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I cock my head to the side, utterly confused.
No matter which way I look at this, there is no doubt that once I arrive at my destination, the chance to escape will no longer be an option. Which means I need to escape now.
“Is Boss”—a sob gets trapped in my throat, but I pull it together—“a nice man?” I’m not stupid. From the small snippets he’s fed me and the conversations I’ve heard in passing, I will soon have to obey Boss. I don’t know who he is, or why he wants me, but he’s the reason this happened, and he’s the reason I will fight with my life to flee.
Sighing, Saint takes his time once again, grappling with how much he should disclose. But when he looks into my dogged eyes, he knows I won’t settle for anything but the truth. “No, he is not.”
I nod, biting my bottom lip as tears trickle down my cheeks. “Thank you for being ho-honest.”
Saint nods once, but he’s clearly not happy with what’s headed my way. So the question is, why is he doing it? If not for money, then what else? What else can one be paid with that they would risk their lives for?
The Russians emerge, and I quickly wipe away my tears, refusing to show weakness. “I’d like to go back downstairs, please.”
My request throws Saint for a loop, but he doesn’t ask me why. He leads the way, and I follow like the good captive that I am because even though Saint has shown me a lick of kindness, I won’t mistake him for anything other than what he is—and that’s a monster.
He’s leading a lamb to the slaughter, but the one thing he doesn’t realize…is that I’m not a lamb. And I never will be.
She won’t break. No matter what I do, she will not submit. Each time I punish her, I feel whatever small shred of humanity I have left slip away. I know this is wrong but so is delivering her to that soulless asshole.
I don’t have a choice. God save my soul.
Day 6
IT’S BEEN SIXdays since life as I know it changed forever. It’s been six days since I was bound, gagged, and kidnapped. It’s been six days, and all I’ve seen are the anonymous faces of three men who mean me harm. And during those six days, I’m still no closer to figuring out what the hell is going on.
It’s been two days since I buckled and behaved like the good little girl Saint wanted me to be. I said yes, ??????, no ??????, three bags full,??????, and in return, he only cuffed me at nighttime. During the day, I could roam “freely.” I use the word sparingly because it was always under the watchful eye of one of my captors.
I haven’t seen another soul for days, but after the last encounter I had, it’s probably a blessing in disguise.
It’s almost been one week since I last saw Drew. Each minute and each second erases a small part of him from my mind because the farther away we sail, the farther away I am from going home. There doesn’t seem to be a light at the end of the tunnel because I’m still no closer to communicating with the outside world.
Mark is still his ogling disgusting self, which is exactly what I hoped for. What I didn’t hope for, however, was Saint ensuring we’re not alone together for too long. Saint also sees the lingering glances and the need for Mark to be close to me when he can.
The only saving grace is being able to feel the sunlight on my skin because sometimes, if I close my eyes really tight, I can pretend I’m sailing the seas on my honeymoon with Drew. In my make-believe world, I’m happy, but more importantly, I’m free.
The fantasy doesn’t last long, and I’m soon transported back to reality. A bleak reality where I sit among my captors…waiting.
The afternoon is reasonably warm, and in the mystery box downstairs, it appears Saint has an array of items for me. I was thankful I was able to shower every day and change clothes, but whoever packed my kidnap kit was also thoughtful enough to include a bathing suit because apparently rocking a tan when enslaved is the new black.
If I wasn’t so damn hot, I would tell Saint to wear the royal blue one-piece himself, but here I am, sitting at the front of the yacht, looking out into complete nothingness. Saint sits across from me, doing his damn sudoku puzzles. The man is obsessed.
I draw my knees into my chest, resting my cheek against my legs. The ocean is a tranquil blue, and on any other day, under any other circumstances, I would be eager to jump into the water and bask in its beauty. But not today. Because today, all I can think about is how if I did jump, I would never want to surface ever again.
Sighing, I hate that I think this way because I’m succumbing to Saint’s wishes—I’m breaking. Yes, I may pretend to submit, but the longer I pretend, the harder it is to remember what the end goal is.
Turning my cheek subtly, I peer at the radio. Fifteen, twenty steps top, and I would be free. But how, how can I get to it without being caught? I’m running out of time.
When I hear a beep from Saint’s pocket, I close my eyes, as it’s just a reminder that he also has an escape route—some fancy phone that looks like something from the 80s, but I know it’s a satellite phone. But getting to that is impossible as it’s just as much a part of Saint as his arm.
I need a miracle.
Saint stands, speaking in a language I don’t recognize, which has me focusing my attention back on him. He waves to Mark who nods and takes the wheel.
What’s going on?
“In about five minutes, we’re going to have company.” The sharpness to his tone has me sitting upright, wondering why he’s suddenly so capricious. “I need you to do me a favor.”
I scoff. Now I’ve heard it all.
