by Dori Lavelle
I didn’t even hear the helicopter or the door of my cabin opening. He had clearly meant to surprise me. It worked.
He doesn’t say anything as he sits down next to me on the bed, places a hand on my body and just keeps it there for a long time. Through the rush of blood in my ears, I can hear the ticking of his wristwatch. With each second, it becomes harder and harder for me to breathe.
Does he know? Is he waiting for me to confess?
How naïve I was to think there were no cameras on the yacht. It was all a trap. He allowed me to be free so that he could catch me doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing, giving him a reason to punish me.
What kind of punishment would I get for betraying him with his mother? What kind of punishment would she get?
I swallow hard but don’t look away, afraid he would read it as a sign of guilt.
He moves his hand to my chest, at the place where my heart is located.
I hold my breath, willing my heart to stop fighting in case he can feel it.
“Are you nervous about something?” he asks.
I wet my lips. “No, why?”
“I know you inside and out. I know the sound of your heartbeat. I know when it beats out of love. I know when it beats out of fear.” He lifts his hand. “So what is it, Emma? Is it fear or is it love?”
“It’s just that . . .You surprised me, that’s all.”
“Why? Didn’t you think I would return?”
“Of course, I did. I just didn’t hear you coming in.”
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
“No.” I’m guessing he knows about me and his mother, but he will not hear the words from my lips. I’m keeping my promise to Faith. There’s still a chance he’s just testing me to see if I will admit to doing something.
Maybe he doesn’t even know anything. Unless he can tell me straight out what I did wrong, I’ll not say a word. Hopefully Faith didn’t decide to suddenly come clean.
“I have a feeling you’re lying to me.” He lifts the candle towards my face. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“No, Dax. I’m not lying to you.”
“That’s a relief.” He lifts up the candle. “Now, how about we go and play a hot little game?” He stands from the bed. “First, I want you to take your clothes off.”
It always makes me want to laugh out loud when he tells me to take off my clothes because I have barely any clothes to remove.
Since I don’t want to rock the boat, and I have a feeling he’s in a crappy mood, I do as he says. It will soon be over. I’ll make it through a few minutes of sex with him. He’ll hopefully leave me alone for the rest of the night. On some occasions he likes to have me several times a night, until I’m so raw I cannot take it anymore.
When I’m standing naked in front of him, he tightens his hand around my wrist and escorts me out of the cabin.
He switches on all the lights in the hallways as we walk through them. When I discover that we’re headed in the direction of the dungeon, I start to dig my heels in.
“Don’t fuck with me, darling. I’m not in the best mood today.”
I start walking immediately because I know resisting would only be delaying the inevitable.
This time, there’s no one else in the dungeon, just us. As soon as we enter, he puts down the candle on a small table, his hand still around my wrist.
While my skin is prickling with fear, he leads me to the pole. I fight him again as he tries to handcuff my hands around it.
As usual, he wins. Defeated, I sink to the bottom of the pole, my arms hugging the cool metal.
“I’m really disappointed in you, Emma. You just don’t listen, do you? When are you going to realize that you’re no match for me?”
He moves to the table to pick up the candle he’d been carrying before. The light is on. Why does he need a candle?
It doesn’t take long for me to get my answer.
“This might hurt,” he says. He lifts the candle and tips it a little. A few drops of hot wax pour from it. It lands on my scalp and drips down my face on its way to the rest of my body. More liquid wax follows. Some of it lands on my back, some on my thighs and my stomach. I hiss and groan each time a fresh drop comes into contact with my skin.
Once the candle is empty of liquid fire, he blows out the flame and drops it to the floor next to me. He walks out of the cabin without giving me a reason for my punishment. He does not remove the handcuffs. He simply walks away, leaving me aching and humiliated, wishing I were dead instead of being subjected to this terror.
Tears are trickling down my cheeks when Otto enters the cabin minutes after Dax left. Dax probably sent him to get me.
The guard watches me for a few seconds then takes a step toward me. When he removes the handcuffs and pulls me to my feet, he’s gentle.
Before we leave the dungeon, with me leaning against him, still sobbing, he whispers something to me.
“I will help you. Give me a few days.”
As soon as my mind registers his words, I forget the discomfort on my skin and the pain in my heart.
Otto returns me to my cabin, where I do my best to remove the dry wax from my skin, relieved to see that even though the wax was hot on impact, there’s only a little redness to show for it. Nothing that won’t heal by morning.
I don’t think Dax knows about me and his mother. If he did, he would have done worse than pouring candle wax on my skin. He would have sent a bullet straight to my heart. Like he said earlier, he was having a bad day and he decided to take it out on me. I need this to be over.
When I close my eyes to sleep, praying Dax will not show up again, it’s comforting to know that I’m not alone. Soon I will be stepping off this yacht and out of Dax’s life forever.
Chapter Seventeen
As soon as Dax leaves my cabin—not long after breakfast—I drop in front of the toilet bowl and throw up. I cannot seem to keep anything in these days. I feel sick to my stomach all the time.
Even though Otto gave me a bit of hope when he offered me his help, nothing has happened yet.
I don’t blame him for not doing anything. Dax has not left the yacht for four days now. Every morning after he has sex with me, I’m desperately waiting for him to tell me that he will leave for a couple of hours. But one day comes and one day goes and he’s still here, still pretending we have a marriage, lingering in the shadows, pouncing on me when he’s in a bad mood.
The morning after he dripped hot wax on my body, I managed to ask Otto if there are any cameras on the yacht. I was relieved to hear they are none unless, of course, he lied. But why would he?
The explanation for Dax’s candle wax punishment could simply be because he loves to see me in pain.
I was relieved that he didn’t find out that I was talking to Faith. It’s still terrifying to know that he can hurt me at any moment for no reason at all. I live every day wishing it would all go away, that Otto will do something before Dax kills me.
I can’t stop thinking that something was different about Dax when he came into the cabin earlier for sex and breakfast.
When I’d observed him from across the table, I noticed that something was off. He was quieter than usual, and his face was pale, his eyes blank.
The moment I sink onto the bed, still wondering about him, I jump up again and rush back to the toilet. As soon as my knees hit the floor, a terrifying thought chills my spine. My period. When was my last period?
I have no idea what the date is, but it feels like a lot of days have passed—a week or two even—since the day my period was due.
I retch into the bowl until my stomach is empty, then sit back on the floor, my arms hugging my knees. I’m pretty sure I’ve missed my period. That has never happened to me before. It can only mean one thing. I don’t want it to be true, but what good would burying my head in the sand do?
Tears spring to my eyes and I glance behind me at the glass wall. No one is there. Thank God the guards stay
away during the day. I need time to process this turn of events before Dax finds out. He cannot find out.
But what I don’t understand is how it happened. Dax had been using condoms every single time we had sex. But we’ve had sex so many times. What if one of the condoms ripped?
I cannot even start to imagine having his child. If that happens, I will forever be reminded of him. Every time I look my child in the eye, I would see the man that destroyed my life.
I was actually relieved when he said he didn’t want us to have kids. A monster like him does not deserve to have a child. But what would he do to me if he finds out I’m pregnant?
As my world spins, my determination grows. Now that a baby might be growing inside me, I really need to find a way to get off the yacht, to get far away from this toxic environment so I can decide with a clear mind what to do about this pregnancy, if that’s really what it is.
There could be an explanation. There’s a chance I’m late simply because I’ve been going through a lot of stress. But deep down inside, I know I’m wrong. In a weird way, I already feel pregnant.
Dax leaves me alone for the rest of the day, which is always a gift. Especially today when I have a lot on my mind, decisions I need to make but don’t know where to start.
I’m still lost and confused when he returns to my cabin in the morning, dressed in a rumpled shirt, his beard unshaven, his eyes still blank. He looks like a different person. Something is clearly troubling him.
Thank God I threw up before he came into the cabin and I don’t feel the urge to do it again.
He comes to the bed and hovers over me, gazing at me as though he can see right through me into my deepest thoughts. As though he knows what I’m hiding inside my belly.
I have no idea whether the baby was conceived on this yacht or before he kidnapped me.
“Morning,” I mumble to break the tension in the room.
“Have you had breakfast?” he asks, ignoring my greeting. He goes to the glass wall, and stands there, gazing out, his hands in his pockets.
“No,” I say. I’m about to tell him I’m not hungry, then my hand moves to my stomach. I can’t refuse food, in case I’m really carrying a baby and I decide later to keep it.
Dax turns away from the window and stares at me again. Then he steps out the door and comes back with Karl behind him, a tray of food in his hands. We both settle down at the table to eat.
“Is something wrong?” Dax places both palms of his hands on the table as though he’s just about to push himself to a standing position. “Something you want to tell me?”
The blood drains from my face but I remind myself that Otto confirmed that there are no cameras on the yacht.
I reach for a piece of buttered bread. “No.”
“Then why are you acting so strange?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Emma, I know you more than anyone. You’ve not been yourself for a while.”
He’s such a jerk. How does he expect me to be myself when he’s holding me hostage?
“Yes, Dax, I have not been myself for days now.” My nostrils flare as my anger boils over. My mind tells me to stop talking, but my mouth just keeps going. “Are you actually surprised? You kidnapped me. You’re holding me hostage.” I force myself to stop talking, biting into a croissant to occupy my mouth. I wait for him to explode.
And he does. With a guttural roar, he grips the edge of the table and flips it over. It crashes on the floor along with our breakfast.
Suddenly, he’s standing over me, his hands on both sides of my chair. “When is this going to stop? When is it going to sink in that I’m not holding you hostage? You are my wife. We got married. You said yes.”
“At gunpoint,” I shoot back. “You made me marry you at gunpoint. That doesn’t count.”
His face darkens and his lips tremble as he says the next words. “In case you forgot, you accepted my proposal of marriage. No one forced you to make that commitment.” He licks his lips. “We’re married now. It’s about time you start acting like my wife.”
Furious, I throw the croissant to the floor. “What kind of husband are you anyway? What kind of loving husband hurts his wife?” I know I’m walking straight into the flames of hell, but I can’t stop myself from saying the words that burn holes into my heart. “You hurt me every chance you get. You hurt me just because you can. You get off on my fear. No, Dax.” I shake my head. “This is not a marriage. It’s a damn joke.”
I try not to jump when he slams a fist on the armrest of my chair. “You ungrateful bitch.” As his saliva hits my face with each word, I expect him to strike me with a firm hand. But he paces around the room, stepping on food and drink.
Now I know what’s going on with him. He’s coming undone, clearly depressed. His demons are catching up with him. Keeping a hostage can’t be easy.
Feeling like throwing up again, but forcing down the bile, I lift myself from the seat and walk carefully to the bed, while he continues to pace like a mad person.
Finally, without saying another word to me, he stomps out of the room. Everything shakes when he slams the door. A few minutes after he’s gone, Faith and Karl show up to clean the mess he made.
As Faith gets to her knees to start cleaning, I watch her tears spill onto the floor. In my simmering rage, I’m finding it hard to feel sorry for her right now. She could’ve prevented this. She could’ve protected him against his father. She could have at least tried.
Once the floor is sparkling clean and Karl leaves the room, Faith turns to me on her way to the door. “I’m so, so sorry,” she mouths and disappears through the door.
I turn away from her and notice Otto on the other side of the glass. Have the rules changed? Has Dax changed his mind about my being watched during the day?
As I watch him, tears clouding my eyes, he lifts one finger and winks.
It’s a message. God, let it be a message. I hope that one finger means we will be escaping in one day.
Something has to happen. I cannot even start to imagine what would become of me if he doesn’t help me.
The weight of depression forces me to the floor next to my bed, where I wrap my arms around my knees and rock back and forth, tears dripping onto my skin as I think of everything I could lose. Everything I have already lost.
Once upon a time I was a strong woman. I knew what I wanted, and I was not afraid to go out and get it. I never thought that going after what I wanted would lead me to giving it all up.
I don’t know how I fall asleep, but I do, right there on the floor. And I dream of myself holding a baby in my arms. I wake up drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as I drag myself onto the bed.
I refuse lunch or any type of snacks for the rest of the day. I’m too depressed to keep anything in, not even thoughts of a possible pregnancy can convince me to eat, not this time. Dax only shows up once to tell me I’m no longer allowed to leave the room. But I can’t bring myself to care.
When night falls, the music I heard on the first night I slept on this yacht returns. My punishment for crossing the line today.
I pray Otto will be able to help me before I pay the highest price of all. It’s game over.
Chapter Eighteen
A touch and a whisper in the dark pull me from the depths of sleep.
“It’s time,” a man says. “Let’s go.” His breath smells of mint and cigarettes.
I open my eyes to see Otto standing over me, holding a flashlight. I rub my eyes as the light spills onto my face. “Hurry up.”
With adrenaline pumping through my veins, I don’t hesitate. This could be my only chance out of here. I have to go with him. There’s no time to think, to be afraid, to stumble.
It could all go wrong tonight, and Dax could catch us, but there’s also a chance it could go right, and I will become a free woman.
It’s a good thing Dax didn’t spend the night.
As soon as I slide out of the bed, Otto takes my arm.
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br /> I step away from the bed, hoping it’s for the last time. On the other side of the sheet of glass is the other guard. Does he see what’s going on? Do they have some kind of arrangement?
Otto doesn’t seem worried as his hand tightens around my arm and pulls me out of the room. He has his hands on me. That alone could get him killed. Why is he putting his life at risk for a girl he doesn’t even know?
The door closes softly behind us and clicks shut.
“Are you really sure there are no cameras here?” I whisper, sweat pushing out of my palms.
“No, don’t worry. No one is watching.”
“Okay.” My head still thick with sleep, I hurry with him down the hallway, then I come to a screeching halt.
What if this is a trap? What if he’s taking me straight to Dax? What if Otto’s offer to help me is just another one of Dax’s games?
“What is it? We have to go now.”
I look at Otto, wishing desperately that I could trust him.
“What if Dax comes after us?”
“He’s in a deep sleep. I put pills in his drink.” He glances behind him. “You want to get out of here or not?”
I nod and take the next step, walking faster this time, overcome with gratitude for everything he’s doing for me.
My mind is filled with so much fear that I don’t register much of what happens in the time it takes us to get to the dinghy that will take us to the mainland.
At first glance, I wonder if the boat is strong enough to carry us across the ocean. It looks so small. I guess it’s because I’m comparing it to the massive yacht.
Otto notices my hesitation and places a hand on my shoulder. “This dinghy is not as weak as it looks. And the outboard motor is powerful enough to get us to shore.”
Air rushes out of my lungs. “Thank you, Otto.” I allow him to help me into the small boat.
We start to float away from the yacht, relying on the water to carry us far enough before Otto starts the engine.
As soon as he does, my chin hits my chest. I almost crumple with relief.
