Play Along

by T L Swan

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he fires back.

  I sit back and fake a smile as my eyes hold his. I hesitate for a moment, shocked that he just said that. Shocked that anyone would even say that. “This is why I’m out of your league, but thank you for the reminder.”

  His face drops and he sits back in his seat. I know I’ve got him.

  “Stick to your whores.” I stand and throw my napkin onto the table and walk out of the common room and down the hallway. I feel my heart beating hard. I know he is going to lose his shit, but I can’t make out with him—or should I say pretend to make out with him—knowing full well she is waiting to take her turn after I go to bed. What kind of fucked up situation is this? Why do I even care? It’s seriously pissing me off that I do.

  I know they all share beds, but I can’t even share a kissing partner. I’m just going to stay in the room for the rest of the trip. I’m not doing this to myself again.

  I can’t pretend that this is okay with me. It’s bloody not. I walk down to our door and then I glance up at the metal staircase leading upstairs. I need some fresh air. I head up and out onto the deck. I am greeted by a brilliant light and stare up at the full moon as it lights a blazing line in the water underneath it. The ocean breeze dusts across my face and an instant calm sweeps over me. I inhale deeply and a smile crosses my face. It’s nice up here. The sound of the ocean lapping on the side of the boat is a reminder of just how remote a place on Earth this is. How do these people survive in these conditions for so long?

  I walk over to the side of the ship and stare out over the dark, cold sea. The sound of the ships engine is a drone and I can hear the sea lapping at the sides of the boat.

  Pirates. Modern day pirates. Governed by their own set of rules with nobody to answer to but each other. For a long time, I stare out over the sea as I contemplate how and why the people on this ship live like this. Don’t they miss land? Don’t they miss having their own home, their own man or woman to love?

  My thoughts go to Todd and my confusion returns—different emotions all rolled into one. I miss him. I hate him. I’m glad I found out. I wish I never found out. Part of me knows that they were going to tell me and strive to be together. I stare out over the water. Are they together now?

  How long was it going on?

  I turn around and lean on the side rail and look back over at the shipping containers all lined up in rows. I wonder what exciting places they have been to? The things they have seen. If only they could talk, I’m sure they would have an interesting tale to tell. I stare at the large orange container in front of me. The door has a padlock and there is a number on the top left hand side on the end.

  1230

  A thought crosses my mind and I frown as I look at it. That’s just like…

  I bite my thumbnail as I try to remember. That image of the piece of paper on Mac’s phone had numbers on it. Numbers just like this. I look around to the containers surrounding me.

  1130

  1163

  1145

  I narrow my eyes as I think. I can’t remember what was written next to the numbers. I’m going to have to look at his phone again tomorrow when he goes to work.

  Whose piece of paper was that and why did he take a photo of it? If it was his, he wouldn’t have needed to, he would have had a hard copy.

  Hmm, interesting. I stand for a while longer and with each moment my mind begins to race a little more.

  I walk around in the dark as I stare up at the containers. I run my hand along the hard metal end of a container. There are millions and millions of dollars of drugs on this ship.

  If my suspicions are correct, Mac knows exactly what drugs they are and what shipping containers they are kept in. I look back out over the water as I think.

  And now, unbeknown to him, so do I.

  Holy shit.

  * * *

  Victim of circumstance or has opportunity knocked? The world works in weird ways and if everything that happens has a reason, what is the deeper message behind this?

  Why was I at that nightclub in the middle of nowhere on that particular night?

  Why did I see what I saw?

  Why this particular ship?

  Why him?

  I stare at the wall in the darkness as I troll the universe for answers. Unable to look at his hidden phone because I don’t know when he’s returning, I’m frustrated. Four hours have passed since I left him at the dining room and he hasn’t come looking for me. Maybe he doesn’t care what happens to me anymore. Maybe I was deluding myself that he ever did. Why should I care either way? I lie for what seems like hours in the darkness as I think.

  I hear the key shuffle in the door and I close my eyes and pretend to sleep. He walks in quietly and I feel him stand at the end of the bed for a moment as he watches me. He undresses, goes to the bathroom, and then crawls into bed behind me. I feel my body relax now that he’s home and hopefully I can finally get some sleep. He wraps his large arms around my waist from behind and snuggles into my back. I shouldn’t like the way he feels around me but for some sick reason…

  I do.

  I don’t remember anything else as I drift into slumber.

  * * *

  Mac

  I wake to the feel of my cock straining to break free from my briefs. God, this thing has a mind of its own when I’m this close to her. I glance over to see she’s awake and lying on her side facing me.

  “Hi,” I murmur sleepily.

  “Hello.” She smiles softly.

  Her long, dark, chocolate hair falls around her shoulders and she has that whole just-woke-up-and-I-need-to-be-fucked vibe going on. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my boxer shorts, and I have never seen something so arousing.

  This is why I’m out of your league.

  Her cutting words from last night weigh heavily on my shoulders. She’s right. I have no right to her and she has reminded me of just how long it has been since I have been with a decent woman.

  She watches me intently and I know she has something on her mind.

  “What?” I ask.

  She traces a circle on the sheets underneath us with her pointer finger as she contemplates her next question. “Have you…?” She pauses. “Have you always lived this life?” she asks.

  I stare at her for a moment. “Have I always been… bad, you mean?”

  She nods softly.

  I stare at the ceiling above. “No, I haven’t.” I narrow my eyes as I think for a moment. “Actually I take that back. I have always been like this.”

  She frowns as if not believing me.

  My eyes flicker up to her. “Is this the part where you want me to tell you I’m an undercover cop and I am here to save the world?” I ask.

  A trace of a smile crosses her face. “You’re not a cop?”

  I smile sleepily. This woman kills me. “No.” I shake my head. “Not a cop.”

  “FBI,” she asks, hopefully.

  I smirk. Stop being so damn fucking sexy. “No.”

  “Special Forces.”

  I roll my eyes. “You watch too much fucking television, Rosh.”

  She watches me for a moment as if thinking. “Can I ask you something, Mac?”

  I nod as my eyes drop to her perfect lips. God, what I wouldn’t give to have them around my cock. I get a visual of her naked and kneeling as she goes down on me and I harden even more. I subtly readjust my length under the blankets. “Yes,” I reply distracted by my wayward thoughts.

  “You know how you are getting me a new passport?”

  I frown as I listen. Where is this going? I nod.

  “Can you get me a passport in another name?” she asks.

  “Why?”

  She shrugs as her eyes stay glued at the blankets underneath us.

  I lift my hand and cup her face. “Who you running from, baby?”

  Her eyes rise to meet mine. “Me. I’m running from me.”

  6

  Mac

  The weight of
her words crush my chest like a vice. I stare at her, unable to fathom the idea. “Why would you ever want to run away from you?” I ask.

  She drops her eyes back to the blankets in shame.

  I reach over and rub my thumb over her bottom lip. “You don’t have someone at home waiting for you?” I ask. What’s going on with this girl? Something just doesn’t add up here. I have always thought that she was hiding something. Although scared, she’s nowhere near as terrified as I imagine a woman who has been kidnapped after witnessing a murder would be. She’s learnt how to detach her emotions. Why?

  She shakes her head softly.

  How could that be? “What about your family?” I ask.

  She hesitates for a moment before answering. “My mother died a few years ago and my father is no good.”

  I frown. “Grandparents. Siblings?”

  Standing as if annoyed with my line of questioning. “Can you help me or not?” she snaps.

  I roll my lips as I contemplate her request. “I can if you tell me a few things.”

  Her eyes meet mine. “Like what?”

  “Like, why?” She continues to stare at me but doesn’t answer. “You think you can run away from your problems?”

  “I don’t want to run away. I want to start again.”

  I raise a brow in question. “Starting again on your own would be hard.”

  She shrugs. “What are you going to do? Explain to me what your plans would be.”

  I lie back and put my hands behind my head as I wait for her answer, her eyes glance up to my biceps before she drags them away and I bite my bottom lip to hide my smirk. She can pretend to not want me all she wants. I know her body has other ideas.

  She swallows as she thinks. “I’m going to get off at Puerto Rico and then I thought maybe try to get a job or something.” Her large brown eyes meet mine as she shrugs. “I will work it out.”

  I watch her for a moment. She can’t lie for shit, she already has a plan, I’m sure of it.

  “So, you want to go off the grid. Become invisible, bad even?” I ask sarcastically.

  She smiles sadly. “I think being bad would be easier.”

  “Why is that?”

  “At least I would know what to expect from people.”

  I frown as I watch her. What’s happened to make her like this? My mind immediately goes to the night where we found her at the nightclub and the tears that were streaming down her face as she stumbled out that back ally way door.

  “What do you mean by that?” I ask.

  “Well…” She hesitates as she articulates her thoughts. “If I expect the worst then I will never be disappointed.”

  I raise a brow in question. “The worst?”

  “Lies.” She stands and picks up a towel from the floor.

  I lean up onto my elbow as I watch her. “People lie to you?” I ask.

  “Everyone,” she murmurs as she disappears into the bathroom to discard the towel.

  “That’s not true. I never have,” I call.

  She reappears and leans on the door jamb and smirks. “Yes. You have.”

  “When?”

  “When you told me your name was Mac.”

  I raise my eyebrows. How does she know my name isn’t Mac? “I never introduced myself to you, and why do you think my name isn’t Mac?”

  “Is it?” She smiles sexily with a raised brow.

  I smirk and shake my head. “No.”

  “Thought not.” She bends and picks up my clothes on the floor and starts to rearrange them.

  “Can you just stop cleaning and come and talk to me for a moment?”

  “Nothing to talk about. You either want to help me, or you don’t.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then I will be crippled by student loans and dealing with a jerk of an ex-boyfriend.”

  A smile that I am unable to hide crosses my face.

  “Why are you smiling?” she asks.

  “So, you do have an ex?”

  “Yes.” She smirks. “And this is funny because?”

  I widen my eyes. “Key word ex. You’re a free agent.”

  She looks at me deadpan. “Yes, free except for the small kidnapping being kept against my will by you part.”

  I smile broadly. “Minor detail. Tell me something.”

  Her eyes meet mine and I can tell she’s fighting a smile.

  “If we had met under a different circumstance…”

  “Which we didn’t.”

  “But if we did?”

  “Yes.”

  “If we met say…” I hesitate while I think of a scenario. “At your work, for instance, and I asked you out on a date. Would you have gone out with me?”

  A smile does find her face this time. “Would you have asked me out?” She pauses for a moment. “If you were normal and didn’t like whore bags, I mean.”

  I laugh out loud as I pull her back over me as I grip her two hands in mine. “I am normal.”

  She leans over me and smiles as her hair hangs in my face. “You are not fucking normal and this whole ship from Hell thing you have got going on here is filled with whore bags. Whore bags that you share with your work colleagues.” She fakes a shiver of disgust.

  It would seem weird to the outside world. Truth be known, for the first time since being here, I can’t wait to get back to this cabin every night after work. This beautiful, innocent, fiery woman in my bed is almost too much to bear.

  I want her.

  I want her to want me and I will move Hell to make damn sure that she does.

  I reach up and swipe my fingers through her dark, chocolate hair as she stares down at me. “I’m not interested in the whore bags, Rosh.”

  “What are you interested in?” Her eyes search mine and I have to restrain myself from sitting up and taking her lips in mine. I can’t touch her in the bedroom, I remind myself.

  “You,” I answer immediately. I can’t even pretend that I don’t want her. Regret fills me and I hesitate for a moment. “I wish we had met under different circumstances,” I reply.

  “The point is moot because we didn’t.” She smiles sadly as she pulls out of my grip and stands.

  My face falls at her rejection.

  “So, is that a yes? You will help me?” she asks.

  I lie back and watch her for a moment as I tuck my two hand behinds my head. Why does the thought of being the only person on the planet who knows where she is seem so appealing to me?

  “I can help you disappear,” I reply.

  She smiles a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  I stand and wrap my arms around her from behind, and she turns and leans her head onto my chest. We stand for an extended time in each other’s arms and I wish she didn’t just show me that vulnerable side of her… because now, not only do I have the primal urge to fuck her, I also have the need to protect her. In the situation I am in here in on this ship, I honestly don’t know if I can offer her protection or which sin is the worse evil.

  * * *

  Rosh.

  The door closes behind him as he leaves for work I wait for ten minutes and tap my foot impatiently. I’m itching to get back into his wardrobe. I tiptoe over to the door and open it to peer left down the corridor, and then right. He’s nowhere to be seen. All is silent and the coast is clear.

  Time for business.

  I close the door behind me, lock it, and then grab the chair to lift it over to the wardrobe where I carefully climb up. I stand and peer into the darkness and feel up over my head. My clumsy hand clambers around and I just can’t seem to reach the fake roofing. I stretch farther and nearly fall off the chair.

  Damn it, why can’t I find it today? I found it by accident last time. I jump a little and hit the roof and sure enough, it releases. I push the fake roof up and slide it to the side. I feel around and finally locate the sought after phone. My eyes glance around guiltily and I slide the roofing back into place, close the wardrobe, and put the chair back at the desk. I t
hen take out a pen and paper, lock myself in the bathroom, and take a seat on the floor. I click on images first and go straight to the picture of the attractive girl and the young boy. Is this his family? Who is this girl? I slide across until I get to the photo of the two of them with the young man and I study it for a moment. He has his arm around her and she is leaning her head back onto him. They look like a couple… a family. I swipe through the images once more and then come back to this one again. I frown as I think. No, I am sure they are this other guy’s family… not my Mac’s.

  I roll my eyes in disgust at myself. He’s not my Mac. Oh God. Concentrate, you fucking idiot. I keep going through the images until I get to the one I am looking for. The report.

  * * *

  1267 CCPick up 10thCoffee

  * * *

  1208HPick up after deliveryTea

  * * *

  1190IPick up 14thStatue

  * * *

  1211H Pick up 11thNA

  * * *

  1130CCNon disclosedBook

  * * *

  1140 DMDPick up after deliveryStatue

  * * *

  1289WPPADFlooring

  * * *

  Hmm, what do these mean?

  Okay, so container 1267 has something in coffee. CC…what is CC? I bite my thumbnail for a moment as I contemplate this. I take out my pen and paper and start to copy down the note.

  What the hell is CC?

  Where is Google when I desperately need it?

  Container 1208 has something in tea and the pick up is after delivery. After delivery? Does that mean after we get to Puerto Rico? And what is H?

  H… H… H is for…?

  My eyes widen. Holy fuck. H is heroin. I think for a moment. Shit, CC must be cocaine.

  I put both of my hands over my mouth in shock. Cocaine is hidden in the coffee and heroine is hidden in the tea.

  Crap. This is some serious shit. My heart rate picks up and my eyes flicker around nervously. What if I get caught copying this down?