by Bella Jewel
“Great, I’m desperate to pee. I’ll just be over by the toilets when he arrives. Thank you so much.”
She shrugs, not at all bothered, and presses a button before announcing him to come to reception.
The girls and I walk toward the toilets, which put us just out of view, as predicted. I tell them to go, because the more of us that are here, the more suspicious it’ll look. They agree, leaving only Jaylah behind and we promise to meet them on the pool deck as soon as we catch a glance of our main man. They disappear and Jaylah and I peek around just slightly to wait to see Vincent come through the doors.
It takes fifteen minutes, possibly more, and I’m getting antsy by the time a tall man walks through the doors. He’s middle aged, maybe early forties, and has sandy blond hair. I can’t tell the color of his eyes, but he’s sporting a light moustache and is very well dressed, very professional with suit pants and a button-up shirt. You wouldn’t pick him as a bad man, though the way he carries himself would make him a powerful one.
I take my phone out and take a quick snap, and then Jaylah and I rush into the toilets just as the woman points in our direction. We both get into a stall and lock the door. Hopefully he’ll only wait a few minutes, see no one is here, and leave. Then we can get the hell out of here.
“Do you think he’s waiting outside?” Jaylah whispers.
“I don’t know. You don’t think he’ll come in here, do you?”
Jaylah shakes her head. “Gosh no. Surely she wouldn’t let him do that.”
We wait for another fifteen minutes, and only then do I tip toe to the door and crack it just slightly, peering out. I can’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean he’s not waiting in the lobby, or even at the reception desk. Luckily for us, there are two exits out of this place, and we’re going to take the other one that doesn’t have us passing the desk.
I step out, pushing the door quietly and waving to Jaylah with my other hand to indicate she should come over. Then I glance left and right, seeing it’s clear and we rush out the door and back into the main part of the ship. We find an elevator right away and get ourselves up to the pool deck. As soon as we’re there, the other girls come rushing over.
“Did it work?” Ash asks, clasping her hands together.
“It worked.” I grin. “We saw him and snapped a picture. Here, look.”
I show them the picture so they all know what he looks like.
“Now what?” Santana asks.
“Now we finish this.”
Once and for all.
“SO,” I SAY TO THE THREE men sitting in front of me. “We found the bad guy, so to speak.”
Cade, Jackson, and Spike all stare at me, Jackson with his arms crossed, Spike tipping his head to the side, and Cade exhaling because he knows we’ve been up to no good and he isn’t happy about that. Still, we got the information and I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear it rather than get off this ship and straight into the FBI’s arms.
“Explain,” Jackson mutters, shaking his head now too.
“Don’t get shitty at us, Daddy,” Addison scoffs. “We did you all a favor.”
“Just tell us what you got up to.” Cade gives her a look and she blows him a kiss.
“Well,” I say, walking over and climbing onto Spike’s lap. He lets me, shifting so I can position myself on him. His hand goes to my leg and squeezes just slightly. It’s like I’m taming the bear when I do this, get all cuddly and cute. He also knows I only do it to avoid getting into trouble.
He leans in and growls, “This isn’t going to stop me tanning your fuckin’ ass later, baby.”
I pretend he didn’t say anything, but my heart flutters all the same. I go on, as if he didn’t speak. “We managed to track down the girl who was dating Isaac, one of the guys who got killed.”
“How?” Jackson demands.
“We asked questions.” Addi shrugs. “There aren’t many people on the ship, it isn’t hard to figure out. We got a name off the girl by pretending Jaylah was dating Isaac. It was easy, really.”
“Wait,” Cade growls. “Jaylah?”
Oh.
Shit.
We failed to mention that part.
“Ah,” I say guiltily when Spike squeezes my leg. “Well, yeah, we had some help.”
“Jokers Wrath help?” Jackson scoffs. “Seriously? Why would you involve them when we’ve already got our fuckin’ eye on them?”
“It wasn’t them,” Serenity says carefully, “you know that. Just like it wasn’t you. Instead of blaming them, we should be working with them to make sure we all get off this ship without a problem.”
Jackson gives her a look, but she holds her ground, staring at him, just daring him to keep arguing with her. She’s right, though. Our club has been watching their club, wondering if they have something to do with it, and their club has been doing the same. They’re all keeping an eye on each other instead of thinking outside the square. Someone had to point them in the right direction, and we did that.
“Who is this man you found?” Spike asks, when Jackson keeps staring at Serenity like he’s going to put her over his knee and spank her.
Hell, he probably is.
“His name is Vincent. Apparently, he’s not a good man and is running drugs. Isaac got involved and Oscar followed. They got into some trouble, and my guess is he took them out. What a perfect time, really. It was made to look like something other than what it was and using the fact that two clubs were on the ship just made it that much easier for him.”
“Vincent, you say?” Cade rubs at his chin. “What does he look like?”
“I have a picture,” I say. “It took a bit to locate him without him seeing us, but he didn’t see us and has no idea who we are or the fact that we’re onto him.”
I pull out my phone and hand it to Cade, showing him a picture. He studies it for a moment, and then with a hard expression he turns the phone toward Jackson.
“You’re kidding me,” Jackson mutters. “How the fuck have we not seen him getting around?”
“Wait, you know him?” Addison asks.
“We know him alright,” Cade goes on, showing Spike the picture now. “Had some trouble with him years ago. That’s why he knew to make it look like the club was involved. Clever little fucker. He would have purposely been staying out of our way. With a ship this size, we’re unlikely to run into him if he’s avoiding us.”
“So, this is a set up? We were right?” I say, wanting to clap my hands and say I told you so but not doing it because they wouldn’t appreciate it.
Still.
Yay, team.
“Yep,” Jackson mutters. “Didn’t have beef with him, do now. He’s put us in the hot pot and thinks we weren’t goin’ to fuckin’ figure it out.”
“To avoid being rude here—” Addison points a finger toward us girls “—but you wouldn’t have figured it out if we didn’t look into it. You were all worried about the Jokers and not focusing on the actual facts. Without us this ship would have stopped tomorrow, Vincent would have gotten off, and we would have been the point of questioning for the police. By the time they considered another option, he’d be long gone.”
Jackson stares at her. “Don’t get cocky about it.”
“C’mon, Daddy, you can tell us we did a good job. It wouldn’t hurt.”
“Good job or not,” Spike says, lifting me off his lap as he stands, “we’ve got tonight to sort this shit out. Don’t leave us much time. Any ideas?”
“First things first, we talk to the Jokers, fill them in. Don’t really want to involve them but we need all hands on deck if we’re goin’ to walk away clean.”
“There’s a dress up Christmas party tonight, no doubt Vincent will show up. I think we need a plan for that, something to get him caught out,” I say, throwing the idea out there.
Mostly, I want to dress up and have fun.
Catching the bad guy is just an extra.
“Fuckin’ dress ups, I don’t dress up,” Spike
mutters.
I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss him. “You do now, honey. You do now.”
This is going to be fun.
Oh, so much fun.
8
JAYLAH
I WALK UP BEHIND MACK who is standing on our private patio, looking out at the beautiful blue ocean. I’m risking it all, I’m just going for it like they told me to. I’m taking a shot and hoping it works. I want to break the ice; I need to break it so that we can at least enjoy our last night on the ship. I have to do something.
I reach out when I get to him and put my arms around his waist, bringing my body close to his. He’s shirtless, and I press my nose against his warm, tanned skin and breathe him in. I’ve missed him, so damned much it hurts. I want every single inch of him and more, but I’m going to take it easy here. I don’t want a fight, and I don’t want to make things worse.
I run my hands up and down, over his smooth chest, down his ripped abs and stop at the beginning of his shorts. He doesn’t move, hell, he doesn’t even acknowledge what I’m doing. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He either wants this, or he’s trying to figure out how to tell me he doesn’t. I talked to myself over and over before I came in here, saying I’d be understanding no matter what happened, that I’d listen and talk and not react.
I take a deep breath and plunge my hand into his shorts, finding his cock and curling my fingers around it. His sharp intake of breath urges me on, and I begin stroking, feeling my whole body come to life as I run my hand over the hardening length. I want him so fucking bad my pussy aches and my nipples throb, but I’m not going to push it. Something at this point is better than nothing.
I start stroking, a little faster, feeling his cock growing in my palm. I press my lips to his back and kiss the warm skin, wanting to spin him around and capture his lips in mine, but not wanting to make things worse. Right now, this is enough if I get away with it. I’m not going to push for more. I close my eyes and keep kissing a trail along the hard ridge of his back and shoulders. His cock gets harder and harder, and his breathing becomes more labored.
God.
I want him.
I want him so damned bad it’s making me ache so badly I have to squeeze my legs together to try and calm it down a little.
It being my pussy.
My very deprived pussy.
I whimper when he makes a low sound in his throat, and my hand works his cock harder and faster, until his fingers grip the railing and I see his muscles tense. A moment later, he cums, hot and hard, in my hand and his shorts. I stroke his cock until every last drop has been released and then I let him go and slip my hand out.
I expect him to turn around, talk to me, say something, but instead he turns and disappears into the bathroom. He doesn’t even make eye contact with me. The pain and shame I feel hit me so hard I just stand there, my eyes welling with tears. I’ve never felt so used and so pathetic in my entire life. Not ever. The way he just made me feel is indescribable. He didn’t even look at me.
By the time he comes out of the shower, tears are rolling down my cheeks. He finally looks at me, but he says nothing. There is nothing in the brown depths of his eyes. I’m done. I’m not going to tiptoe around this anymore, or be sensitive, or give him time and space. I want to know what the hell is going on and I’m not leaving until he tells me.
“What is wrong with you?” I whisper, my voice cracking.
“Jaylah,” he begins, but I cut him off, putting a hand up.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” My voice raises now, hitching every few seconds as my tears become more intense. “You just let me jerk you off and you turned and walked off without another word. You didn’t even look at me. What the fuck, Mack?”
“I didn’t ask for you to do that. You chose to. Now you’re gettin’ angry at me.”
I blink. “You’re kidding, right?”
“You’re being irrational.”
Irrational? He can’t be serious. He can’t. Is he honestly standing here acting like he hasn’t done a single thing wrong? That he didn’t just walk away from me and make me feel pathetic? Now I’m being irrational?
No.
No ,I’m not.
I’ve had enough.
“There’s something wrong with you,” I say, my voice stony cold and so serious if he chooses not to answer my next question then he can go the fuck to hell. “You’re either going to tell me, or I’m going to walk out of here and consider my options. I’ve stood by you through thick and thin, Mack. Something is off, and I can’t deal with it anymore. You either confide in me, or I walk out that door. What’s it going to be?”
He stares at me, for a long moment.
So long I think maybe he’s about to open up and tell me everything.
Instead, he says the six words that utterly crush my soul. He says them knowing full well that I’ll walk out the door. He makes that choice when he lets them slip from his lips. He is letting me go. “There is nothing wrong with me.”
Tears roll down my cheeks, but I don’t say another word.
I turn, pick up my things, and walk out of the room.
Just like I said I would.
I’m not the kind of woman to make idle threats. I don’t play games. I get straight to the point. Mack knows that, which is why it hurts even more because he knew I’d stick to my word, and he knew I’d walk out the door.
I don’t know what’s going on with him, but whatever it is, he’s willing to lose me over it.
I don’t need to wait around to hear him say it.
I step out the door and close it, then I shut my eyes as the tears roll down my cheeks so hard they drip off my chin in seconds.
I’m done.
So done.
“YOU OKAY, HONEY?” SANTANA asks, running a curler through my hair.
I stare at my puffy red eyes in the mirror. I’m not okay. Gosh, I’m so far from being okay I don’t even know what to think right now. My mind is numb, my heart hurts, and everything feels like it’s falling apart. I haven’t heard from Mack, I just came straight to Santana’s room and lost it, told her everything and she’s been helping me ever since. Getting me ready for tonight, trying to make me feel okay.
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel okay again.
“No,” I tell her, and it’s the truth. “I’m not.”
“I’m so sorry. I know it means nothing right now, but I don’t think he means it. I know Mack loves you, so damned much. He’s just got something going on and he’s lost. Please believe that.”
“He let me walk out the door,” I say to her, my voice shaky. “He knew I would, and he let me.”
She squeezes my shoulder, what’s she going to say? There’s nothing more to say. She knows Mack, and she knows that I’m right.
“Knock knock.”
We both turn and see the door open and Maddox steps in from the hall. He gives me a sympathetic smile, and then Mack walks in behind him. I look away immediately, my heart pounding. I don’t even want to see him, let alone hear whatever it is he’s come here to tell me. He made it clear how he felt, now he’s come to drive the knife even further home.
“We need to talk, Jay,” Mack says.
“I don’t have anything else to say to you, Mack. You had your chance to talk.”
“Hear him out, darlin’, yeah?” Maddox says. “Come on, Tana. We’re goin’ to talk to the Knights. We’ll be back soon.”
Santana stares at me in the mirror and gives me a small smile before turning. She looks at Mack and says, “She’s the best damned thing that’s ever happened to you. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I do know that if you push her away, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Be honest with her, do not make things worse.”
With that, Maddox and she walk out the door, closing it behind them. I stay facing the mirror, because I have nothing to say to Mack. I gave him the chance, and he didn’t take it, now he’s here to tell me what? What exactly? What could he
possibly say after making things clear earlier?
No.
There is nothing he can say.
Nothing.
“I’m not right, Jaylah,” he begins. “I haven’t been for a few months. Started as feelin’ down, and it got worse. To the point where I can’t make sense of my thoughts. I’m angry, I’m frustrated, my leg is makin’ me feel like I have not a fuckin’ thing goin’ for me. I can’t work properly, I can’t do fuckin’ anythin’ without it gettin’ in the way. I have no purpose. I have nothing that makes me feel good anymore. Nothin’ at all.”
My heart twists, and I turn around slowly, facing him. “Not even me?”
“Not even you.”
Oh, god.
Those words hurt more than I could have ever imagined.
My stomach twists and my chest feels like a grown man is lying on it. I can’t breathe without it feeling like my lungs are going to explode.
“You don’t love me anymore?” I whisper.
“I never said that. I’m confused. Fuckin’ numb. I don’t love ... anything. I don’t feel anything. Your feelings don’t bother me. My feelings are pointless. I’m fuckin’ broken, Jaylah.”
He’s depressed.
I know the signs of depression.
I know he’s struggling.
“You’re depressed, Mack,” I say, tears burning under my eyelids. “You need to get help.”
“I’m not fuckin’ depressed, Jaylah. I’m just stuck in a rut, and I need to get out of it. You need to give me time and space to do that.”
“You’re not stuck in a rut,” I argue. “You’re depressed and you need to get help, I’ll come with you, we can do it together.”
“I’m not fuckin’ depressed,” he roars. “I’m not that fuckin’ weak!”
Weak.
Of course he sees it as weak.
With his past, and how things have been for him, he sees anything like this as a sign of weakness, but it isn’t. God. It isn’t. I wish I could tell him it’s okay, that it’s perfectly normal to go through something like this, that there’s help, and things will get better. But I know Mack is stubborn, and I can’t make him listen to me. I also know when you’re feeling the way he’s feeling right now, that it can be hard to get help because you’re so stuck.
