by Tia Louise
She speaks to her mother in their language, and Ximena gives a short answer.
“She said they are workers. It’s a big ship, and they all work.”
Chewing my lip, I think about this. “It’s a cargo ship,” I say, still thinking.
They must dock here, and the men pay to be with these women. A shudder moves through me as I realize no one probably even knows about these unscheduled stops on unknown islands. It’s inhumane, and no one knows. Only now I know, and I have to stop it. How is the question with no clear answer. Instinctively, I opt for what could be the stupidest thing I’ve done so far.
Pushing through the curtain, I go out to Mako. “Hey!” I say, pulling his arm.
He’s angry when he turns to face me. “Kí?”
I motion to him and me, and then I hold my hands like I’m holding cards. I point around at the women, and I point to my hand. He frowns and he shakes his head no, placing a hand on my face and shoving me backwards.
Stumbling, I manage to regain my footing before I fall on my ass, only now I’m furious. “No!” I say, shaking my head. “Pass!” I say, pointing to my hand again.
His jaw sets, and he reaches out to push me by my face again, but I dodge. He only manages to push my shoulder. I’m right behind him as he grabs the woman I’ve watched a few times from the other house. She begins to wail, and I reach for his other arm, holding him back.
“NO!” I shout. “It’s wrong! It isn’t right!”
The woman he’s taking is crying, and I’m hanging on his arm. I’m not sure this will work, and he starts to shake me off. Finally, he releases the woman, but he isn’t stopping. He steps right into my face and yells in that foreign tongue words I can’t understand. His hand is around my neck, and he walks me backwards to Ximena’s house. I can’t breathe. I grip his hand, stumbling the entire way until he pushes me up against the wall, banging my head against the concrete blocks.
Selena and her mother rush out and take my arms, pulling me away from him and inside the one-room structure. The curtain door swings shut and the shouting and yelling outside resumes. Ximena is speaking rapidly under her breath and Selena is answering her in short, one-word responses.
I’m on my side on the cot, injured again. Pain, debilitating nausea grip me. I’m pregnant, and I can’t risk being seriously injured. Still, the women’s cries tear at my heart. I can’t let them be hurt. Oh, god! I close my eyes as I cover my ears with trembling hands. What can I do?
18
Going Back
Cal
Rowan is on the phone with the American tech company, and I’m sitting across from him with my fingers steepled in front of my lips. Another week is gone. We’re running out of time, and I’ve passed from worried to frantic. We’ve got to find Zelda. We’re a week away from our deadline, and even with Reggie’s help we haven’t been able to locate either the Turkish captain or the mysterious island.
“Is it possible to engage a satellite to search for the island?” He waits, and I’m on pins and needles waiting with him. “How long does something like that take?”
Another long pause. Another eternity.
“We don’t have that much time. Is there a way to move ahead in the line? We’re dealing with a life or death situation. Matters of extreme urgency.”
He listens, and I strain against the minutes. “Thank you, Gil. I’ll be waiting for your call.”
Disconnecting, he turns to me. “We can get the images,” he says, and I’m out of my chair.
“It sounded like you were going to say it was impossible!”
“Using his personal connections would take a month,” my brother says, “But he’s on the board of DigitalGlobe, and they’re going to scan the area where we think she’s being held and send us what they get.”
“How long will that take?” I’m pacing the White Drawing Room, my heart beating fast in my chest.
“They have to turn the satellite. It could be a day or two.”
Exhaling a loud breath, I go to the windows and look out over the gardens. I can’t bear another minute of this intense worry. I can’t bear being without her, without knowing she’s okay. My body aches for hers. I want to hold her in my arms and feel her warmth against my skin. The idea that she might be taken from me forever has me on the brink of desperation.
“Any word after our conversation at Occitan?”
“Still waiting,” he says, walking to stand beside me. Bracing my shoulder, he looks in my eye. “You’ve got to stay strong. We’re so close now. We’re going to find her.”
“With every day that goes by I’m sure I can’t take another one.”
All the stress of these last several weeks is enough to break me. I lean forward, placing my head against the cool glass. “I can’t sleep. I close my eyes, and I see her fighting to get free. The image of her battered face is in my mind, and all I can think is it’s my fault. I should never have let her go alone.”
“We asked for proof of life. If we’re lucky, we might catch a boat headed to one of those uncharted islands on satellite.”
For a moment, I think about this incredible possibility. My mother had the bright idea of using the rat at Occitan to manipulate Wade Paxton into showing his cards.
She went with Rowan and Ava to our family beach estate, and the three of them spent several days arguing over succession and discussing how she plans to fight the referendum. It was all an act, of course. My mother has wanted to retire since before this nightmare began.
Our hope is that her pretend disapproval and resistance to succession will gain us more time with these kidnappers. If Rowan is not the titular leader of our country, he can only fulfill the first ransom demand and possibly the second.
The first was to break his deal with the American tech company, and he made a big show of putting that contract on hold until he’s named King of Monagasco. The second demand was to re-energize our oil holdings with Fayed in Tunis. Rowan is dragging his feet on that one, but still making a show of fulfilling the request.
Turning down the throne, signing the treaty with Totrington, and pardoning Wade Paxton—the final three demands—are all items he can only fulfill as king, and he can’t be king so long as our mother refuses to step down.
We have no idea how these problems are impacting our timetable. Personally, I couldn’t take the silence anymore and went to Occitan yesterday to tell Rowan we needed proof of life. I need to know she’s okay. I need to see her.
It was an impassioned plea. Now we simply have to wait and see if it makes a difference—if we get another photo and if we can tell anything about where it was taken.
Standing in the plush drawing room, I make a decision. “I’m going back to Tortola. They won’t expect me to be back there, and perhaps we’ve been gone long enough that some of these guys might have come out of hiding.”
Rowan presses his lips together. “You’re going alone?”
“I’ll take Logan with me. We need to stay off the grid, under the radar.” Truth is, I can’t stand waiting around here anymore. I’m ready to charter a boat and drive it all over the Caribbean searching for her.
Rowan doesn’t try to stop me, he only nods. “I can’t imagine the level of stress you must be feeling. If it were Ava…”
“Just keep her safe. Zelda will be worried about her, and I want to be able to tell her Ava is safe when I find her.”
“Who are you telling I’m safe?” Ava enters the room quickly. She’s dressed in a sheer black dress that swirls around her body, and my brother’s eyes track her as she moves.
“Cal is going to Tortola.”
She turns quickly, sapphire eyes on me. “I want to go with you.”
“I-I can’t.” My eyes move to Rowan. I can’t tell her no. I know she’s as worried about her sister as I am. We’re all coming apart with the helplessness of this situation.
“You have to take me with you.” Tears fill her eyes. “I can’t stand sitting here waiting anymore, Cal!”
/> Rowan steps up behind her, sliding a large hand around her waist and pulling her back to his chest. “He needs to go alone.” His deep voice seems to calm her. “He’s less likely to be caught, and he can move quicker, perhaps uncover something we missed the first time.”
He manages to talk her down, but I see the worry full in her eyes. “I promise,” I say, squeezing her hand, “If I learn anything—anything—you’ll be the first to know.”
Looking down, she nods. “Not like that tooth situation?”
With a wince, I shake my head. We finally told her about the piece of Zelda, and she handled it far better than I expected. She took it better than me.
“I won’t hold information back from you again,” I promise.
A little smile, and I’m out the door. I don’t even pack. Touching the face of my smart watch, I alert Logan to meet me at the airport. The faster we move, the more likely we’ll catch someone off-guard.
19
Proof of Life
Zelda
It’s a typical, nameless day when everything about my situation changes. I’ve lost track of time, but I’ve been trying to rest more. Ximena took a chance and sent a note to school with Selena saying we needed extra milk. We haven’t said a word to any of the other women or to Mako about my pregnancy. I don’t know if it will put me at more risk or less if they know I’m expecting a royal baby.
Now when Selena comes home from school, she has a little box of milk in her bag along with her pencil and notebook. We’ve been doing this for five days when that Tuesday comes.
I’m sitting on the floor and Ximena is behind me on the cot braiding my hair. It’s growing hotter by the day, and we’re in this landlocked location. My mind drifts to the beautiful baths I found down the dirt path away from this camp.
I wish we could go there, but if we’re caught, it would be a very bad thing for Ximena. It wouldn’t be good for me, but at least I’m protected from the true horrors of this island—for now.
We haven’t heard another word about passes, and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t have one, judging by how angry Mako was at me winning that round of blackjack. I haven’t been able to get him to play me again. Every time he comes to the area, he doesn’t look at me. He acts like I’m not even here.
Today ends that arrangement. The curtain over the door flies open, and I jerk back against the cot. Ximena pulls her legs up and gasps. Mako glares at her then glares at me.
“Bini ku mi,” he says, reaching down and grasping my arm.
I’m on my feet and being dragged out the door with Ximena right behind us speaking quickly in their language. I think she’s asking him what he’s doing. I’m slowly picking up bits of their language.
We’re out in the yard when my heart slams to the pit of my stomach. Fear races through my veins like electricity, and I fall behind Mako, even though I know he’d throw me in front of a train as soon as help me.
“What the fuck?” Blix is standing in the yard beside that Jeep-truck hybrid vehicle. He charges across the space to where Mako is holding me and pulls me out of his grip.
Turning me to the side, he smooths his hand over my stomach, then he turns to Mako. “Did you fuck her?” he shouts, and the man only holds up his hands and shakes his head.
“Can’t you see she’s clearly pregnant?”
I’m stunned he knows right away. We don’t have full-length mirrors here. I’ve only been able to see my face in Selena’s little hand mirror since I came here. Considering I just put the pieces together, I wonder what I look like to someone who hasn’t seen me in four weeks. I wonder what I’ll look like to Cal.
Blix speaks to me, which is a surprise, in view of his “never make me speak to you again” policy. “Are you pregnant?”
My heart is beating hard in my chest. I don’t know the correct answer to this question. I could lie and say I’ve merely been eating heavily and not moving, but I don’t know the consequences of lying to this man. I have to think about my baby now. I can’t be as reckless as I was when I was just Zelda Wilder.
“ANSWER ME!” he shouts getting right in my face.
Dropping my head, I look down at the sack dress I’ve been wearing. It’s tight around my stomach but hangs on my arms and shoulders. I suppose my condition is obvious.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
He exhales loudly and pulls a phone from his pocket. I watch as he dials, pacing back and forth in front of me. At once he begins speaking rapidly in what sounds like German into the phone. His dead blue eyes are trained on me, and I look up at him. He has a cruel face. He makes me think of people who like to torture their victims. He makes me think of little boys who catch birds so they can kill them. He makes me think of every evil person I’ve ever known.
“Is it the Prince’s baby?” he asks with no smile, no emotion.
My insides are racing. Will they hurt me if it’s Cal’s baby? Will they use this for something even worse than whatever made them kidnap me initially? I don’t answer right away. I’ve learned in my gambling jobs sometimes it’s better to wait and see if the person asking a question will answer it for himself.
Blix is not one of those people. When I don’t answer his eyes flash and he crosses the space to grab my arm. “Are you deaf as well as stupid?”
He’s holding me so hard, I let out a little cry of pain. “No,” I say, struggling for breath.
My brain is screaming. This is the same guy who threw me on the ground. I have to protect my baby from this guy.
“Then answer me, bitch,” he hisses in my face. “Is this the prince’s baby?”
Oh, god, I mentally pray before nodding slowly. His grip tightens and the scariest, most evil smile spreads across his face. Tears spring to my eyes, I’m so afraid. He returns to speaking on the phone, but his terrifying eyes are still on me.
Disconnecting, he takes my arm again and drags me to the side of our cinderblock house. It’s the white wall with nothing on it. Reaching in his back pocket he pulls out a newspaper.
“Hold this up,” he orders.
I look at the cover. The date is July 5, and for a moment I think of home, America, grilling and fireworks on the fourth of July. I didn’t even know what day it was. A large hand reaches to the nape of my neck and jerks my hair.
“I said hold it up!” Blix is glaring at me, and I turn the USA Today around and hold it just under my chin.
His phone clicks several times and then he snatches it back. I don’t even get to look at the headlines. My mind is thinking one word: Cal. I need to see him. I want to tell him about the baby. I don’t want him to find out this way.
Blix goes to his truck and digs around in the cab before returning with a small Coke bottle. “Pee in this,” he says, shoving it at me.
I hold the dirty bottle out and look at it. “Should I wash it first?”
“No,” he says. “Piss in that bottle so I can get the hell out of here.”
Despair fills my chest. As much as I hate Blix, his awful presence is at least evidence the outside world still exists. People are out there asking about me. Cal is still searching for me. The thought floods tears in my eyes. If only there were some way to send him a message. I miss him so much. Every night I dream about his arms, and every day I long for his touch. When I’m feeling very low, I fear I’ll never see him again.
Taking the dirty bottle, I go around the corner and pull up the cloth dress. It’s difficult but I manage to get an inch of urine in that small bottle. When I give it to Blix, he uses a napkin to hold it as if it’s covered in germs.
Without a word, he goes to his truck and leaves. I’m standing in the courtyard watching him go with only Ximena by my side holding my hand.
20
A Message
Cal
The G650 is waiting when I arrive at the airport. Logan has texted he’s onboard and in the cockpit chatting with our pilot. Hajib lets me out at the tarmac, and just before I go, he touches my shoulder.
“Good luck
, sir.”
I cover his thick hand with mine and give it a firm squeeze. “Thanks, Hajib.”
“No Odd Job?” he says with a smile.
“Reggie suggested we might be offending you with our old nickname.” I say, feeling the need to send good Karma ahead of me.
“It always made me laugh, sir. No offense taken.”
Pressing my lips into a smile, I nod. “I’m glad to hear it. We never meant any harm.”
“I’ll be glad to see Miss Wilder again.”
My stomach tightens. Anxiety has become my constant companion. “Me, too.”
With a fortifying breath, I jog across the space separating the town car from the gleaming silver private jet and up the short flight of stairs. Our flight attendant is waiting when I arrive.
“We’re all onboard, your majesty,” she says. “As soon as you choose a seat we’ll prepare to leave.”
“Thanks,” I say, ducking inside the aircraft and planning to sit in the first open spot.
I stop in place when I see my uncle already at a window seat with a glass of champagne in front of him.
“Reggie!” I hesitate before going forward. “What are you doing here?”
“Your brother told me where you were going. I’m coming with you.”
My brow lines and I walk quickly down the row and take the chair directly across from him. “Rowan told you where I’m going?”
“He said you’re flying to Tortola. I hope you don’t mind I changed your flight plans. We need to stop in Miami first.”
Gripping the arm of my seat, I lean forward. “What happened? What do you know?”
“It seems the criminal is returning to the scene of the crime.”
He pauses for a sip of wine, and I barely manage a calm, “Please continue.”
“Ronald Delahousse in Miami heard about a man with an exaggerated southern accent working roulette wheels on the cruise circuit. I’m willing to bet it’s Mr. Hines.”
