on the island to keep two people there at all times.
I’m quickly eating my words when instead of going up the steps to the front porch, Niko leads me down a stone path hidden by bushes and trees until you’re right up on it. It extends the length of the house and bends around to a courtyard that’s surrounded by stone walls with large open archways and no ceiling. Inside are at least a dozen men. Some are sitting off to the right where various pieces of outdoor furniture are placed. Others are huddled together talking. Each one of them is scarier and more intimidating than the last, and I don’t miss how every single one of them has a gun holstered on their hip, or how they all look at me as we pass.
I feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. My skin burns from their stares. I’m so consumed by the feeling of being gawked at that I almost overlook the man shackled to the far wall until we’re practically right in front of him.
My feet falter and I suck in a sharp breath.
There are two metal shackles bolted to the bottom of the brick wall and two placed a couple of feet above the man’s head. Each one is connected to a thick chain that leads to a cuff, securing the man’s arms and legs. His body is slumped forward, placing all of his weight on his extremities. His hands are nearly purple, and though I can’t see them, I’d venture to say his ankles and feet are in just as bad of shape.
“Why... Why is he like that?” I croak, my throat suddenly too dry to even swallow.
“Him,” he grunts, tipping his chin toward the man. “He fucked up a shipment.”
“So that got him hung to a wall? What was in the shipment, diamonds?”
“Does it matter?”
“Um, yeah,” I say like it should be obvious.
“In this line of work, there is no room for errors. The smallest infractions can have dire consequences if left unchecked.”
“So what, this is your way of checking them?” My nostrils flare.
