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Off to the right, eight leather chairs surround a large table. A fruit bowl in the center with red apples, bananas, and pears sets off a welcoming vibe. If someone didn’t know any better, they’d think everyone aboard this yacht was here of their own accord.
When a group of men rise from their perches, replacing their playing cards for guns, I yelp, but Saint isn’t intimidated in the slightest. “Where’s the bathroom?” he barks, tightening his grip on my arm.
The one who struck Saint and me, a disgusting man with a bald head and long, thick beard, gestures to a door behind him. When two of them attempt to follow us, Saint shakes his head. “I don’t need you to hold my hand.”
But the man who struck us has other ideas as he raises his gun. “Adrian and Rahil will come with you.”
The two men in question take a step toward the bathroom, but Saint stays rooted to the spot, not at all threatened. “Have you forgotten your place, Diak? You obey me. Not the other way around.”
“The rules have changed since you’ve been gone,” he replies smartly. The other men chuckle in agreement, but their hungry glances don’t go unnoticed. I once again feel like a piece of meat.
“Oh, have they?” Saint quips, walking casually toward Diak, lugging me with him.
The closer we get to the guns and the ravenous grins of these wolves, the more anxious I become. But I trust Saint. And besides, I feel safer in his grasp because I know he won’t let me go.
“Yes. Boss isn’t too happy with you. He doesn’t like waiting, especially for pussy.” Diak focuses his lifeless eyes my way, licking his fat rubbery lips.
Though I have the urge to shrink behind Saint, I stand my ground. I will not show them fear because I can’t afford to show weakness; it will be the end of me if I do.
“But for pussy like this…it might be worth the wait.” Diak attempts to reach out and touch me, but when I hear a snap and a crunch, it’s evident that’s the last thing he’ll attempt for a while. Saint broke his wrist, disarming him with a snap, and then elbowed him in the nose.
It happened in the blink of an eye, but when Diak wheezes and tries to cup his nose with his floppy hand, it seems that’s all Saint needs. The satisfaction I feel when I see blood pouring from his nose should leave me ashamed, but it doesn’t because karma’s a bitch.
The rest of the men stand motionless, ignoring Diak’s cries for help as he drops to his knees. Saint acts as cool as cool can be when he jerks me forward to pick up the gun. I do as he proposes, the hard metal feeling like utter power beneath my fingers.
When the men’s eyes widen, the whites to their eyes revealing their fear, it’s an aphrodisiac. I should be afraid, but I’m not. Am I desensitized to such violence? I could pull the trigger and kill them all. But Saint clucks his tongue, hinting we choose our battles wisely.
I pass him the gun, which he slips in the small of his back.
“What happened to Kazimir?” Adrian asks, and when I take a closer look, I see the resemblance. A younger brother maybe?
Saint deadpans him. “That happened.” He gestures with his head toward a howling Diak cradling his wrist as blood gushes from his nose. “But a lot bloodier. And a lot more dead.”
Adrian’s jaw clenches while the room falls silent.
“If anyone else has any other questions, now is the time to speak up.” No one dares to utter a word. “I didn’t think so.” Saint drags me toward the bathroom, leaving the men to clean up his mess. I want to shrug from his hold because he’s hurting me, but I know better.
He almost rips the door from its hinges as he opens it and shoves me inside. When the door slams shut, he finally releases me. If I wasn’t being held against my will and fearing for my life, I would admire how spacious it is in here.
Besides a large glass shower and a bathtub, black marble covers as far as the eye can see. Everything gleams within an inch of its life. No expense was spared as everything down here allows me to shower in comfort. Nothing but the best for Alek it seems.
Saint’s harsh breathing snaps me back to the now, and I turn around slowly. He’s propped against the wall, clutching his shoulder, his snarled hair hanging around his face. Now that we’re alone, the severity of where we are hits me, and it appears I’m not desensitized after all.
Tears well, but I bite my cheek to stop them from falling. Saint lifts his eyes to meet mine, but I can’t read what he’s thinking. The room turns explosive.
“You silly, stubborn girl,” he chides, shaking his head slowly. “You should have done what I said.” What he said was for me to run and hide—for me to be a coward—but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave him to deal with this on his own. I don’t know what that says for me and my sanity, but I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I did.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I say, brushing the matted hair from my cheeks, trying to be brave.
“Of course, it matters!” Before I have a chance to reply, he storms over, gripping the back of my neck and pressing us brow to brow. “I’m sorry if I was rough with you, but I had to be. I can’t show weakness when it comes to you because you’ll pay the price if I do.”
The feel of his hands on me is indescribable. “What are we going to do?” I whisper, rubbing my nose against his.
He inhales deeply, and this close to him, I can almost forget our troubles. When we’re this way, nothing else matters. “I don’t know yet. I have to talk to Popov and figure out his game plan. He knows something is going on between us.”
His admission has me drawing back to look him dead in the eye. “And what’s that?” I don’t even know what this is between us. I never have. Maybe he can explain it to me.
But when he shakes his head, it seems he’s just as confused as I am.
