by Nicole Fox
“Fourteen? Damn.”
“Can you handle that?” I ask.
“We’ll have to,” he says before quickly adding, “It will be fine. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t know where our boats will find shore.”
“Based on the course of the ship, we can estimate. If we see you, we’ll flash our lights three times. Once fast and twice slow.”
Pasha really has thought of everything. I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am for his preparedness and his loyalty. After weeks of being on my own, it feels good to be part of a team again. “Thanks. We’ll see you soon.”
“That you will,” he assures me. “It will be good to have you back, boss.”
I smile and bid him a final farewell before hanging up.
The communications officer is still out cold on the floor, so I drag him under the desk and push the chair in, hiding him from view. If anyone comes into the room, they’ll see him immediately, but he’s hidden from passersby.
Just as I stand tall to leave, a loud siren blares over the intercom system.
It’s late for this kind of message, so my stomach drops the moment I hear it.
The game is up.
“Passengers,” Elena says, her voice clear and harsh over the intercom. “Our ship seems to have taken on a few unwanted pests before setting sail. Several key members of the crew are missing, as well as some important cargo. The culprit is believed to be Dmitry Tsezar, leader of the Tsezar Bratva. Dark hair, beard, blue eyes, and currently going by the name ‘Andrew.’ The person who brings him to me, dead or alive, will receive a reward. Happy hunting.”
Fuck. I briefly wonder if the chef clued them in to my secret identity aboard the ship, but then realize it doesn’t matter. Regardless of who figured it out, they are coming for me. I have to get out of here.
I pull the communications officer out from under the desk and strip off his top layer of clothing. His body is heavy and limp, which oddly works to my advantage. Gravity helps him slide out of the clothes as I pull them over his head. Then, I shrug out of my black server coat and pull on his tan button-down and white jacket. Lastly, I take his hat and pull it down as low over my hair as I can.
It doesn’t fully disguise me, but if anything, it will keep eyes from landing on me. Crew members lower on the totem pole won’t want to get in the way of an officer during a crisis.
I don’t have much time, though. As soon as they radio the comms officer and he doesn’t answer, they’ll send someone to check on him and figure out my disguise. I have to move fast.
I run from the comms room and take the metal stairs down from the bridge to the main deck. Crew members are gathered in small huddles, discussing the ongoing search.
Most of them seem to be smiling, acting somewhat jovial about the whole thing. Clearly, they have no idea how serious Devon and Elena are. This is no normal stowaway situation.
It works to my advantage, though, because I’m able to walk directly past their group to the side deck, making my way back to where I’m supposed to meet Courtney and Sevastian with the girls.
If I can get to them without being stopped, we might be able to get in the boat and into the water before anyone realizes who I am. They’ll be so busy searching the ship, they won’t even realize we’ve left.
As soon as I turn the corner, though, and make it several doors down the length of the hallway, I see Devon and Elena rounding the corner on the opposite end. They are walking with a purpose, noses to the ground like hunting dogs. Unfortunately, they are also cutting me off from reaching Courtney and Sevastian.
“Officer,” Devon calls, waving a meaty hand in the air for my attention.
As casually as I can, I turn and head back to the main deck, pretending I didn’t hear him.
“Officer,” Devon repeats. “Stop. We need to speak with you.”
I adjust my hat and increase my speed. As soon as I’m back on the main deck and out of their sight, I take off into a sprint, running to the opposite side of the ship.
I’ve just ducked into the side deck, back pressed to the wall to stay out of view of the main deck, when Elena and Devon emerge.
All of the crew members nearby stand to attention at Elena’s approach.
“Where did that officer go?” she asks the men.
They all look at one another, unsure. They weren’t paying any attention.
She growls at them in frustration. “An officer just passed through here and none of you witnessed him? Clearly, you are not on high alert as I ordered.”
“Apologies, ma’am,” one of the men says, tipping his head in respect. “We were discussing how to split up the ship to search. We did see a captain move through just a moment ago. He came from the comms room, but I didn’t see him come back through.”
Elena looks up at the bridge and frowns, turning to Devon. “Who is in the bridge now?”
“Officer Ledletter,” he says.
“Call him.”
Devon pulls out his walkie and calls for the officer to answer, but of course he does not. “Do you think it could be him?”
Elena nods. “It could be. Do we have any word from the Tiger yet?”
Devon shakes his head, and Elena curses, “Damn it. We need to get another guard to the nursery, now.”
“What about the women?” Devon asks. “They need protection, too.”
Elena rolls her eyes. “The women are not our priority. The baby is.”
“Your priority,” Devon argues. “The women are mine.”
Elena spins around to face her son, and I pull back closer to the wall, afraid she’ll see me watching from around the corner. “I couldn’t care less who you want to fuck. If Courtney is still on the ship after we find Dmitry, you can do whatever you want with her. Right now, the priority is Olivia and killing Dmitry. That’s it.”
Devon lowers his head and twitches like a druggie strung out, looking for his next fix. He curls his fingers into a fist at his side before barking for a guard to go up to the bridge and see where the comms officer is.
I don’t stick around to see what he discovers because I already know. My disguise is about to put a huge fucking target on my back. As soon as they discover the officer half naked on the floor with my server’s uniform next to him, they’ll know I’m disguised as an officer. Another announcement will be made and the figurative noose around my neck will tighten further.
I run down the side deck towards the stern and throw the hat over the railing and into the water as I go. I don’t need it anymore.
“Hey, stop!”
I don’t need to turn around to see it’s Devon talking. He must’ve doubled back.
“There he is,” he yells. “Get him!”
I lower my head and pump my arms, running as fast as I can. I duck down a small interior hallway and then turn right again, moving towards the front of the ship. The hallway opens onto a small, open-air deck with a roof overhead to keep out the sun during the day. Directly in the center of the space stand four guards.
They are all huddled together, clearly planning something, and they turn as I enter.
One of the men, a guard I recognize as working in the dining room guarding Devon earlier that morning, narrows his eyes to study me. I take a deep breath to try and disguise my rapid breathing and nod my head as I pass through.
I feel their eyes on me as I turn to the left and walk out of the side door and onto the side deck I was going down earlier when I was first stopped by Devin and Elena. If I can keep going, I’ll eventually run into where Sevastian and Courtney are hopefully hiding with the girls.
Then, I hear Devon yelling behind me. His voice is distant but clearly frantic.
“Stop him!”
I look back through one of the windows into the room as I walk by and see the guards looking back and forth between Devon’s voice and me. One of them lifts a finger to point in my direction, and I don’t wait for them to clue in. Once again, I take off at a sprint.
I want to keep going to where I know my family is waiting for me, but if I do, I’ll lead the guards right to them and there won’t be time to launch the lifeboat. I have to shake my pursuers before I can meet up with them.
So, I take a hard right and move up an exterior set of stairs to a higher deck. Then, I duck into the first door I find.
The room is thankfully empty. It’s a lobby area just outside the formal dining room. I didn’t see it this morning because I was taken up the servants’ stairs.
The wooden double doors are cracked open an inch, and I step forward and peek through them. The room is dark, so I push the door open and step inside. There is a row of wooden shelves along one wall that could work if I want to hide. I could lay low and wait for my pursuers to move on before sneaking out and going to the meetup point.
Hiding would be nice considering the slice to my ribs is starting to ache from all of the running and exertion. I haven’t checked, but I can feel warmth across my side that makes me think I might be bleeding again.
Just as I’m moving towards the shelves, I’m knocked forward by a blow to my back. I hit the floor and roll over just as a guard I hadn’t noticed before kicks me in the side—the same side where I was stabbed earlier.
I groan in pain and roll to my left, jumping to my feet.
The guard is a young kid—no older than twenty. Probably not even legally able to drink the liquor on board. But his face is an angry mask.
“You aren’t supposed to be here,” he growls.
I hold up my hands. “Let me go, and I won’t be for much longer. I’m trying to get off.”
“I’ll get a reward if I turn you over,” he mutters. “I could use a reward.”
“If you come for me right now, you won’t get your reward,” I say evenly. “You’ll be dead.”
I know Courtney wanted to try not to hurt anyone else, but I can’t keep knocking people out. I can’t leave a trail of witnesses behind me. If this kid comes for me, I’m going to kill him.
He smirks. “I’d like to see you try.”
Before I can respond, he pulls out a gun and levels it at my chest. I duck and roll just as the first shot explodes into the wood behind me.
I hit his knees, overextending them both, and wrap my arms around his waist, pushing him backwards.
He yelps in surprise, but he doesn’t have time to do anything before he hits the floor.
We both scramble for the gun, but he hasn’t been properly trained. He doesn’t understand how to handle a weapon, how to have control over it, or how to fight.
I pluck the gun from his hand as easily as if he’d handed it to me, and then turn it on him.
The kid falls back on the floor, his head hitting the tile, and he holds up his hands, eyes squinting in anticipation.
I need to kill this kid. I absolutely should.
Yet, once again, I hear Courtney’s voice in my head.
No. There has to be another way.
I groan in annoyance, spin the gun around, and whip him with the back end. His eyes roll back in his head immediately, and I quickly drag him over to the wooden cabinets, shove him inside, and then wrap my leather belt around the handles to keep him inside. Someone will find him eventually, just hopefully not before my family and I are on our way to the Spanish shoreline.
If we can’t get off this ship, I know I’ll die, I know Olivia will be raised by a psychopath, and I know Courtney will become Devon’s sex slave, at best. At worst, she’ll be sold into slavery.
But no one has said anything about Tati.
She’s too old for Elena to lie to. She’s a risk.
What will happen to her if we’re all captured?
I don’t allow myself to think about it. Instead, I press a hand to my injured side and move on through the dining room. If I can get down the servants’ stairwell and back to the side deck without running into another guard, I should be able to meet up with everyone before I lose too much blood.
If I don’t, then it’s likely I’ll bleed out, even if Elena doesn’t have me killed.
Still, there is hope. I just have to keep moving.
Our plan hasn’t been foiled yet.
17
Courtney
Sevastian is busy throwing extra supplies into the lifeboat and outfitting the girls in life jackets, but I can’t seem to do anything. Once Elena’s announcement came over the intercom system, my world stopped.
Is Dmitry alive?
I swat the thought away for the hundredth time and try to convince myself he’s fine. Dmitry is resourceful. He’s a fighter. He has fought his way out of stickier situations than this one. Any minute, he’ll come running down the side deck to where we’re waiting for him.
I stand next to the boat and wait for his figure to appear.
“Grab more blankets.”
I turn and see Sevastian nodding towards a storage cupboard in the closet across the hall. “We want to keep the girls as dry and warm as possible once we’re on the water.”
I nod and stumble the ten steps to the shelf.
If Dmitry is dead, I have to be able to leave the ship without him. If he doesn’t show up, I have to be able to say goodbye. Tati and Olivia are depending on me. I know that.
Still, the idea of climbing into the boat without him makes me sick.
I grab five thin, scratchy blankets and tuck them into a storage hold beneath one of the bench seats in the boat. Then, I bend down and check on where the girls are hiding beneath the boat. Olivia is asleep in Sadie’s arms and Tati and Larissa are tucked in on either side of her. They are wide-eyed and terrified, but safe.
A few times, guards have run past, and I’ve had to hide while Sevastian busied himself. Word of his betrayal hasn’t yet reached Devon and Elena, so he doesn’t have to hide like the rest of us.
“Maybe you should go search for Dmitry,” I suggest. “You could find him and then bring him here instead of to Devon and Elena. No one would suspect anything until it was too late.”
He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “He would never forgive me if I left you all alone.”
“He would too,” I argue.
“I promised him I’d stay with you all and keep you safe, so that’s what I will do. Dmitry can take care of himself.”
I stand up tall, puffing my chest out. It feels silly to be declaring my dominance while wearing a dirty pajama outfit, but desperate times. “I am the wife of the Bratva leader. Doesn’t my authority count for something?”
Sevastian’s mouth quirks up in a half smile. “As I am no longer a member, my loyalty is to Dmitry, not the Bratva. Sorry, but I do not recognize your authority.”
I slouch forward and sigh. “Dammit.”
Sevastian lifts the boat slightly, engaging the lowering mechanism, and then turns to me, his eyes narrowed and sincere. “Dmitry will be fine. I have a feeling about these kinds of things, and I’m confident he’ll meet us here.”
I want to take comfort in Sevastian’s words, but I’ve only known him a few weeks and most of that time was thinking of him as my captor. I’m sure no one would blame me for not having full trust in him.
Just as I’m about to admit as much to him, Sevastian’s attention jerks up, his gaze cast over my shoulder. Then, he smiles. “What did I tell you?”
I spin around and see the sight I’ve been imagining for the last half hour. Dmitry is walking towards us. Towards the boat we’ve prepared. Toward escape.
I run forward to meet him, ecstatic that our plan is falling into place, when I suddenly notice he isn’t walking so much as limping. And that isn’t a smile on his face; it’s a wince.
His arm is pressed to his ribs, his hand on top for added pressure, and there is blood soaking through his fingers.
Dmitry is injured. Gravely.
I wrap my arms around him just as he takes a stumbling step and nearly falls.
“What happened?”
He opens his mouth to answer and gasps in pain, doubling over to
shield his side.
“Come on,” I urge, trying to swallow back the panic threatening to creep up my throat. “There’s a first aid kit. I can help.”
Tati starts to crawl out from under the boat, but I shake my head and gesture for her to stay hidden, and she listens, though there is concern written all over her face.
“What in the hell happened to you?” Sevastian asks, spreading out one of the blankets on the deck for Dmitry to lie on.
“Get me a first aid kid,” I instruct, not wanting to waste a single second. I lift Dmitry’s shirt and see that the slice to his side is much worse than it was before. It seems to have opened further and the skin around it is red and shiny with bacteria.
“Not good,” Sevastian whispers over my shoulder.
I turn around to shoot him a glare and then pat Dmitry’s chest gently. “Nothing I can’t handle. I am a doctor, remember?”
Dmitry smiles like he’s going to tease me about being a brain doctor, not a body doctor, like he usually does, but he winces again and closes his eyes. “It’s just a cut.”
“An infected cut,” I tell him. “And you need stitches.”
The cut is so much deeper than it looked earlier in the dim light. Now, directly under one of the deck lights, I can see exactly how bad it is. He shouldn’t have been walking around, let alone fighting anyone. It is a miracle he didn’t collapse before making it back to the boat.
I press a balled-up blanket to his side to stanch the bleeding and dig through the first aid kit for antiseptic. I twist off the cap and upend the bottle over the cut. Dmitry lets out a string of curses, but I don’t stop until the bottle is empty. He needs all of the help he can get.
Then, I find a box of emergency laceration closures. I pull out the largest one I can find, affix one side of the sticky tape to his skin, and then stretch the bandage over the cut to the other side. The wound pulls closed slightly, and Dmitry grits his teeth. I repeat the procedure several more times until the cut is a narrow strip of red across his side rather than an angry open wound.
“Will those be enough?” Sevastian asks.
“For now.” I hope.