by T L Swan
I should have let them kill her. It would have been way less dramatic.
I don’t have the time or energy for this shit.
“Please. No,” she cries.
Fucking hell. Annoyed, I hop up and pull on my shorts. I stand behind the door with my hands on my hips as I listen for a moment.
“Oh, I’m going to give it to you good.” Ian growls. “You’re going to pay for that bitch.”
That’s it. He’s not fucking getting her. I open the door in a rush and the boys look up from their spot on the floor where they are struggling to hold her down.
“Get off her,” I snap.
“M-mac,” Ian stammers as he looks up. “You don’t want her.”
I glare at him.
“We do,” Mike replies. “She’s good to go. You’ve already finished with her.”
I turn my attention to the annoying little fuck. “Give me a reason to kill you. Make my fucking day.” I growl.
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Let her go.”
They stand and let her up off the floor and she practically jumps onto me and throws her arms around my neck for protection. She’s wet and cold and shaking in fear. My hand instinctively snakes around her waist.
I glare at my crewmates. “Next person who touches this girl is going to fucking die. Do you all hear me?”
“Is that a threat?” Ian sneers.
I grab him by the throat and squeeze hard as I slam his head against the metal wall behind him. “That’s a fucking promise, cunt.”
The men all step back and glance at each other.
“Do not fucking piss me off!” I growl.
They take another step back and I open the door to throw her into my room just as Ian makes another desperate grab for her. I close the door behind her and then I turn and punch him hard and he doubles over in pain as he clutches his face.
I then turn to Mike. “Who’s next? You want to fucking go at me. Let’s go?”
The wimps all back down and begin to walk back up the hallway. Just as I thought they would… soft cocks.
I walk into my room, closing the door behind me before I turn to see her lying on the bed in the foetal position, crying.
I close my eyes in annoyance.
Fuck this shit.
* * *
Roshelle.
I pant and shake uncontrollably. I’m lying on the bed and the tears won’t stop.
I have never been so frightened in all of my life.
He walks back in and stands at the end of the bed for a moment as he watches me. Then he disappears into the bathroom and turns the shower on.
I shiver and shake, unable to control it. I’m so cold.
He reappears and watches me for a moment. “Get in the shower,” he demands.
I can’t get up, the shaking is so violent.
After watching me for a moment he picks me up and carries me into the bathroom and I cling to his neck for protection. The tears are running down my face.
“Stop shaking,” he snaps, annoyed.
“I can’t…I can’t help it,” I stammer. My teeth are chattering and the shudders through my body are violent.
“Christ,” he mutters to himself, and with an exhale of breath, he walks in under the water with me pressed against him. Both of my arms are around his neck and he is holding me like a bride.
He doesn’t speak, and for a long time we stay under the hot water as I cling to him. Eventually my shudders subside. I don’t know if it’s the shock or if I’m so physically exhausted from fighting, but I am struggling to stay awake. My eyes keep closing by themselves.
“Can you stand?” he asks as he puts me down.
I nod sadly as my feet touch the cold, hard tiles on the floor.
“Let’s get these wet clothes off you.”
My haunted eyes meet his. Is this it? Is this the part where I lose all dignity?
He bends and takes the t-shirt over my head and slides the shorts down my legs.
I stand before him totally naked.
“Are you hurt?” he asks as he inspects the cut on my head.
I don’t answer, I just hang my head and let the hot water run over me, hoping it will wash away this nightmare of events.
“Looks like it will be okay,” he replies as he inspects the wound from the pistol whip from the gun.
My arms hang by my side. I am absolutely defeated. I don’t have the strength to fight him. I know that.
He knows that.
He takes his t-shirt over his head and my eyes tear up.
Here we go.
He slowly slides his wet shorts down his legs and my eyes drop to his groin. He’s hard.
I close my eyes in pain.
He pulls me back to his large bare chest and we stand still under the water for an extended time. I can feel his huge erection pressed against my stomach.
Next thing I know, I am wrapped in a towel and being carried to the bed. He carefully dries me and pulls back the blankets and lies me down. I can feel his hungry eyes scan my flesh as I lie naked on my back in his bed. The same bed that, only hours ago, he’d tied me to.
I try to fight it, but my eyes keep closing by themselves.
“Go to sleep,” are the last words I hear.
* * *
I wake alone and sit up with a start. What? Was that a nightmare? Then I feel the pain shoot through my head and I look around to the cold metal can I am in and my heart drops.
It’s true. Oh God, it’s true.
“Hello?” I call. Is he here? Maybe he is in the bathroom? I stand groggily and shuffle to the bathroom. I’m so bloody sore. Every muscle in my body feels like it has been ripped from the bones. The bathroom is empty and I sit back onto the bed. What the hell am I going to do?
I frown as I try to remember how last night ended?
I don’t even remember falling asleep.
I’m naked and I run my fingers through my sex to see if I am wet. Have I had sex? Did he have sex with me while I was unconscious?
I get a visual of how hard he was in the shower and my stomach drops. Of course we had sex. Men like him take what they want, when they want it.
They called him Mac.
I make my way over to a porthole and I stand on the bed to peer through it. The view is about a meter above sea level and I can see the sea lapping closely as rain pelts down.
Fucking hell, this is a nightmare.
I slump back onto the bed and look around at my surroundings. I need a weapon… but am I really going to be able to kill ten men? Even if I do, who is going to steer the ship back to shore?
I blow out a defeated breath and stand, going back to the drawers to take out a large sweater and put it on. This ship is freezing.
The door opens and I step back. It’s him.
His eyes hold mine and he dips his head in acknowledgment.
I nod and drop my eyes.
He puts a plate of food onto the desk. “Eat,” he murmurs.
I drop to a seated position on the bed and he turns and puts his hands on his hips as he watches me. For the first time since my capture I take a good look at him. He is tall, maybe six-foot four, muscular with honey blonde hair that is about three inches long and has a curl on the ends. His skin is olive and his large eyes are brown. In any other circumstance, he would be handsome. Now I know that’s far from the truth. Looks can be deceiving. He’s a murdering criminal.
“Stay in the room,” he murmurs.
My eyes meet his.
“You are safe in here.”
I stare at him, I don’t even know how to reply to that statement.
“Keep the door locked…” He pauses for a moment. “Or they will come and get you.”
I don’t answer.
“Answer me,” he snaps angrily.
“Yes.” I nod.
He turns and with one last lingering look, he leaves and I hear the door click as he locks it behind him.
I sit in the semi-darkened room for a mo
ment as I try to process what he has just told me. Keep the door locked or they will come and get me. I am safe in this room, but I’m not safe enough. He told me I’m not woman enough for him. For the first time, my thoughts go to Todd and Melissa who are probably in the throws of passion right now. They wouldn’t even know I’m missing yet and probably think I have just taken off somewhere in anger. Sadness fills me as I realize that they probably wouldn’t even care if I did.
I curl up into a ball in his cold, hard bed of a prison and allow myself to weep.
I’ve never felt so alone.
I think I’ve finally hit rock bottom.
* * *
I am woken as I feel the bed dip. I pry open my sleepy eyes to see Mac sitting on the bed next to me. By the lighting I can tell it’s dark and he has been gone all day.
“You haven’t eaten.”
I look away from him and stare at the wall.
He stands and goes into the bathroom and showers. Still, I face the wall.
I have no words. Nothing to say to him, anyway.
He walks back into the room with a towel around his waist. “We get to Puerto Rico in twenty-eight days. You can get off there.”
I roll onto my back and turn to face him, frowning in question.
He drops the towel to dress and without thinking my eyes scan his body before I snap my gaze away.
“You are on your own when we get there, though. I want nothing to do with it,” he says.
I shake my head. Typical. What kind of man kidnaps a girl and then dumps her alone at a dock in Puerto Rico?
“I’m going to dinner,” he states as he pulls his pants up around his waist.
My eyes hold his as hatred drips through my every pore. Fuck you.
He gestures to the plate of cold food on the desk. “You know where yours is.”
I roll my eyes and turn my back to him and face the wall again.
I hear the door click as he leaves.
* * *
I feel more human, having eaten and showered. I’m lying with my back to the door when I hear him come in. The room is lit by the lamp on the desk and he’s been gone for a few hours.
I roll onto my back and look at him.
“You ate?” he asks.
I nod.
He undresses to his briefs and then goes into the bathroom. He washes his hands and then I hear him brush his teeth. He then comes and climbs into bed next to me.
We lay in silence for a long time.
Finally, he breaks it. “Why were you crying?”
I frown over at him in the darkness.
He lies on his side facing me and fiddles with the blanket. “When you came out of the nightclub onto the back dock… why were you crying?”
I hesitate before I answer. “I didn’t like the song they were playing,” I whisper into the darkness.
He doesn’t question my lie and I don’t elaborate.
3
Mac is reading on the bed while I sit at the desk. We haven’t spoken. I mean, what could we possibly have to say to each other? Unfortunately for me, there has been a weird development. An elephant has moved into the room. He’s big and pink and smells a lot like sexual chemistry. It’s not. I know it’s not. It couldn’t possibly be, but when he looks at me, for some reason, my stupid heart races.
Can he feel it?
Can he feel the way my body is reacting to his? It’s bloody uncomfortable, especially in this situation. I mean we are sleeping in the same bed. The worse thing of all is that I am finding myself wanting to make conversation. Even though I know it’s because there is nobody else and it is just human nature to want to communicate, it’s unsettling.
“I’m going to sleep,” he announces before standing. He slowly takes his t-shirt over his head. Instinctively, my eyes drop down his torso before I catch myself and look away. The heat of his gaze penetrates the air and I look up to find his dark eyes fixed on mine.
The electricity zaps between us and my heart starts to thump in my chest. He clenches his fists as they hang down by his sides as if trying to control himself. Air… there is no bloody air in here. For a long time, in the silence, our eyes stay firmly locked.
He’s just so…. masculine.
I can’t believe this.
What a nightmare. This whole situation disgusts me. I walk into the bathroom and get into the shower as I try to calm my anxiety.
I don’t need this shit.
* * *
I pace back and forth in the room that has been my prison for the last four days. He locks the door behind him in the morning and doesn’t come back until late at night, only returning to bring me food. My only solace is that he doesn’t touch me when he returns. It’s a toxic environment and I am quite sure if I stay here for another twenty-four days I will go insane. The more I think about it, and I have thought about it a lot, the more I know I need to try and call someone for help. I witnessed a murder and there is no way in hell they are going to let me walk away from all of this. I’m a witness who is still alive and that makes me a massive threat. Perhaps they are going to push me overboard after they have had their fun… nobody would ever know.
The perfect crime.
My mind goes to Melissa and Todd. I’m positive that they are aware I’m missing by now and it boils my blood to think that they know that I know what assholes they both are. I bet they think I’m lying in a hotel broken hearted somewhere on the verge of suicide.
Stupid fucks.
I’m furious, not heart broken. I couldn’t care less about the two of them.
I suppose that’s probably the only good thing that has come of all this. I’ve gained a new perspective on life.
People who fuck you over are just not worth it.
I’m done with being a doormat. I’m done with fake friendships and sleazy boyfriends whose brains are in their dicks. When I get off this ship, I am going to kick some serious ass, and Todd and Melissa are at the top of my fucking list.
First, I need to think of a way to get to the control tower. Leaving this room unnoticed isn’t going to be easy. I’ve debated every escape plan possible and all of them seem too risky. I’m not sure how much of a risk anything is, though, as I seem to have lost all perspective on this situation.
I hear the key turn in the lock, the door opens, and he appears. Having just finished working for the day, his hair is messed up and he has what looks like engine grease on his face.
I frown when I see him. He doesn’t normally look like this when he gets home from his day’s work.
“What do you do on this boat?” I ask.
His eyes flick to me in surprise that I am addressing him. “I’m a Nautical Engineer,” he replies.
My face falls in surprise. Well blow me down. I raise my eyebrows. “You?” I question.
He curls his lip. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I fold my arms in front of me and raise an eyebrow in question. “Nothing.”
His eyes hold mine.
“I just didn’t take you to have much of a brain, that’s all,” I murmur under my breath.
He shakes his head, unimpressed. “I was going to take you to the common room for dinner tonight.” He takes his shirt off over his head and my eyes drop to his large, broad chest. “But seeing that you are being a smart ass, you can stay here alone again.” He disappears into the bathroom and I hear the shower turn on.
He was going to take me out. My mind starts to tick. He was going to take me out. What if I went out with him and somehow slipped away for a minute to call for help? Would that work?
I glance into the bathroom. He’s naked. Nothing new, he has undressed in front of me all week. He begins to rub soap over himself and my eyes flicker up between his legs. Fuck, he’s huge. I’ve never seen a man like this and the more I think about it, the more I seriously doubt he raped me. I would be sore if he had and I’m not.
He looks up and I snap my eyes down to pretend I wasn’t looking and when I slowly glance up, he
smiles broadly.
“Like what you see?” he asks.
I look at him, deadpan. “No. Actually, I would like to gouge my eyes out.”
“Why are you looking then?” His soapy hand strokes his dick as he washes it.
“I wasn’t,” I murmur distracted by his hand jerking.
“My cock feels better than it looks.” He smirks as he washes himself.
I swallow the lump of nerves in my throat and my eyes drop to the floor to stop my wayward eyes from watching. I stare at the tiles on the floor for a while as I wait for him. “Where is dinner at?” I ask. I need to be nice and get him to take me out. He is the only person who can get me out of this room unnoticed.
“We have a large dorm and entertainment area at the other end of the boat.”
I frown as I think. “How many people work on this ship?” I ask.
“You’re very chatty tonight,” he replies dryly.
God, too much, too fast. I haven’t talked to him all week and now I’m sucking up. He’s right. I need to calm down and use my head. I stay silent for a while.
“Twenty–four,” he finally replies.
I think for a moment. I can’t actually remember how many men were involved with attacking me the other night and I feel my apprehension rise at just the memory of it. Maybe I should just stay here. I can’t stand the thought of facing them. I stand and then sit back down onto the bed. A few minutes later he walks into the room and drops the towel to dress. His wet curls hang down over his face and his tanned skin has a sheen on it from his shower. He smells like clean soap. Frigging hell.
“Do you have to be naked all the time?” I snap, agitated by his good looks. “I don’t want to see your junk.”
“I’m getting dressed, and for the record, you were just checking out my junk in the shower.”
I screw up my face in horror. “I was not.”
“You were too.”
I narrow my eyes. “Whatever.”
He smirks knowingly and takes out a pair of black tight underpants. I watch in slow motion as he bends and pulls them up his legs and readjusts his dick.
Hmm.