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 n@ked and I run my fingers through mine to see if I am wet. Have I h@d se*x*? Did he have s*e*x 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 h@d 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 moment 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.