by Lucy Smoke
"Unlikely," Texas replied, "but to be safe, we don't know what kind of tech they have on their ship and there's definitely some stuff out there that can hear a whale fart."
I blinked at him as Grayson's hand dropped off my shoulder. Laughter shook his entire body as he pulled away. Even Marv cracked a smile and Bellamy released a chuckle. I swung my gaze to Texas. "Really?" I deadpanned.
"What?" he shrugged. "It's true."
I shook my head again as Knix retrieved his binoculars and moved towards the front of the ship, holding them over his eyes. After several seconds, he nodded. "I think that's it."
"How can you tell?" I asked.
He looked down at me and held out the binoculars. "Would you like to take a look?" he asked.
"I wasn't questioning you," I said quickly as I reached for the binoculars. "I was just curious."
Knix smiled—albeit a bit tightly. "I didn't think you were," he assured me. "Go ahead, take a look."
I stood up, my legs wavering on the bobbing boat and put the binoculars to my eyes. I peered across the vast distance between us and the boat—or rather, spiffed up yacht—that proudly displayed The Hold in giant, cursive lettering across the side.
"It can't be a coincidence," I said, lowering the binoculars.
Knix nodded. "It isn’t."
The Bowrider bobbed in the water, the boat swaying from side to side as the guys jumped into action. Bellamy turned the wheel and pressed the gas just so that we edged closer to The Hold without seeming obvious. We were still so far from them, I wondered how anything we did at this point would be obvious. He wanted to keep the engine quiet as we slowly moved towards them.
I turned to hand Knix the binoculars again and stared, wide-eyed, as he reached back and jerked his shirt up over his head and dropped it on one of the seats. "What are you doing?" I hissed, shocked.
Knix flicked a glance back. "Suiting up."
"Wha—" Marv stood. As did Grayson and Bellamy.
Knix shook his head and pointed to Marv. "You stay here," he said. "Steer while Texas stays in contact."
When I thought Marv might argue, he surprised me by nodding and taking Bellamy's empty seat in front of the wheel. Grayson and Bellamy both pulled their shirts up over their heads in much the same manner. Bellamy swept his hair back into a ponytail and tightened it at the nape of his neck as Knix opened a compartment under one of the seats and began retrieving wetsuits. He handed one to me.
I bit my lip and turned around, facing away from them. At least, I knew why they had asked me to wear a swimsuit. I yanked my clothes off and stepped into the wetsuit. The fabric stuck to my skin. The black material stretched over my curves, outlining literally everything. Even the lines of my bikini top were visible, but there was no way I was jumping into the water without at least something there.
I turned back and released a rushed breath. Knowing what was under the guys' wetsuits, didn't make seeing the subtle outlines of their muscles and abs any less difficult.
"Alright, here's the plan," Knix said, halting my wandering mind. Sharp blue eyes the color of the shifting ocean met mine before they skated away. "We're gonna circle around to the back and climb aboard." Knix pointed to Bellamy. "I want teams. Bell you're with Harlow. Grayson with me."
With his hands on his hips, Knix then turned to Marv and Texas. "Tex. Keep Alex up to date. Call the others and let them know we found the ship. Marv, keep watch. Wait for the signal. We may need a hot exit."
Marv nodded, his steel eyes serious as he looked from Knix to me and back. "Do you want fire?" he asked.
Knix shook his head. "No, I'm hoping to get in and out quietly."
"And if you need it?"
Knix grimaced. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but if necessary, Bellamy and I will have what we need."
I frowned when Marv reached beneath another seat and then handed Knix and Bellamy waterproof backpacks. "Why don't Grayson or I get one?" I asked. "And what's the 'signal'?" I reached up and curled two fingers on each of my hands, air quoting the last word.
"You'll know when you see it," Marv answered with a small smile. "And you and Caruso haven't been trained yet on firearms, so Bellamy and Knix will handle that."
I watched as Knix and Bellamy each took a bag and strapped them on, buckling them across their wide chests. The small backpacks made their size appear that much bigger.
"Let's head out," Knix announced.
Grayson and I moved behind them. "Alright. Grayson and Bellamy in first," Knix directed. As soon as they were in, Knix had me sit on the edge and swing my legs over the side. He took my wrists and helped to lower me into the water where Bellamy was waiting.
"I got you, Sweetheart," Bellamy said, his hands sliding against my hips beneath the surface of the water.
"I'm fine," I said.
Knix got in last and despite his agility, his size still caused ripples of waves to circle outward even making the Bowrider rock back and forth. I turned my head and squinted at The Hold in the distance. I hoped like hell there were no sharks in these waters.
Water splashed against my face and I slicked my wet hair back, pushing my legs to kick harder. Though my arms felt like strained noodles, I kept my face above water and tried to keep pace with the others. Even so, I was still lagging behind. Bellamy ducked back in the line we had carved out as our path—with Knix taking the lead—so that he could remain by me. He continued to look back at me, but I didn't say a word. Knix hadn't left me back on the Bowrider for a reason. Erika was my friend and I was meant to be here, chasing after her. That's what best friends did.
"Are you doing okay?" Bellamy asked.
Too out of breath, I nodded sharply and nearly cried in relief when I realized we were nearly upon The Hold. As a group, we circled around to the back. I froze when I heard the telltale sound of male conversation drifting out over the water. They'd see us! I tapped Bellamy on the arm and flicked my gaze up when he looked back. He paused, treading water and then it came again.
"What do you think the bitch is gonna do?" one guy asked, sounding raspy and bored.
"What the fuck do you think she's gonna do?" the second snapped with a peculiar accent that rounded his vowels, lengthening them. "She's gonna do what they all do—choose to sign and fucking live."
"You don't think the boss would actually want us to kill her, do ya?"
My heart pounded as Bellamy caught Knix's attention and then we swam, as quietly as possible, closer to the hull of the ship, inching along the side of it away from the large front end. I dipped my mouth into the water when I realized how loud I was panting. Now was not the time to get tired.
Knix reached the back lip first, climbing aboard and then reached down to help me up too, as Grayson and Bellamy swung their legs over and scrambled to stand. My chest rose and fell with effort. Silently, Knix met each of our eyes and then pointed to Bellamy and me. With two fingers, he directed us to a door that led inside the main portion of the yacht. Then, with those same fingers, he directed Grayson to follow him.
Bellamy and I started off. I rushed forward and grabbed the handle before Bellamy could say anything and flung it open. I had expected the steps leading down, but not the man—gaping in shock—staring up at me, his hand still outstretched as if he meant to push the door open before I had gotten there. Without thinking, I jumped.
There was a grunt as I landed on the man's chest, pushing him down the remaining few steps. Air rushed past my ears, lifting the wet strands of my dark hair and making them slap my cheeks. His back hit just before his head cracked against the wooden flooring at the bottom of the stairs. When he didn't respond by throwing me off and calling for security, I turned back and peeked up where Bellamy stood on the top step, blinking in surprise. In the next instant, he was down the stairs and at my side. He pulled me off the strange man, felt for a pulse on his neck and then sighed in relief.
With an amused, albeit relieved, smirk, Bellamy reached up and ruffled my hair. "Maybe think before yo
u react next time, Sweetheart."
"Well, what were we gonna do?" I asked. "Tell him we were lost?"
Ignoring my reasonable inquiry, Bellamy moved to lift the man's shoulders. "Get his legs," he said. "Let's find a place to hide him for the time being."
I moved to do as he asked, and we ended up stuffing him in what appeared to be a very small utility closet. There was no room to lay the man down. So, instead, we propped him up against the shelves and closed the door with the locking mechanism turned so that he wouldn't fall unless someone else came by and opened it. Leaving the man to a very nice nap, courtesy of my quick-witted skills—or panic mode as Bellamy said, chuckling under his breath—we headed further into the quiet interior of the yacht.
I listened intently, straining to hear anyone else coming as we moved down an aisle of doors. Bellamy opened each quietly, waited for any sort of noise, and then slipped inside while I waited for several seconds. But each time he returned shaking his head. We still hadn't found Erika.
After the fifth door, I was about ready to slam my face against the wall in frustration and anxiety. Every time Bellamy left me in the hall, I experienced a minor heart attack—worried that in those brief seconds someone else would come around the corner and discover me. We got through the entire hall without finding a single person and, when we reached the kitchen, I was starting to wonder if maybe everyone else was up top.
"This is getting ridiculous," I muttered.
"Have patience," Bellamy replied. "There are some doors—"
"Hey, what the hell are you doing in here?"
Both of our heads jerked up as a deep voice spoke from the doorway behind us. I froze, a deer caught in headlights as the man—tall and slender, in dark slacks and a black button-down shirt—reached for me. I spun away, narrowly avoiding his reach as Bellamy dove across the room. I blinked, and Bellamy's fist slammed across the other man's chin. The man grunted and then reeled back and punched Bellamy as well.
"Go!" Bellamy snapped. "Find Erika!" The other man cried out as Bellamy grabbed him by the back of the shirt, ramming his knee into the man's solar plexus.
I nodded and whirled around towards the hallway on the other side of the kitchen. Bellamy was the one who had helped train me in self-defense. He was good. I knew he could handle himself. I jerked open the first door, not even bothering to use the same stealth Bellamy had before, and was greeted, surprisingly, by a familiar face—though it was decidedly less tan than I remembered.
"H-Harlow?" Erika stared up at me from where she sat on the bed—her back pressed against the bolted down headboard. I hadn't expected that I would find her so quickly, but I hurried to shut the door behind me and rushed across the room.
I wrapped my arms around Erika and squeezed. "Oh my God," I said. "I'm so glad you're safe."
"What are you d-doing here?" Her voice broke in the middle of the sentence.
"I'm here to rescue you," I answered, pulling back and examining her bindings. Handcuffs? Jeez. "Where are the keys?" I asked.
Erika shook her head, and I noted visible tear tracks on her cheeks. My throat tightened with sympathy. "Bernard has them."
I paused. "Bernard?"
She nodded. "He's the guy Josh owes money." She sniffed hard. "Oh Harlow, they want me to..." she hiccupped, "they want me to sign a contract and they want me to—" She cut herself off on a sob as if the mere thought terrified her. I rubbed her shoulder soothingly, but we really didn't have time. I looked around the room, for something, anything that could help me uncuff her. Trying to run while handcuffed might hinder things. It certainly would if we had to jump overboard. She wouldn't be able to swim, and I was not taking my best friend out there only to drown her in our escape.
I moved to the side, opening one of the drawers at the base of the bed frame. Nothing. I opened the next one and only found an extra set of sheets.
"What are you looking for?" Erika asked, sniffing hard.
I shook my head, tearing the sheets out. Come on, there had to be something. But there wasn't. There was nothing. "We need something to break you out of those cuffs," I said.
"Come on, let's just go," Erika said, sounding strained. I lifted my head. She looked at the door longingly, her hands shaking.
"What if we need to swim?" I asked. "You could drown."
She inhaled and released a shuddering breath before her eyes met mine. "You didn't come here alone, right?" she asked. "I mean, you wouldn't...do that?"
"No, I'm not alone. My friends are here with me."
"Then let's go," she said. "Please, I can't stay here any longer and, Harlow, if they catch you, they'll do the same thing to you that they're planning on doing to me. These are bad guys, Harlow. We can't stay."
"Are you sure?"
She nodded once more, her eyes flicking to the door.
I bit my lip and then decided she was right. At least her hands were in front and not tied at her back. Maybe I could find something along the way or maybe Bellamy or Knix had something in their backpack that could at least snap the chain holding her hands together.
I went back to the door and cracked it open. Down the hall, I heard nothing but silence. The fight had either moved or was over entirely. My wet, bare feet slid across the wood flooring of the hallway as I crept back to the kitchen area. Grimacing at the mess of supplies—utensils and food alike strewn across the ground—I tiptoed around the shattered glass bits. A smear of blood on the floor caught my attention. My head jerked up as we reached the bottom of the stairs—our only way out of here—and the door opened.
"Aww, I didn't know you were ready to leave Erika." The man above us stood with his legs shoulder-width apart. He grinned down as Erika cowered at my back.
I grimaced, steeling myself. "Bernard, I presume?" I said, sharply.
The guy's gaze moved from Erika to me, just as I had intended. He grinned, a cruel twist of his lips as he leered down at me. "I'm afraid not, but don't worry, I'm sure he'd love to meet you." He stepped to the side. "Why don't we get introductions started. I do believe your friend has already made his."
With little choice, Erika and I made our way up the stairs and out onto the open deck. The first thing I noticed was Bellamy's face. Blood dripped from a cut somewhere in his hairline. I couldn't see where exactly, but the trail of red spilled down his temple as someone stood behind where he was collapsed on his knees. The second thing I realized were the guns pointed at him…and Erika, and me. The short barrels were threats all their own, but what I really focused on were the fingers that hovered over the triggers. One wrong move, one misstep, and someone's shaky hand could end my life. My heart jumped into my throat and choked me.
"Sweetheart," Bellamy called before the man behind him punched him on the side of the head, cutting him off.
"No talking," the man snapped.
Despite the fact that Bellamy didn't say anything more, the man placed a foot on Bellamy's back and shoved hard, causing Bellamy to jerk forward and slam his face into the floor. He couldn't stop his downward descent, I realized, because he, too, was cuffed—his hands, though, were bound behind his back.
I bit my lip as rage boiled up inside of me. It hurt to watch Bellamy struggle back up onto his knees, but he did shoot me a look that told me not to do anything about it. These men kidnapped my friend, scared her, and now they hurt Bellamy. I wanted nothing more than to run at them, screaming and scratching their eyes out. But that's not how we would win this. Plus, I noticed that Knix and Grayson were nowhere in sight and the man who had caught Erika and me—the one standing to the side of the door we had just come from—said that he had found my friend, singular. Knix and Grayson remained undiscovered.
"Erika, who have you brought us?" An older gentleman stepped forward. I blinked in shock, especially when Erika pressed harder against me in an effort to stay as far from the man as possible.
I looked this man over; he didn't seem particularly threatening. In fact, he looked like he should be someone's grandfather. Ins
tead of the black suit with the garish yellow tie at his neck, I pictured this man in khakis and a good vintage-looking sweater vest. He smiled as he neared, revealing a row of pearly whites. It was that smile, though, that gave me chills. Though he approached slowly and in a non-threatening manner, Erika's trembling against my side gave me pause. This man was a shark in sheep's clothing.
"I'm sorry, Bernard, please, I—"
The man held up his hand, stopping Erika's rushed tirade. I reached down and squeezed her hand, trying to comfort her as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. I narrowed my eyes at the man.
"It's alright Erika, I can understand that the decision you're about to make can be trying for some. It's always easier with a friend nearby." His dark eyes moved to me and I finally realized why this man reminded me of a shark. His eyes were cold. His smile and warm voice couldn't hide that. "I'm Bernard Holding," he said, reaching out with his hand. "And you are?" I let his hand hang between us.
"Harlow," Erika hissed, jerking her eyes from my face to Bernard's.
"Your name is Harlow?" He let his hand fall away, but the smile remained. "A pretty name for a pretty girl."
"I'm sure you've met girls prettier than me," I said coolly.
His smile widened. "The prettiest girls are the ones who understand politeness and respect of their elders," he said.
"Harlow," Bellamy called, shaking his head.
Even as the man behind him punched him in the side of the head again, causing me to flinch, Bernard kept his gaze on me. "Your friend over there seems to be warning you," he said casually. "You should listen to him."
"Or what?" I snapped, the anger boiling over. "You'll force me to sign one of your contracts too? Or you'll kill us, is that it?"
Bernard stared at me for a moment before stepping closer. "Our contracts protect our girls," he said quietly, "from any distasteful decisions they may make. If your friend here had had a keeper before she made the unlucky decision to get involved with the wrong Caruso brother, then maybe things would have turned out better for her. As it stands, she has a debt to settle. You, of course, can leave." He gestured to the side of the boat. "I'm just wondering, however, how you expect to get back when there's no other boat around for miles."
