Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“But that’s where you’re wrong.” Lifting my fork, I take a bite of the French toast in front of me.
Her eyes narrow, and then she opens her mouth. “How do you figure?”
The fork clangs against the table as I place it down and then stare into her eyes. “You already are bait. Already strung up and hooked by the fishing line. The only question is, are you a catch and release?”
10
Phoenix
Holy crap.
I am in way over my head. My stomach flip-flops as his words bounce around in my head.
There has to be a way off this boat.
It takes all my effort to appear unaffected, but it’s pretty much a lost cause. Because no matter how hard I try, what he said sits heavy in my belly, and all the food I’ve just shoved in my mouth is not making me feel any better. I can feel bile rising up my throat. I try to swallow, but it’s hard.
Slowly, and with careful precision, I reach my hands to grab the glass of water in front of me.
Eating and drinking, pretty much doing anything, is nearly impossible with your hands tied. Each move I make hurts more than the next. The plastic bites at my skin, but I don’t show that I’m in pain. I refuse for him to see that it’s hurting me.
The only thing I should be thankful for is that he didn’t secure my hands behind my back. Lord, that would suck.
I lift it to my mouth and guzzle it down. Yeah, this is much easier in the movies.
“Having a problem?” the bastard asks from across the table. It’s probably a good thing I’m in this predicament right now because a very large part of me wants to throw this glass across the table at his head. That move would one hundred percent get me a one-way ticket into the ocean. Life vest not included.
Nope. Dying is not part of the plan. It’s obvious I have to abandon my mission, and now my only plan is getting off this boat alive and not allowing this asshole to use me as “bait.”
“How about I take those off?” Alaric says as he continues to look at me. I wish he would stop because it’s unnerving.
“Why do I feel like there’s a catch?”
“There’s no catch.”
Not one part of me believes him.
“There always is. Spit it out, and I’ll decide.”
“You don’t try to kill me. That’s the catch,” he says nonchalantly, and my mouth drops open. “I’ll keep you alive. I won’t kill you. I’ll even promise once your part is played in all this, I’ll let you go.”
The bargain doesn’t sit well, but I know I have no choice. “Fine.”
I’ll think of another plan. I always do. I’ll pretend to play nice, then I’ll search the boat for George. Together, I’m sure we can think of something.
Alaric abruptly stands and prowls over. With me sitting and him standing, he towers above me.
Tall and domineering.
He’s quick to reach under his shirt, to his hip, and pulls out a knife.
This isn’t some small pocketknife. This is a large hunting knife.
Seriously, Phoenix, what the hell have you gotten yourself involved in?
Who carries a knife that big? Someone who probably has a gun there too. Why am I surprised? The man employs an entourage of villains all on standby. He’s an arms dealer for crying out loud. Yep. I’m in way over my head.
The plastic pulls at my wrist, but then with a slice of his knife, I’m released.
I shake out my wrists. Once the blood begins to circulate properly, I rub at them. A small groove is present from the plastic. Luckily for me, it didn’t chafe.
After he banded my hands, I didn’t bother fighting because I didn’t want to tear my skin. With my free hands now at my disposal, I look at the table, my gaze lingering on the knife.
“Easy there, killer. We had a deal.”
“I know.”
“Then stop eyeing the butter knife. One, it won’t kill me, and two … it will just piss me off.”
“Good to know.”
I grab my fork and continue eating. With what I have planned, I’ll need my strength.
* * *
After the meal, Alaric escorts me to my stateroom.
It’s different than what I imagined. Luxurious and decadent. An enormous queen-sized bed sits in the middle of the room, and there are pillows for days, which makes me yawn.
But I don’t step inside.
“Is it not to your liking?” he asks, his voice dripping sarcasm.
“It’s not what I expected.”
“Did you expect a dungeon in the boat’s bow?”
“Basically,” I mutter.
He moves toward me, and I back away from him.
“You are not my prisoner.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Go to bed. You haven’t slept yet, so you must be exhausted.”
I hesitate before stepping farther into the room.
“This isn’t a trick or a trap. You are safe here.”