Wow. She sounded kind of cool about the whole thing. Didn’t she realize that Marcus could violate me in any number of ways if she left us alone? “Okay, I’m going back to the room to get ready.”
She grabbed my hand as I got up. “Just clean up whatever mess you guys make, okay? And stay off my couch! And don’t forget about birth control, Autumn. You don’t want to have a permanent souvenir from this vacation.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Yeah, sure, Jessica. No problem.” I gathered my things and headed back to the room. I had enough time for a nap and a shower. The drops of warm water pelting my face felt like bullets trying to pound a message into me.
I must have been on the wrong frequency because I had no idea what that message was.
After my shower, I dug my phone out and scrolled through the contacts. To my surprise, “Dad’s cell” was listed.
I stared at the number for what seemed like days. Maybe even years. Then I pulled on my big girl panties, pressed “send,” and put the phone to my ear.
My hands shook as I waited for the call to connect, and my stomach quivered as I realized how mad Jessica would be when she got the cell phone bill.
But it went straight to voice mail. And I didn’t even get to hear his voice, because he had left the digital, premade message instead of recording one of his own.
I blew out a breath and tossed the phone in my purse. I fell asleep on the couch, thankful for my dreamless nap.
My eyes flew open about fifteen minutes later. Noticing the time, I flipped through my clothes to get ready for Marcus. I pulled on a flirty, knee-length skirt and pink tank top. At a quarter to eight, Marcus knocked on the door.
I opened it to see him standing with an unbuttoned beige cotton shirt, white Bermuda shorts, and flip-flops. “Hey there.” He kissed me on the way in, letting his lips linger on mine, then sat down on the bed.
I wasn’t so sure about him being on my bed. I hoped he wasn’t expecting a sex fest. He was hot, no doubt about it, but I didn’t know how far I wanted to take this little fantasy. A vacation fling? Sure. Post-fling consequences and guilt? Sexually transmitted diseases, rashes, babies?
Not so sure.
Pushing things with Trystan had landed my mom in the hospital, not to mention adding to my constant state of suffering. Who knew what would happen if I let things go that far now?
He smiled at me and patted the bed next to him. “Come sit.” His sexy smile weakened my resolve. After all, this was all make-believe, so maybe I could screw around just a little without regretting it.
Just a little. What could it hurt at this point?
I walked over and grinned. When I got to the bed, he grabbed the neck of my tank top and pulled me down on top of him.
“Marcus, take it easy.” I pushed against his chest and rolled next to him. He moved onto his side and faced me.
His wide, shining gray eyes pulled me into the fantasy. Against my better judgment, I threw my arms around his thick neck and pressed my lips against his.
He didn’t need any more incentive than that. He slid his leg between my knees, tangling our bodies together. His hips pushed against my pelvis.
“I’m glad you’re in a better mood than you were this morning, babe. You had me worried,” he whispered in my ear, then sucked on my earlobe.
I groaned, getting more into it than I’d planned. He rolled me over and slid on top of me, his weight pinning me against the bed.
And I liked it. I ran my fingers through his hair and yanked on a fistful, pulling his mouth closer to mine. His tongue explored my mouth with expert technique. He was the best kisser I’d ever been with.
His warm hand slid up my thigh and edged under my skirt. My hands left his hair and trailed down his back. He rocked his pelvis harder into me and inched his hand higher.
I hadn’t been this close to a guy since Trystan. Starved for attention, I grabbed his back with my nails, inviting him to get closer, closer.
His kisses intensified. My breathing increased. All thought ceased to exist as I allowed myself to just feel and not think. I thought too much as it was, letting my brain stop my body from living.
Marcus hooked his finger around my panties and tugged. Releasing my mouth, he nibbled on my earlobe and whispered into my ear. “Do you really need these now?”
I opened my eyes and saw the black lace of my thong peeking out of the drawer I’d put them in, across from the bed.
Damn. Nisha had made me bring them for just this reason, and here I was on the bed with Marcus.
Wearing my ripped Victoria’s Secret Pink boy shorts. Why hadn’t I thought of them when I’d gotten dressed?
I knew why. Because a sex-fest was not what I wanted. I put my hand on his chest and gave him a shove. This was heading in a direction I didn’t want to take.
Yet.
His hand slipped under my shirt, and with one flick of his wrist my boobs escaped from my unclasped bra.
I rolled away from him. “Marcus, please, take it easy.” I struggled to get up and hook my bra. I knew he got around, but his expert technique at getting to my goodies with the twist of his wrist only served as a reminder that being with him could equal a trip to the gynecologist.
And a few swabs and antibiotics.
He laughed at me and clutched my waist. “Come on, baby! You told me Jessica said she was leaving us alone for the night. We have until midnight to do all the crazy things we want!”
“Please stop. I’m not in the mood for this right now. I’m…really hungry. And still woozy from fainting earlier. Maybe we can get back to this later?”
He released me and lay back on the bed. I stood and straightened out my shirt. He folded his arms under his head and grinned at me. “Only if you promise me a rain check.”
God, he was so damn sexy. I needed to get my act together before I did something I regretted. I guess I missed having a guy around more than I thought I did.
“I thought we were getting together for dinner,” I stammered, trying to douse the flames. His and mine. “Let’s order something.”
He sat up. “Sure, we can order if you want. Go ahead and pick something and I’ll keep you busy while we wait.” He got up and started nibbling on my neck.
I ducked out from under him and rubbed my neck. “You know what? How about the buffet?”
He wrapped his arm around my waist and sighed. “Whatever you want, baby. Let’s go.”
I breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed my little leather purse. I didn’t want to stay in my room alone with him when he obviously had sex on his mind. And it wasn’t far from mine, either. But I wasn’t about to sleep with him now, not while everything was so crazy and I had no idea what was real. My body wanted to, but thankfully my brain was still intact and told my body to get a grip.
On second thought, thinking was a good idea.
We went to the buffet and filled our plates with turkey, mashed potatoes, bread, and cranberry sauce. Marcus found a quiet table in the corner of the room, hidden from view and dimly lit.
I took a bite of turkey. “Marc, I can’t remember who the father of Jessica’s baby is.” I circled my finger around my ear. “Too much sun.”
Marcus looked at me like I’d grown a third boob. His face clouded over. “Are you okay? I think you might need to see the doctor or something.” He reached across the table and put his hand on my forehead.
I picked up a dinner roll and pulled it apart. “Hmm. Maybe.” I knew I needed the doctor. But the doctor wouldn’t be able to answer my question now. “Just humor me, hon. Who’s Zoey’s father?”
His face contorted in confusion. “Andy died, remember?”
I continued to stare at him like his words didn’t translate into the English I had been taught. “Andy?” I never knew her to date a guy named Andy. “Andy died?” I banged on the side of my head a few times to indicate I needed to shake the memory loose.
Marcus scooted his chair closer to mine. “Jessica and Andy worked together at the hosp
ital. They got married, and soon after, she got pregnant.” Marcus took my hand in his, lightly rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “Andy had skin cancer and died three months after he found out. Melanoma or something like that. It was hiding under his hair, on his scalp. Remember, we all got checked after that?” He squeezed my hand. “You sure you’re okay?”
Wow. Dead of cancer in his twenties. He would miss out on so much—his baby growing up, traveling, growing old with Jessica. How sad. I fought back the moisture pooling in my eyes.
The iced tea I sipped slid down my chin. I grabbed a napkin. “How has Jessica been handling it?”
He shook his head and resumed eating. “You did have too much sun. Anyway, new subject. I hate this serious stuff. What do you want to do in Bermuda?”
I slopped a chunk of butter onto my roll. “I don’t know. Maybe jump off a cliff?”
He chuckled. I picked at my food and tried to figure out ways to get out of this Twilight Zone. I had no idea how it had started, so how could I end it? What if it lasted the whole trip? Or longer?
I glanced up at Marcus while I ate. Though he had a great body and obviously enjoyed making out, which he was great at, he didn’t have much of anything interesting to say. Football, soccer, baseball, and wrestling. Who cares? Not me. I’d had better conversations with Joey at the time clock.
That was saying a lot.
When Marcus finished his third plate of food, he sat back and sighed. “That was great.” He rubbed his swollen stomach.
“Yeah. The food on this ship is fantastic.”
He moved closer to me and ran his hand up my thigh. “You know what else is fantastic? Your body.”
I pulled away and glared at him. “Don’t say things like that, Marcus. We’re in the dining room.”
“So what? You love it, and you know it. And when we get back to the room, I’m going to do that thing with my tongue that drives you wild. How about that?” He waggled his eyebrows at me and reached his hand dangerously close to my panties. Again.
I pushed his hand away, stood up, and dumped my plate on him.
How about that?
Nine
Though the image of Marcus dripping with slick turkey gravy and cranberry sauce was funny on some level, I was pissed and confused. I must be in Hell. It was the only explanation. Maybe I could talk to the Bermuda Triangle people or organization or whatever and tell them that I figured the mystery out.
The Triangle led you to your own personal Hell.
It was time to see the doctor. I left the dining hall and ran to the information desk that I’d visited earlier.
“Can I help you?” a pretty, fair-skinned woman asked.
“Yes, please. Can you tell me how to get to the ship’s doctor? I need to be seen.”
She looked at her thin silver watch. “Is this an emergency? The doctor’s office is usually closed at this time.”
“Yes. It’s an emergency.”
She looked at her watch again, then dialed the phone. After a ten-second conversation with the mouthpiece, she hung up and nodded. “Okay, apparently they are open late today because of the waves. Lots of patients complaining of seasickness.” She pointed behind me. “Take those elevators to the bottom floor. Follow the hall around to the right. You’ll see a red cross over the door.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
I took the elevators to the bowels of the ship. It was much different from the fun and colorful atmosphere found on the upper decks. The hallway was painted hospital-white and lit by single bulbs spread out every few feet. The line of groaning people waiting to see the doctor wrapped around the corridor. And if the line hadn’t tipped me off, the smell of antiseptic and vomit would have. Most of the visitors clutched at their stomachs like they were going to puke. Or they already had. I kept my distance and waited my turn as I tried to figure out these crazy things going on in my life.
And why they were happening to me.
As I got closer to the entrance of the doctor’s office, I heard machines beeping. The beeps sounded like the noises I faced every time I visited Mom at the hospital—the times I actually went into her room. A wave of guilt almost knocked me over with its force. She sat in a coma at the hospital, and I was concerned about what Marcus might think of my panties.
I was such a bad daughter. If I could find a way out of this mess and back to her, I would try to make things right.
When my name was called, a fat nurse led me into a tiny square exam room. She motioned for me to sit on a miniature exam table. A small stool was tucked under the table. A sink that wouldn’t fit a grapefruit inside was tucked into a mini counter with tissues, cotton balls, and tongue depressors in glass jars. With the two of us in there, there wasn’t much room for anything else. I’d hoped the doctor didn’t come in while the nurse was still with me. Someone would end up on my shaking lap.
She took my blood pressure, temperature, and pulse, and then asked why I was there. The shaking increased as I wondered if I should tell her how I’d just lost my mind.
“It’s a personal matter,” I replied. The fewer people that thought I was crazy, the better.
She left quickly and shut the door behind her with a frown on her chubby face. Two minutes later, a young woman walked in holding a clipboard. “Hello. I’m Dr. Hardy. What can I help you with today?”
I looked her up and down. She looked kind of familiar with long, dark red hair, intelligent green eyes, and a sprinkling of freckles across her nose. Without any makeup, she was pretty in a studious way. She didn’t look old enough to be a doctor, but her lab coat said “Doctor” on it. A stethoscope hung around her slender neck like a medal, and pens poked out of her pocket.
I pursed my lips and reconsidered talking to this chick.
She sighed. “Honey, I’ve heard it all. Please, just tell me what’s bothering you. I want to help, but we have a lot of people waiting and you need to talk to me.”
The minute she spoke, I knew her voice. Then it hit me—she was the woman the day we departed, asking if I was okay.
I shrugged. “Okay, fine. But don’t laugh.”
“I won’t laugh.”
“Um…” I looked down at my hands. “I, uh, think I might be going crazy.”
She put the clipboard on the micro-counter and stepped closer to me. “I’m listening.”
I told her about my parents, Jessica, Joey, and Marcus. How everyone played a different role in my life on the ship than in my life at home. Dr. Hardy listened to me without prompting me to hurry, but most importantly without laughing.
She glanced at the door and suddenly looked like she didn’t want to be in the room with me. “Miss Taylor, I’m afraid I can’t help you yet.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yet? What does that mean?”
She laughed. “Sorry, dear, you misheard me. I said I can’t let you fret. You’ll be fine.”
I frowned. “No, you didn’t. I heard you. You said you can’t help me yet. I might be going nuts, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.”
She grabbed the clipboard and reached out for the doorknob. “I have a lot of patients waiting, so I’ll send the nurse back in to give you a shot for the seasickness. I hope you feel better.”
“Wait,” I called out, but she was already gone.
I hopped off the table. Screw this place. What kind of doctor was she? She didn’t even listen to my real problem. Seasick? Please. Obviously she couldn’t handle mental patients.
The nurse opened the door with a needle in hand. “I’m here for your—”
I put my hand up as I walked out. “Save it for someone who needs it.”
When I left the office, I decided the only thing that could erase this craziness was sleep. At least in dreams, I knew things were supposed to be messed up. Maybe when I woke up everything would be back to normal. I went back to our cabin and let the darkness overtake me as fast as it would.
Cold air biting at my ass cheeks woke me the next morning. During the night, I
had thrown the covers to the floor. The air conditioning vent now washed a cool breeze over me, and my panties and cami did nothing to stave off the wind. I grabbed the blanket off the floor and covered myself.
I peeked around the room for any evidence that I’d lost my mind the day before. Jessica slept on the couch on her back. Her right hand rested on a thin, flat stomach.
Thank God. The nightmare was over. My lips spread into an involuntary smirk. Ha! Autumn Rayne: 1, Psychotic Mental Breakdown: 0. A new day was starting, and it looked to be a good one.
I got up and stretched away the stress from yesterday. I looked down and noticed a blue piece of paper on the floor by the door. Ugh. It was probably from Marcus apologizing about last night. I walked over and picked it up. The neat handwriting looked familiar, but it wasn’t Marcus’s.
Joey. I thought he didn’t know me yesterday?
I opened the note and read the printed words.
Dear Autumn,
I m so glad we came on this trip together. Two wonderful years with you is more than anything I ever dreamt possible. Its been the ride of a lifetime. I hope we can look back on this cruise as the best vacation ever.
Love you more than life,
Joey.
The note slipped from my fingers and drifted down to the floor like a fluffy snowflake.
Oh damn. What about Marcus? And Joey not knowing me? Or our usual game of shadower and shadow-ee?
I walked over to Jessica and shook her bare shoulder. Her golden hair was a tangled mess in her face. Last night’s makeup left black tracks around her eyes, giving her the look of a raccoon.
“Jessica, you going to breakfast?” I whispered.
She didn’t open her eyes but shook her head no. “If you see Marcus, tell him I’m sleeping in.”
“Marcus? Why?”
She cracked a sleepy eye open. “So he can eat without me, silly. We all had a late night last night, but I’m sure he’s hungry. He eats like a moose.”
How did she know this about him? They only went on one date back home. Unless…
“Jessica, um, how do you know he eats like a moose? Have you seen him eat?”
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