by Bella Jewel
I nod, and drop my head. He watches me a moment longer, before turning and storming out. I crumple backwards, and a loud, wracking sob escapes me. There’s no way out. We can’t escape. Eric crawls to the bars, and he gently whispers, “Indi, it’s going to be okay.”
“It’s not okay,” I wail, clenching my fists, and shaking my head from side to side. “Eric, he’s going to sell me. What am I going to do?”
I lift my head to see Eric’s face fall. “We’re going to get out of this, I swear it Indi.”
“There is no way out,” I scream.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he murmurs, reaching out and taking my hand. “I swear.”
What he doesn’t understand, in his goddamned black and white world…is that there’s nothing he can do to stop this one.
They leave us in that cell for another entire night, and all of the following day. They didn’t give us any more food and water. I have never wanted to die so much in my entire life. The idea of dying is so much kinder to my mind than the idea of living and slowly dehydrating, and suffering until my body can’t take it anymore and shuts down. My tongue feels like it’s a thick chunk of sandpaper. My throat is so dry I am terrified to swallow, because the pain is too much. My body has gone beyond starving, and is now edging on shutting down.
“Indi?” Eric croaks from his spot by the bars.
“I’m here,” I whisper. My head is hanging, because it’s too hard to lift.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m…getting there.”
“We can’t do this much longer. We’re going to die if we don’t do something soon.”
“They won’t let me die,” I say, hoping I’m right. “I’m the prize money.”
“Maybe they have found something else. We can’t rely on that,” he says, his voice so hoarse it’s barley recognizable.
“What do we do, Eric, because I sure as shit can’t figure out how to escape this god forsaken ship!” I bite out.
“We need a plan, for when they come back down. We can’t see anything down here, we can’t see rooms, or escape routes - nothing. We need a way to get up there.”
He’s right. Of course he’s right. I know there’s only one way out, and that’s perhaps stealing a lifeboat, or a raft, or hell, a barrel. There has to be something we can escape on, and getting up on deck to see is the only way to know. But how does one get up there?
“We’re in a tiny cell, Eric. How do you suppose we get out?”
“If you’re their prize,” he says, his voice low, “they won’t want you to die.”
“What are you getting at?” I whisper impatiently.
“I think you should pretend to have passed out when they come back down. They might freak, and take you above deck. You can scope the place out, find a way to escape.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” I say, nodding. “But they might not come down here for days.”
“Maybe not, but if they want you alive, they will.”
I close my eyes, focusing on my breathing. “We can only try. There’s no other option for us.”
I hope this works.
We have nothing else.
“I’m yer cap’n, and yer me lassie. For real, that be!”
“Indi,” Eric whispers frantically. “Wake up!”
I stir from my spot on the floor and my entire body aches. I blink rapidly to try and focus my gaze on Eric.
“They’re coming down!”
I try to move my body, but it really is stiff and sore. I hear the thumping above deck, and the sound of the cell door being unlocked. He’s right; they’re coming down. How many days has it been? I don’t know.
“Pass out, Indi,” Eric whispers. “Don’t get up.”
I stay in my position, trying to relax myself so that it looks real. I have to steady my breathing to make my body look less stiff. I hear the sounds of boots, and then the room seems to brighten. I can tell this, even though my eyes are closed.
“Please,” I hear Eric beg. “She won’t wake up. Please help her.”
“Fuck, I told you to give her water,” Hendrix barks.
“I did, Cap.”
“I meant enough to fuckin’ make sure she didn’t end up like this. Did you fuckers even give them anything the past few days, like I instructed?” he bellows.
Silence fills the room.
Hendrix wanted them to feed us? He wasn’t trying to kill us slowly. My chest swells with hope.
“Sorry Cap, I thought…I thought Jess gave it to them and…”
“Fuck, incompetent idiots!”
I hear the cell door open, and a moment later I feel arms go around my body and lift me. I keep myself as floppy as I possibly can.
“Get Senny and Jess, they need to see to her.”
There are women on the ship? My heart flutters. Women could mean hope. They might help me.
Hendrix carries me out, and I hear him order the pirate to get Eric water and food, and I’m thankful for that. More than anything, I want to make sure he’s okay. When we get up and out into the halls, I crack my eyes open, frantically trying to take in my surrounds. Some doors are open, and in one I can see a window. A window is good. I see inside the dining room, with its long tables and chairs scattered about everywhere. We pass a small kitchen; knives…knives could be good.
“I know what you’re doin’,” Hendrix suddenly says.
I quickly peer up at him to see he’s looking down at me. Shit. He busted me scoping out his ship. He busted me pretending to be passed out. God, I am so stupid. I didn’t even fool him for a minute, not even a damned minute. How am I supposed to escape when I can’t even make him believe I’ve passed out for five minutes?
“Can’t blame me for trying,” I croak.
“What were you plannin’ on doin’?” He smirks. “Overpowering me with your impressive strength, then running off with a knife and jumping overboard?”
Okay, well now that he puts it like that I feel stupid. I frown, and turn my eyes away from his.
“It wouldn’t have worked for more than one reason, but the main being that we are in the middle of the ocean, a long way away from anything civil. You’d be dead in a day.”
Asshole.
“I could have gotten overboard. It has to be better than just sitting here and waiting for you to sell me as some sort of sex slave,” I snap.
He suddenly drops me to my feet. My knees buckle and it’s only because of his tight grip around my arm that I don’t crumble to the floor. I’m so weak. He begins to drag me, his pace angry and determined. He leads me down the hall, and up the stairs onto the deck.
It’s late afternoon, and the sun is just beginning to lower on the horizon. I squint, even though the sun isn’t high in the sky. I’ve been in a dark cell for days, and it burns. He pulls me toward the railing and shoves me against it, pressing a hand to the back of my neck and pushing my face over the side.
What the hell?
“W…w…what are you doing?” I cry, struggling as much as my weak body will allow.
“Watch,” he snarls, and then he turns his head. “Drake, get out here and throw some bait over!”
A minute passes, and then a chunk of thick meat is flung over the side of the ship. It lands in the water, making a small splash. Hendrix keeps his grip on the back of my head, and my chest begins to constrict. Then I see them. My vision blurs a moment, and my bottom lip trembles. At least six sharks, big ones, come up to the surface. One of them launches out of the water, snapping up the piece of meat as if it was no more than a bite sized snack. I begin to cry. My entire body shakes, and panic fills me. Even if I find a way off, those sharks are deadly. I’d likely never get far.
“Do you see that?” Hendrix barks. “Do you fucking see it? That’s what is in these waters, that is what happens if you try and leap over the side.”
“I…I…I get it,” I cry.
He shoves my head down further, and I scream. “You want to be shark bait?”
�
��No,” I scream, squirming.
“You want them to tear you to pieces, slowly?”
“Goddammit, no!”
He hurls me back up, and my body slams into his chest. My knees do buckle now, and he lets me fall. I hit the deck. My hands splay out on the damp wood, and I begin to pant. I’m done for. I have no way out. How do you escape something like this? The ocean has suddenly become a deadly place, filled with far more danger than I ever could have imagined.
“My suggestion to you is to stop trying. There is no way off this ship, girl. Not without causing your own death.”
I shake. I am doing this wrong. I am trying to escape when, really, my best chance at escape is when he attempts to make the deal. I imagine whoever he is selling me to will be on land, and therefore I will have a small window of opportunity to run. If I’m dead, I won’t get that chance.
Hendrix might have scared me, but I’m not about to give up.
Not yet.
Hendrix lets me sit on the deck for a moment after the shark incident while he speaks to a group of pirates in the corner. He’s deep in conversation, so I decide to take the risk. He is so sure he’s scared me enough that I won’t try and figure something out. My mind goes to the knives in the kitchen—hell, there’s probably even a gun or two lying around. A shock attack, and I’d have to be careful, but I might be able to get Eric and get into the small boat at the back of the ship. The small boat he doesn’t know I saw while I was sitting here, recovering from the shock scare. It’s there, though, right at the back, just visible. I stand slowly, and very carefully I tiptoe toward the door that leads down to the second level.
I hold my breath as I take each step, so sure I will have a gun pressed to my head before I make it down to the last step. I get to the bottom, and slowly turn. He hasn’t noticed. I pick up speed now, moving as quickly as I can down the halls. I get to the first room, and run into it. I don’t pay much attention to the bland wooden walls in the tiny room, or the single bed that looks like it’s seen better days in the corner. I go straight to the drawers beside it, and open them. Come on, there has to be a gun in here somewhere. Not finding one in this room, I run down to the kitchen. I hear voices, and know it’s out of bounds. My heart begins to thump desperately. I have minutes, if I’m lucky. My eyes dart around, and I run to the next room that’s open.
I go straight past the single beds—this one has two—and to the drawers. I yank them open, and I begin shuffling through desperately. Come on. Come on. When I find nothing, I stand straight and spin around, only to come crashing into a flabby, big chest. My entire body stiffens, and I lift my face to see an old disgusting pirate, grinning down at me. He’s got thinning grey hair, yellow teeth, and eyes that are a steely blue. He’s awful. My blood runs cold. He’s not giving me an expression that says he wants to hurt me. No, his expression is that of lust.
“Well, well, I heard there was a pretty girl on the ship. What’re you doin’ rummaging through my stuff, poppet?”
I shake my head, stepping back. “I was…I was just…”
“You know how long it’s been since I’ve had a woman?” He grins, showing me rotting teeth.
Oh no.
What was I thinking, trying to run through this ship alone? I take another step back, but he lashes out and grips me. I try to squirm and fight, but my body is so weak. He spins me around, crushing an arm across my chest. Then he presses a knife to my throat. Oh no, please, God, no. Don’t let this happen. No.
“Don’t scream, or I’ll slit it,” he hisses into my ear.
Then his hands lower down over my stomach to my shorts. Everything in my world stops, and my entire body is stiff with fear. I can’t move, even though everything inside me is screaming to fight. His hand slips into my shorts, and tears burn my eyes as his knife presses against my throat. I make a choking sound, and I plead with him to stop.
“Silence,” he orders.
I feel bile rise in my throat as the tips of his fingers skim my panties. My vision begins to blur, and I struggle to find my fight.
When his fingers pull at the elastic of my panties, I find that fight. I drive my elbow backwards suddenly, hitting him in the ribs. He bellows and stumbles, crashing into the drawers beside the bed. The knife drops to the floor, and I lunge for it. I wrap my fingers around it, and just as he goes to charge me I drop low, driving it into his leg. He screams, dropping to the floor. Blood runs from his leg, and the knife tumbles from my grip. I feel the blood drain from my face as I stumble backwards. I just . . . I just . . . stabbed him.
I make a rasping sound, and I hear voices down the hall. I have to get out of here. I can’t do this anymore. I drop to my knees, and the pirate is still rolling and screaming, gripping his leg. I grasp at the gun in his pants, and I pull it free. I push to my feet, and my hands wobble. I point the gun at him, and in a wobbly hiss, I snarl, “Don’t move.” He is still groaning in pain, and I figure he hasn’t acknowledged what I said. Blood is pouring from the deep wound in his leg.
“What the fuck?”
I hear Hendrix’s angry voice, and spin to see him standing at the door, gun out.
“What are you doin’?”
“He tried to…he…he put his hands…”
“What did he do?” he says, his voice hard.
“He tried to rape me,” I whisper.
Hendrix’s fiery gaze turns to the pirate on the ground. “Is that fact?”
“No boss, it’s not…she’s lyin’. She came in here and threw herself at me…”
Hendrix’s face turns stony, and he pulls the trigger on his gun without a second question. I scream as a bullet lands right between the pirate’s eyes. A clean hole appears, and blood begins to flow steadily from the wound. My entire body sways, and I can hear myself crying. I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this. I just want to leave. Why won’t he let me leave? I’m tired. Exhausted. I’m done.
I lift the gun, and I press it to my temple. Hendrix turns, his eyes widen, and he very gently says, “Put that down, girl.”
“What’s the point?” I whisper. “My life is over anyway.”
“It isn’t what you want to do…”
“Isn’t it?” I scream, my hand shaking. “What is it you think I want? To live life as a sex slave? This is the better way.”
Hendrix slowly raises his gun, only to about my thigh height. “Put it down, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“N…n…no.”
I hear a shot fire out, I feel the burning in my thigh, and I feel myself collapse onto the floor. The gun topples from my hand, and skids across the wood. I open my mouth, and nothing except a strangled gurgle comes out. I feel like there is fire spreading up my leg. It burns. I scream, and my hands instantly go to the wound where I feel hot, sticky blood.
Hendrix is there quickly, leaning down, and lifting me into his arms. “It’s only a graze, you’re okay.”
“You shot me,” I bellow, my stomach twisting from the pain.
“I couldn’t let you kill yourself. It isn’t the right way.”
“What would you know about the right way?” I cry.
“More than you think.”
I tremble violently as he carries me down the halls. Everything is spinning, nothing makes sense. Everything in my world has been turned upside down, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I feel sick with fear at the idea that I considered, even for a second, taking my own life. What about Eric? How could I do that to him? How could I be so selfish?
Hendrix takes me to his room, and he lowers me onto the sofa. Then he turns and heads out to the hall, sticking his head out and barking something before turning and coming back into the room. He kneels down, gripping my shorts and tearing them clean off. I scream and squirm, but he doesn’t stop. He lifts a shirt from the ground, and presses it to my leg. The pressure hurts, and I find myself pleading with him to stop.
“I’m saving your leg, stop fighting me.”
“You tried to kill me,” I wail.
I sob, and close my eyes, feeling tears flow down my cheeks. I feel sick inside; I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I’d take three rounds with Kane again over being in this situation.
“I only grazed you. A couple of stitches and you’ll be fine.”
“Why stop me?” I whisper, my voice having given up. “You don’t care about my life. Surely you have other things to sell, just let me have it my way.”
“No,” he says simply.
His fingers glide up my thigh, and for a split second, I forget the pain. He grips the top of my thigh, and turns me so he can get better pressure on my other leg. He doesn’t move his hand when he stops moving me, and my entire body aches. The burning in my other thigh stops me feeling too much, but I don’t stop, not even for a second, feeling that hand on my thigh. Hendrix lifts his head, his eyes meet mine, and something passes between us. I don’t know what it is…maybe it’s understanding? What could Hendrix possibly understand about me?
His finger begins moving in a gentle soothing circle, and he doesn’t move his eyes from mine. My breath hitches, and I struggle to steady out my breathing. Hendrix’s brown eyes scan my face, like he’s looking for something he’s sure he’ll never find. He almost looks desperate. When his eyes fall back on mine, I feel his fingers squeeze my thigh…almost reassuringly. I don’t understand him. I don’t think I ever will.
“Cap?”
Hendrix jerks his hand off my thigh, almost guiltily, and then quickly stands up. He doesn’t meet my gaze again, simply turns to the blond woman standing in the room. “Stitches. She needs about three.”
She turns her gaze to me, and narrows her eyes. She’s big, busty and blond. She’s not ugly by any means, but she’s not stunning either. With a growl, she walks in and over to the sofa. She kneels down, removing the shirt off my thigh and staring down at the wound. “Two should do it.”
