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These guys kill people who cross them. I can hardly expect them to be models of propriety, where they inform their guest of their comings and goings.
And yet.
If I dig deep and am really honest with myself—my feelings are hurt.
I am a pathetic idiot.
How in god’s name can I expect them to give a shit about me? And yet, I do.
While I’m dealing with my confusion, the guys refrain from answering any of my questions. Instead, they just point in the direction of one of the crew who joins us, setting a box on the floor in front of me. He disappears as quietly as he appeared.
“What the hell is this?” I snap.
They look at each other with a chorus ofdon’t know, open it, anddon’t you want to find out?
So I lift the lid off the box and step aside in case it’s something dangerous.
But it’s not.
Oh god no.
It’s a puppy. Like a baby dog type of puppy. It looks up at me from the blanket it’s curled up in, where it must have been napping until I rudely awakened it, and yawns with a creaky little whine.
Something in me breaks open, and I reach into the box to pull out the squirming, pudgy tank of a baby, desperately trying to hold back tears. The puppy, which turns out to be a girl, takes one look at my face, closes her eyes, and nestles into my chest to return to her nap.
And there we have it. I’m in love.
Which was probably the plan.
“So do you like her?” Fedor asks, his light blue eyes catching the sun.
I nod, mostly because I’m pretty sure my voice is about to crack, but I’m also buying time to think.
Why did the guys do this for me? Why a puppy?
Are they manipulating me into submission? Do they think having her around will make me less likely to try and leave?
Poor little baby is a prisoner just like me.
But she’s mine, in part because I don’t trust the guys to take care of her, which means that if I do get the chance to escape, I’ll have to take her with me. This complicates matters significantly.
So, I will bide my time. I will win over the guys, make them think I love life on the boat, that I never want to go anywhere else, and that I am a compliant little prisoner.
I know what I have to do.
At last, I have a plan. If the guys are going to manipulate me, I will manipulate them right back. They aren’t the only ones with tools at their disposal. I have my own, and I’m ready to use them.
Even if they are my body and soul.
* * *
8
BOGDAN
“What areyou going to call her?”
Abby doesn’t look at any of us, just keeps nuzzling the drowsy puppy.
