by Ella Miles
I feel a tear fall down my face. I know that Nacio isn’t speaking the truth. I know that Killian didn’t kill my father. But I still don’t understand who did, and I might never know. Even though I hate him, I still care for him deep down, which kills me. It kills me that I’m crying for my father when he was a monster. Maybe, now that I am one, too, I feel more for him than I should. I feel connected to him.
I glance to Nacio, who wipes the tear from my cheek. There’s a softness, a kindness, in Nacio, just like my father. I didn’t have the opportunity to turn my father, but I can bring Nacio to my side. I just don’t have any idea how to do that, other than to flirt and let him flirt back.
“I miss him,” I say.
“Me, too.”
Nacio tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I grab his hand, keeping it pressed against my cheek. I close my eyes, trying to imagine his hand is Killian’s, but that won’t work. Nacio is nothing like Killian. Nacio is selfish, ruthless, and intimidating. Killian is loving, selfless, and intense. Their strength and ability to lie to me might be the only similarities between the two men.
I open my eyes, no longer able to fantasize that Nacio is Killian. I place my hand on the nape of Nacio’s neck and pull him to me until his lips are pressed against mine. He aggressively kisses me. His tongue thrusts in and out of my mouth, making it hard for me to breathe. I continue to hold on to his neck, trying to hold on to dear life, as he grabs my other hand and pulls it hard to his chest. Harder than what I’m comfortable with. A painful moan escapes my lips when he pulls my hair with his other hand. I try to make it sound sexy, but there is no mistaking my moan for anything other than pain.
I pull at his hair and hear his painful growl in return. Fuck, I don’t know how to stop this. He must hear my thoughts though because he aggressively releases me. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. We both breathe hard and fast, trying to catch our breaths after a kiss like that.
He has a wicked, dirty grin plastered on his face as he looks at me, and I’m afraid I’ve ignited his lust for me. I’m afraid he is going to want to fuck me right this second, but I can’t let him.
“You and I would make quite a pair. I don’t trust you yet, not fully. But I will soon, and then we can take over everything together.”
“How?” I ask when my breathing has returned.
“We will kill them. All of them.”
My mouth drops a little at his suggestion, but maybe I misunderstood him.
“What do you mean, kill all of them? Who exactly?”
“Your grandfather, your mother, my brother, and my father. We kill them all, and then we will be free. We kill all of them, and then we can do what we want with the organization.”
His face brightens. This isn’t the first time he has thought about this. I can tell from his excitement. This is what he really wants. I just don’t understand why.
I sip on the bitter wine, trying to mask my disgust at what he is suggesting. I set the glass back down. “You could really do that? You could kill your father? Your brother?”
“Yes,” he answers automatically.
I know he is telling me the truth. He’s not lying.
“Could you? Could you kill your grandfather and mother?”
I don’t have to think about it. I already know my answer. “Yes.”
I’ve been in this dark room for hours. My stomach growls, letting me know how hungry I am, as if the ache isn’t enough to let me know. My body is sore from being tied up, from lack of sleep, and from not eating in days. If they don’t plan on putting a bullet in my head soon, I will easily die from lack of food and water.
At least, this time, I can move around. My arms are still tied behind my back, but they didn’t tie me to anything. So, I could move around if only I found the strength to move from my position on the floor.
I glance around the small room that I’m sure used to be a closet. The door looks weak, compared to the door that was keeping me in when we were in Mexico. I could try to kick it in. But then what? I would have to run, but I’m not sure I have the strength to do that, not without getting caught. If they caught me, there would be a good chance they would shoot me on the spot.
I try to sit up, but just lifting my head is painful and exhausting. So, I don’t bother again. I just need to rest. Once I rest, I will have enough strength to form a good plan.
I close my eyes and think of Kinsley. I try to let her stay in my thoughts. But the darkness soon overtakes me.
“We can kill him soon,” Seth says.
I open my eyes, expecting to see Seth standing in front of me, but he’s not. The darkness is still covering me. He must be just outside my door though. That confirms that, even if I kicked the door down, I wouldn’t be able to escape with Seth just outside the door.
“Good. I don’t like keeping him alive,” Lee says.
“The FBI has found our location in Mexico. It’s all over the news. They seem to think they have found everyone who was behind your deaths,” Seth says.
“Good. We just need to verify that before we kill him. I expect he will be dead by tomorrow,” Lee says.
“What about Kinsley, Nacio, and Santino? They could ruin everything. What are we going to do about them?” Seth says.
“Santino isn’t a threat. He will do whatever we say. And, as for Kinsley and Nacio…” Lee says.
My eyes grow heavier as they speak until I’m barely able to keep my eyes open. Until I can barely hear the words they are saying.
“We can handle them, just like…”
I’m sitting in Granddad’s office with Mother, Nacio, and Santino. They are discussing what prices they are getting for the five children we just got in and where they will be going. The prices are insane, all in the millions, and they are throwing the numbers around like it is nothing.
What’s worse is the way they talk about the children. As if they aren’t children. Just objects to be bought, sold, and rented.
“So, it’s agreed. Nacio and Santino will take the shipment to London,” Granddad says.
“What about Killian?” Santino asks.
“We will take him with us. We can kill him and throw him over the yacht. He won’t ever be found,” Nacio says.
Everyone nods in agreement.
“Kinsley can come with us and do the honors,” Nacio says.
“I’d love to,” I say.
Nacio winks at me. After our last conversation, he thinks I’m on his side. He thinks I will do whatever he says, and I will. I will because getting close to Nacio might be my only chance at keeping Killian alive.
I watch as the five kids—two boys and three girls—are escorted from the bus to the private yacht. I watch them walk what could be their last walk where they are completely unharmed. They haven’t been raped or tortured or murdered. This could be the last time they experience even a shred of happiness even if it is only from the warm sun beating down on us.
I watch the three men escorting them. They are so unfazed by what they are doing. Santino is escorting the first two, followed by two men I don’t recognize. All of them seem calm and relaxed, like they are just going for an afternoon walk, not walking children to their deaths. I don’t know what to do, but I know I can’t let it happen. I can’t.
Next off the bus are Killian and Nacio. Killian doesn’t try to hide his stares this time. This time, he locks his gaze on me as he walks past where I’m standing on the base of the ramp of the yacht. I glance to Nacio, who is also staring at me. Both men are showing me how much they want me. Both men are devouring me with their eyes, and I can’t give either of them the reaction they want.
I wait for them to walk past me, and then I follow them onto the large yacht that could easily fit twenty-plus people. I watch as the men take the children down the stairs inside the yacht. Nacio follows with Killian while I stay on the deck of the yacht. I can’t stand to go downstairs with them. I wouldn’t be able to keep my composure. I couldn’t keep from trying to kill all of t
he men who are walking so calmly down the stairs.
I walk over to the edge and look out at the water that is so calm and beautiful. The sun is setting over the water. It’s beautiful here. Riding on a yacht like this in such a luxurious setting should be beautiful, but all I can think about is that this might be the last beautiful thing I see as well because we might all be dead as well by morning.
“It’s beautiful, just like you,” Nacio says from behind me.
He wraps his arms around me, like a lover would do, except he is a monster and I’m far from a lover. Still, we stay like this for a while as the yacht begins moving away from the dock. I feel weirdly calm with his arms wrapped around me. Nacio has a weird way of making me feel like he’s a good person who cares about me one second, and then the next second, he’s the devil who wants to destroy people’s lives. I can’t understand him.
“We are going to play cards. You want to play?” one of the men asks from behind us.
Nacio looks to me.
“Sure,” I say.
I follow the man down the stairs. A large kitchen, complete with marble countertops, sits at the bottom of the stairs with three tables. Past that seems to be a lounge area. A man is sitting at the first table with a deck of cards, tequila, and chips and salsa spread out on the table. I smile at the man, but he doesn’t smile back at me as I sit down next to him at the table.
Nacio sits next to me, followed by the man who invited us down to play.
“Where’s Santino?” I ask.
“Driving the boat,” Nacio answers.
“And who is watching…” I can’t finish the sentence. I can’t say kids or prisoners or shipment, as they often call them. I can’t say any of those words.
“No one. There is no need. We are in the middle of the ocean, and they are locked up. We don’t have to worry about them until morning,” Nacio says.
I nod.
“I’m Kinsley,” I say to the two men whom I haven’t met before. “What are we playing?”
“I’m Don,” the younger man across from me says. He looks to be close to my age, and he has blond hair and green eyes. He doesn’t have the monster look yet.
I glance to the other man who looks slightly older, probably because of his eyes. His glare makes him look more menacing than Don. His hair is darker, and his stubble is thicker than Don’s.
“Maurice,” he says somberly.
“Poker. That’s all the men know how to play. You know how to play poker?” Nacio asks.
“Yes. I know the basics. What do are we playing for?”
“We usually play for duties, but since you both are the bosses, I don’t think that is the best idea,” Don says.
We all nod.
“Strip poker?” Nacio suggests.
I roll my eyes. That isn’t going to happen.
I glance around the room, trying to come up with something we could play for, but all I see are the tequila and tortilla chips. Tequila—that’s my only hope. If I can win enough games and get them drunk enough, I might have hope at getting the kids safely off the boat. I might have a chance at saving Killian.
“How about shots? Everyone that loses each round has to take a tequila shot. And when you lose all of your poker chips, you have to take three.”
The men shrug. I stand and pull four shot glasses out of the cabinet while the men pass out poker chips from a case beneath the table.
I watch as Maurice begins dealing out cards. I get a two and a seven. The men begin betting, only speaking to place their bets. I call and then watch the flop. None of the cards on the table go with the cards in my hand.
I am forced to fold, which causes me to have to take a shot. Don pours me a shot of tequila, and I down the glass. It burns down my throat. Nacio wins the hand and forces Don and Maurice to take a shot as well.
This isn’t going to work unless I win a majority of the games. I need them to pass out from the drinks, but if I pass out first, I won’t be able to save anyone.
Don deals the next round.
I lose. I drink.
After the third hand, I’ve had three shots while everyone else has split shots evenly among themselves.
I deal the fourth hand and finally win. I relax a little. But poker is a game of chance, especially with how the game is set up. The only way to keep from drinking is to win every hand, which is hard to do.
So, on my next deal, I make sure to make my own luck. I hide a pair of kings that I’ll use the next time I think I will lose a hand. It causes me to win three in a row, so all of the men have to drink. My head is spinning from the three shots I have had while most of the men at the table have had close to eight. Their heads must be pounding.
“I should go check on Santino,” Nacio says after another loss.
I glance at his pile of chips. “Not until I’ve won.”
He smiles. “Or I could just give you all of my chips now.”
“No. I want to win fair and square.”
“You’ve been cheating,” Maurice says next to me.
I freeze. “Have not.”
He smiles for the first time all night. “Relax. There is no way a pretty girl like you could cheat.”
He slurs his words, and I know he’s getting close to blacking out from the alcohol. So, instead of playing another hand, I grab the bottle of tequila that is almost empty, and I pour everyone a shot.
I lift my shot glass. “To Nacio, for the kick-ass yacht.”
Nacio tries to smile at me but only one side of his lips curls up. “To you.”
We clink glasses together, sloppily spilling half of our shots, before knocking them back.
I stand from the table and stumble as I get up. I’ve had more to drink than I planned on.
“You okay?” Nacio asks.
I nod and then sloppily kiss Nacio on the cheek. “Bathroom. Be right back to finish kicking your asses.”
I stumble through the kitchen to the bathroom just before the base of the stairs. I take my time in the bathroom, hoping to God that my plan works. I can’t shoot Killian, and I won’t ever be able to live with myself if I let those kids go. I wait almost twenty minutes and then decide I’ve waited long enough.
I slowly emerge from the bathroom and tiptoe to where the men are sitting. Maurice is snoring loudly. Don has moved from the table to the couch. His eyes are closed, and he seems to be asleep. Nacio has his head resting on the table, his breathing slow and easy.
I sigh and tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. They are asleep. I just don’t know for how long or how deep of a sleep they are in. I slowly back out of the kitchen until I find the stairs at the back of the yacht. I pause at the stairs and glance back to where the men are sitting to see if any of them have moved. They haven’t, so I take my chance.
I move as quietly but as quickly as I can down the stairs, knowing that my time is limited, but I have to take this chance. It might be the only chance I will ever get. By the time I make it down the stairs, my head spins from the tequila, so much so that I can barely walk in a straight line. But I keep moving forward, regardless that it isn’t in a straight line.
I get to the first door. I turn the knob and push it open. I find an empty bedroom. No Killian. No kids.
I leave the door open and move to the second door, hoping I find them soon. Every second that I don’t is another chance I take that one of the men could wake up. The second room is empty, too.
I glance down the hallway and count ten other doors. I don’t have time for this.
“Killian,” I whisper as I now run down the hallway, pushing every door open but not finding him.
I get to the last two doors. I try to push the second to last door open, but it doesn’t open. The knob doesn’t turn.
“Killian,” I whisper again.
I wait a second.
“Kinsley?” Killian whispers back.
I sigh in relief from just knowing that I’ve found him.
“I need to get you out, but the door is locked. C
an you unlock it from the inside?”
A second passes and then another as I wait for Killian to answer me.
“No. I can’t open it. What are you doing here?”
“Getting you out. I don’t have time to explain. We don’t have much time, and we have to be quiet.”
“You’re going to have to find a way to unlock it from out there. I’m tied up, and even if I weren’t, the door can’t be unlocked from the inside.”
“Do you know who would have the key?” I ask.
“No.”
I think for a moment, trying to decide on what to do. I could try to search the men for the key, but that would be risky, as they could wake up. I could pick the lock, but I have no idea how to do that or even if I could find the tools. I could kick down the door, but it would be loud, and I would risk waking them up, or Santino could hear us from where he is driving the yacht.
“Can we pick the lock?” I ask.
“Have you ever done that before?”
“No.”
“Okay. I can try to walk you through it. Do you have a hairpin?”
“No,” I sigh. I think back to all the bedrooms. If a woman or girl stayed in any of them, there is a good chance that one fell on the floor. “Hold on though.” I run through bedroom after bedroom, searching the bathrooms and floors to find a hairpin. I get lucky in the third room, finding a hairpin lying in the corner of the bathroom floor.
I run back to the room where Killian is locked inside. “I have a hairpin.”
“Good. You need to break it in half.”
I easily break it. “Okay, it’s broken.”
“One half, you need to bend, so it is curved like a hook,” he says, his voice so calm.
My hands are shaking viciously. “Done.”
“The other half, you need to bend the end just a little.”
I bend it, but I must bend it too far because it breaks.
“It broke,” I say in a panicked voice.
If I can’t get him out, he’s going to die.
“It’s okay. Just try again.” His voice stays calm.