I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from breaking into a broad smile.
Stace ushers me into a waiting cab and then surprisingly climbs in behind me. Huh?
The driver turns. “Where to?”
“Bogota,” Stace replies. “Bog Hotel.”
My eyes widen. “Bog Hotel?” I ask. “Are you joking?”
He smiles with a shake of his head. “It’s nice. Trust me.”
I nod and think for a minute. “Are we dropping you somewhere first?”
“No, of course not.” He subtly points to the driver with his chin.
I glance up at the driver as his eyes flick up to us in the rear view mirror.
Shit. I turn and look out the window in annoyance. You can’t even trust a fucking cab driver. The trip is long, over an hour, but I don’t mind. I’m hanging out the window like a dog, lapping up the scenery. The place is colourful and alive… so different to anywhere I have ever been before.
With every mile farther away from the ship we get, I feel a little more of my positive self return.
I’m doing this.
I’m really doing this. I have a fake passport, the means to have a lot of money and possibility to go anywhere I want in the world unencumbered.
I have never felt so free and I am finding it hard to wipe the stupid grin from my face. As if reading my mind, Stace is looking over at me smiling, too.
Can he feel how happy I am?
Finally, after what seems like forever, we arrive and the cab comes to a halt. I peer out of the car as my bravery instantly dissipates. Stace jumps out and pays the driver, but I remain seated where I am as I try to calm my nerves. It looks okay, not at all what I imagined. I glance around at the street. It’s busy and narrow with trees lining the pavement. The doormen all look respectable and this seems pretty swanky. I kind of thought I would be getting dumped off in a ghetto somewhere.
My car door opens suddenly. It startles me and I jump. Stace frowns down at me in the car. “Out you get.”
I nod a little too quickly.
“You okay?” he asks.
I fake a smile. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” I jump out of the car.
I am okay when I have to pretend to be brave. I’ve been doing it all my life. Acting brave is my safe place.
When I act brave. I feel brave.
We walk into the lobby and Stace approaches the desk. “We have a booking in the name of Williams,” he says to the sexy blonde receptionist.
The receptionist’s eyes drop to his arms and then down his muscular body. Her eyes linger a little too long on him for my liking and I glare at her. I’m still here you know? How rude? I mean, yes, sure he’s hot, but he’s also my fucking pretend boyfriend.
Eyes off, slut.
“Yes, Sir.” She smiles sexily as her eyes hold his. He smirks back knowing exactly what she is thinking.
Good grief. If this is how things work in Columbia, I may have to cut a bitch.
My eyes flicker between the two of them in annoyance. Have they forgotten I am fucking here?
“When you are finished ogling my husband, I would like to go to our room, please,” I snap, unable to help myself.
“Of course, Mrs. Williams,” she mutters in a fluster and drops her attention to the computer and types furiously.
Ugh, why did I just say that? I feel my underarms heat with embarrassment. I peer up at Stace and he is smiling down at me like a Cheshire cat.
“Don’t,” I mouth with a dirty look. I snap my eyes away, angry that I just showed him my jealous streak.
Just leave me here and go. I really, really need you to go.
She puts the two plastic cards into an envelope and hands it over to him. “The booking is for fourteen nights and I have you in the Luxury suite as requested on the top floor.”
“Thank you,” he replies as he takes the cards from her.
Huh, fourteen nights? I frown as I follow him into the elevator and the door closes behind us.
“You booked me for fourteen nights?” I ask.
“Yes,” he replies as he watches the dial above the door go up the floors.
“Why?”
“So you have somewhere safe until you get yourself sorted. This may come as a surprise to you, but I am not exactly thrilled about leaving you here alone.”
“Oh.” I smile gratefully. “Thank you.”
We stay silent as the doors open and I follow him down the corridor to the room. He opens it and I stand still. Wow. It’s glitzy… like, super glitzy.
A beautiful, cream upholstered king bed with a studded Head board and a huge leather caramel lounge. Sheer curtains line a back wall that is alight with natural light. Behind the bed is a coffee-coloured glass wall, and I peer around to see a huge free-standing bathtub and marble bathroom.
I laugh out loud.
He smiles a proud of himself smile. “Is it okay?”
“Okay?” If I could hug him, I would. “It’s the nicest room I have ever seen.”
He walks over to the window and pulls the sheer curtain back to look down at the road, as if thinking. “I will take you shopping and then I will head straight back to the ship,” he replies as he keeps his eyes firmly on the street below.
My good mood instantly falls. “Oh, okay.” Yes, he’s right, he needs to go. Of course he does. “What do we need to go shopping for?”
“Clothes. You don’t own a thing.”
I shrug. “Ah, that’s okay. I’m not really a things person.”
He turns and looks at me in surprise. “You don’t like things?”
I shake my head.
“All women like things.”
“I’m not all women. I have done without things for most of my life and I know for certain that things don’t make me happy.”
His eyes hold mine for an extended time before he finally answers. “We will get you what you need.”
“I don’t have any money.”
“We will open you a bank account while we are here.” He fumbles around in his bag and pulls out a wad of cash and passes it over to me. “Here is five thousand to deposit.”
I frown as I stare down at the thick bundle of money in my hand. “You’re giving me money?”
“Of course I am. How are you going to live if you don’t have money?”
I stare down at the cash in my hand, overwhelmed at his kindness.
“I-I will pay you back,” I stammer.
“Not necessary. I earn a lot.”
Regret swirls in my stomach. I have stolen his diamonds and here he is being nice and giving me his hard earned cash. Well, not technically his diamonds, but the same thing I suppose. He is the boss of the ship and they are under his watch. What if he gets into trouble because of me?
What if they kill him?
Oh no, my mind starts to race. What if they do kill him? What if they torture him to death and think that he was in on this with me? No, they wouldn’t. He would blame Stucco, that’s what I would do. Someone was already stealing from the ship. The key went missing remember.
Fuck.
Should I fess up?
No. Don’t be stupid.
The air in the room changes and I feel panicky and sick.
I look over at his broad back as he stares down at the street lost in his own world. What is he thinking about?
Is he onto me?
I don’t want him to take me shopping now. I want to get as far away from him as possible. I feel guilty. I know he is feeling somewhat guilty for letting them take me, throwing money at me and all. What if he knows I took it and he is setting a trap to see if I will really go through with it?
Oh, I hate this. I am not cut out to be a fucking criminal.
My thoughts are broken by his deep, husky voice. “Come on then.” He moves to the door and ushers me out.
Moments later, we are walking through the reception area and he picks up my hand and takes it in his. My heart flutters. We haven’t been intimate since he told me he was bored in the cabin and was going to Chelsea, and he hasn’t tried to touch me at all. Not that I have wanted him to. He is probably lucky he hasn’t, to be honest, because I may have cut off his hand.
Part of me-the insecure part-wonders if he turned off me when he heard about my fucked up family, of me being broke and hiding all of my life. Of my own flesh and blood murdering the mother of his child in front of that child. I know I shouldn’t feel embarrassed and it’s not my fault, but I feel as though, in the eyes of others, it taints me.
It takes away my shine and tarnishes my innocence.
I mean, how would my future boyfriend introduce me to his parents or to his friends?
He couldn’t. He could never truthfully tell them my story because it will never be accepted. Nobody would want their son to marry someone like me with the emotional baggage I have. I can only bring danger to their lives and pain. I’m good at bringing that and that’s why Mom kept us at a distance from normal people.
My children will never have freedom as long as I live in the United States with my father alive. He will always find me.
It is with the last thought strong in my mind that I pick up. I need to do this.
I do deserve a new start where nobody owes me anything.
I look him straight in the eye. “Lets go shopping.”
This is fucking drug money and I’m entitled to it as much as any of those bastards.
* * *
We walk hand in hand down the street and I have a huge smile across my face. We have opened a bank account, which was surprisingly easy. Stace has gone crazy and we are loaded with shopping bags. He has bought me nightgowns and swimmers, makeup and hairbrushes, underwear, dresses, a hat, and three pairs of shoes. I tried to pay with the money he gave me but he wouldn’t have it. Funny thing is, the things he has picked for me are not my style at all, but because he has liked them on me, I have wanted them. As if somehow his opinion is the only one that matters. I am a new person now. I can be anyone I want to be.
He stops in front of a designer boutique. “Let’s go in here.”
I look at the expensive furnishings. “It looks too expensive. I don’t need fancy clothes.”
“What if you have a date? You will need something nice to wear.”