The guns were the main thing I needed to get… now for the cherry on top.
I walk back up onto the deck and glance around, seeing it is still deserted. I take out the other key and walk along the back row of the containers. This one is easier to go undetected, being right up in the back row. I open the lock and go through the same procedure and pull the door closed behind me.
I blow out a breath as I turn my flashlight on. Fuck, it’s hot. I’m sweating like a pig.
Okay, what am I looking for?
Statues.
It said statue.
There are boxes in this container, probably about twenty in total. I open the top one and find the box has been partitioned into twelve squares with cardboard. In each little square is a small pottery cat statue standing about fifteen centimeters tall. I go through the box and take them out one by one and shake them. Nothing. They all seem empty.
If I was going to hide something in a statue, where would I put it?
I think for a moment. The bottom box. I quickly begin to move the boxes to the side one by one until I get to the very bottom box. I rip it open and take out the cat statues one by one and shake them.
Nothing.
Fuck.
I open the next box and the next box. Maybe there isn’t anything here? I scratch my head in frustration as the perspiration drips from my forehead.
Oh shit, maybe I misread the picture. Did I get the container right? I open another box and the first statue I pick up and shake clangs as something hits the inside edges.
My eyes widen and I shake it again.
Clink, clink, clink.
Yes, this is it. I quickly check the others in the box. Nothing. This must be it.
I quickly put the boxes back as they were and go to the door again. I slowly open the door and peer out. The coast is clear. I wrap my small figurine in my towel and exit and quickly relock the container.
My heart is beating so fast and I can’t believe I am actually fucking doing this.
Who am I?
I hot foot it back to the room and get in and shut the door behind me and lean up against it in relief as I pant.
I stink. I’m wet with perspiration. I grab my cat statue and walk into the bathroom and close the door, locking it behind me. I turn on the shower and look around. I need to break the statue open. I will do it later.
When?
When am I going to get the chance when I know Stace is occupied?
Just do it now. I open the bathroom door and peer out to make sure he hasn’t come home and I close it again, lift the statue above my head and throw it on the floor. It bounces.
Shit.
I lift it again and throw it and it bounces again.
Fuck it.
I lift it again and really throw it down hard and it smashes across the floor.
I stare at the broken pottery for a moment in shock.
My eyes widen. Holy shit… I was right.
Diamonds.
Diamonds that are bigger than my thumbnail. Light golden and misty pink. Some are brilliant white. Oh my God, these must be worth a bomb.
I can hardly breathe.
I walk into the bedroom and grab a sock from Staces underwear drawer and then back into the bathroom and relock the door. I sit on the floor and sift through the broken pottery and pick up the diamonds, putting them into the sock one at a time.
Forty-two diamonds in total.
Whose are these?
I carefully tie the sock off at the end and pick up the broken pottery and put it into a plastic bag. I’m going to have to throw this overboard as soon as I get a chance.
I get into the shower and let the cool water run over me as it sinks in.
Holy shit.
I did it.
* * *
Sometimes life surprises me, but not nearly as much as I surprise myself.
How stupid can a girl get?
Why on Earth did I honestly think that there was something between this criminal and me?
I eat the last of my potatoes and veg as I watch him with her. We are at dinner, it’s 8pm, and Stace arrived late after working all day. I would have assumed that he would have gotten his dinner and then taken a seat next to me as he has done every other time.
Guess not.
Tonight he got his dinner and then went and sat next to Chelsea, while I sit alone. He hasn’t even acknowledged me and I am sick of his mind games.
Fuck him.
This is the final nail in his sleaze bag coffin.
Who in the fuck does he think he is?
I’m livid. Livid that he thinks he can treat me like this. Livid that I didn’t see it coming. Livid that my feelings are hurt by yet another asshole.
I’m so done with men.
Angela comes over and sits down beside me. “What’s going on with you two?”
I shrug. “Nothing.”
She watches him as he talks and laughs with Chelsea and another blonde girl. “Are you fighting?” She frowns.
“Not that I know of.”
She screws up her face. “Weird,” she mutters.
I drink the last of my drink. “I might head back to the room. I can’t get off this fucking ship soon enough,” I mutter.
“Yeah, I bet.” She sighs.
I stand.
“Are you going to say something to him?” she asks.
“No. Why bother?”
“You should ask him what his problem is.”
“I don’t care,” I reply dryly. “He can fuck her all night.”
Her eyes hold mine. “You don’t mean that.”
I fake a smile. “Yeah, actually, I do.”
I stand and make my way over to the kitchen, order a dessert to go, and wait for them to cut the cheesecake for me. If I’m going to be depressed tonight, I may as well do it in style. I get my cheesecake and as I am on my way out, he catches my eye.
“I’m going,” I announce.
He nods, unaffected. “See you.” He goes back to his conversation.
Is he fucking kidding? What is his problem? “Can I speak to you for a moment please?” I ask.
“What about?”
I glare at him and he rolls his eyes and stands begrudgingly. I walk out of the common room and he follows.
I turn to face him. “What are you doing?” I whisper.
He frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Why aren’t you talking to me?”
“I didn’t know I had to.”
I fold my arms angrily in front of me. “Is that so?”
He shrugs. “I’m going to hang with Chelsea tonight.” My eyes hold his. “I’m kind of bored in the same old cabin.” He pauses for a moment. “If you know what I mean?”
If he had hit me in the stomach, it would have been less painful.
“Hook up with someone if you want,” he replies nonchalantly. “I’m sure someone else can get the job done.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
That hurt.
Of all the things he could say to me… the fact that he thinks I’m a slut is the worst.
I drop my head in shock. How do you even respond to that? I turn and walk away before he sees the tears that are welling behind my eyes.
I’m done.