CAPTURE — Wrecked Innocent (The Billionaires Club Book 5)

by Q. Zayne

  “Wonderful. I’m hoping you’re up to playing a role in what I do here. The billionaires club is exclusive to billionaires and I provide special entertainment. As you might imagine, we have eclectic, exacting tastes, given that we can do just about anything for fun.” He grinned.

  I didn’t like his smile so much.

  “I see.” I didn’t see, but I wanted him to keep talking. The tension in his face and powerful body clued me in that this was a topic of great gravity.

  “To be honest, I need you, Angie. You’re fresh, beautiful, smart, strong and have a mind keyed in to choosing effective strategies. Those are wonderful qualities, qualities that improve the quality of the entertainment I offer the members of the club.” He looked down at his big hands. He had clean, even, buffed nails.

  Seagulls called, circling the beach. On the massive rock offshore, cormorants stretched their wings in the sun. The soft ripples and small white caps made me homesick for The Chameleon.

  “You need me.” I had no idea where this was going.

  The lines radiating around his compelling eyes got deeper as he squinted out to sea.

  “Yes, you’re perfect for a special entertainment I want to offer to the club members.” He looked like he was about to rub his hands together. He sipped his coffee instead, and licked his lips.

  “What kind of entertainment?” It would be appropriate to help my host if I could, but the time pressure kept me on edge and my intuition had me on high-alert. I doubted I wanted any part in any entertainment Gabe wanted to present to his jaded, ‘exacting,’ billionaires.

  “Your boat’s in sad shape.”

  I jolted in my seat, jarred by his reference to my wrecked craft.

  “Yes.” I wasn’t giving him anything until he came out with what he wanted from me.

  “I can help you. Your boat will take too long to repair. But if you help me, I’ll help you. All I want in return is for you to entertain my guests.” He spread his hands and smiled as though this was the most simple, civilized request in the world.

  I got a distinct used-car salesman vibe. If I had hackles, they’d be up high as they could go. Whatever hackles were. I eyed him as though he was a snake on my path about to strike. Hell, I didn’t want to think about his huge trouser snake. But my boat. I had to have my boat seaworthy. It didn’t take a genius or a freaking over-privileged power-heady billionaire to see that The Chameleon needed more than a quick patch job.

  “What does this help entail?” My voice came out tight. My pussy ached. My heart ached, too. A sinking disappointment in Gabe settled in my stomach. He’d offered me refuge and it turned out I might be mired in an unknown Bermuda Triangle. If I disappeared, no one would find me. Ever. My chest hitched. I couldn’t do that to Dad. I had to get through this, get out of here, and sail the rest of the way around the world back to Santa Cruz. I could feel Dad’s arms hugging me tight, welcoming me back. I held onto that, my eyes stinging with tears I could shed.

  “So, if you agree to help me, I give you a head start and you go out in the jungle and evade everyone.” He paused.“They hunt you. They enjoy the chase.” His smile showed all his teeth. “Your goal is to keep from getting caught. The billionaires will fan out and track you. Their goal is to catch you. Of course, if they catch you, the winner or winners will have some fun.”

  “Fun.” I didn’t believe this. My world tilted. Gabe’s idea of fun for a shipwreck survivor was as much of a shock as my trusty boat dropping me in the sea and getting gashed to unseaworthiness on his island’s sharp teeth. Maybe like a Gothic villain, Gabe enjoyed having a girl in his power.

  “It’s a game.” Gabe cocked his head and assessed me with those deep, blue-green eyes. This time, I didn’t melt.

  “It sounds totally creepy.” I didn’t want to offend the guy, but this was some sick stuff.

  Not that I didn’t know that a lot of guys hung out near where me and my friends played beach volley ball to watch us bounce. Yeah, men are dogs, I get it. What else was new? Well, this was new. Pervy rich guys seeking to hire a girl to be ‘prey’ in their hunting game. That sounded beyond creepy and right into disgusting. Like some exploitation horror flick from the 80s. Weren’t we supposed to evolve as a species?

  “I promise no harm will come to you. It’s all in play.”

  My face tightened and I breathed way up in my shoulders, little sips of air, the way I did when we got the news Mom died my last year of high school. She left us when I was seven to live with her skydiving instructor. Still, it shocked me to hear she died. Her car hit the center divide in the blood alley part of Highway 17 where it snakes through the Santa Cruz mountains. Over and done. We didn’t go to the funeral. We didn’t want to see adulterous sky diving guy. She never came back to visit, so why say good bye to her corpse? I got puking drunk at prom and did my best to forget she ever existed. But I didn’t let my pawing date fuck me, and I still hadn’t done it. Except for what Eustace the dirty doctor did. And he didn’t bust my cherry, so even though it amazed me to watch him fuck my hole with the tip of his thick cock, technically, I remained a virgin. Hymen intact. Check. For centuries that was a huge big deal, and remained so in some places. Maybe it mattered most to sex traffickers, marriage brokers and guys obsessed with being a girl’s first fuck. How much did it matter to me, in the face of a chance to save Dad’s life? Fun. Right.

  “Are you alright, Angie? I realize this may sound extreme. We have the means to arrange any kind of recreations we want. I suppose some of us are jaded. Here on my island, we’re out of the public eye. There’s no surveillance, no reporters, no paparazzi. We get to hang loose, have fun.” He had the grin of a boy opening the birthday present from his favorite grandpa. “I take pride in giving the club members special fun.” His expression turned serious. “Everyone on the island is screened and tested regularly by Eustace. My security staff monitors every aspect of the game. I make it safe for you, of course.”

  Hard not to believe him when I looked into those stunning eyes of his. I kept my eyes above his waist. I did not want to know what was going on downstairs while he talked to me about his dirty game. I saw the outline of his trouser snake at first sight and I’m sure it wouldn’t look any smaller at further glances. Oh, drat, I peeked.

  “…it is rigorous.”

  I seemed to have missed something he said. “What?”

  “The capture game. It requires, running, hiding — doing everything you can to evade capture. As a seafaring adventurer, I think you’ll be ideal.”

  “Ideal prey.”

  He gave me a broad smile reminiscent of the big, bad wolf of story books. “Yes, you’ve already demonstrated your resourcefulness. You tethered your boat, wedged the anchor, scavenged supplies, got out of reach of the waves, found a stream and followed it. You’re well-suited to the game. You might even outwit us all.”

  I didn’t bother to point out that the odds were always stacked in the house’s favor. Might as well let him think I was a fool, in case by any stretch of the imagination I might take his crazy offer. And was he super observant, or had he been watching every move I made via a surveillance network? No doubt a billionaire with a private island had serious security. I blushed, imagining him watching me climbing the rocks in my wet clothes and when I squatted in the jungle. He mystified me, seeming at one moment the elegant host, at the next, a possibly crazy pervert.

  “Why, aside from being stranded — in which case this proposition isn’t gentlemanly — why would I agree to do this?”

  “Because of the prize.” He beamed and bounced on his toe tips. His snake shimmied on his thigh.

  “The prize.” I said it in a flat voice as though I couldn’t possibly be interested. But these were freaking billionaires and something told me Gabe’s morals had a lot of elasticity. He was a guy who’d aim low to gain an advantage.

  “Yes. A prize for participating. You don’t even have to win. You play, I give you a boat. A handsome reward for your help: a new boat. A boat mor
e advanced than anything on the market.”

  “A boat.” It came out like a croak. He shoots, he scores. If he had offered me jewels, travel, a car, a space-age phone, whatever, no deal. I didn’t care about rich people’s trappings. But he had to go right to the heart of my dream and offer me the one thing I couldn’t live without. A boat could get me off the island on my own, and back on my quest. If fortune’s scales tilted and gave me a saving wind, I might still make the world’s record. I might be able to save my father’s life. Thinking of Dad, I got too choked up to speak.

  “A boat beyond other boats. It’s a prototype we’re developing. The fastest sailing craft on all the seas. It would be marvelous to give you one and follow your journey, document your maiden voyage — from a discreet distance, of course.” He rocked back on his heels.

  I looked at him the way I’d check out a rattler for signs it meant to strike. When we met, he said he didn’t bite. But he did. He got me in the tender parts. It was too late.

  Maiden voyage on the fleetest sailboat in the world. What wouldn’t I give for that? I took a breath and made myself think. I wouldn’t kill for it. Short of that? I couldn’t think of a thing.

  “Tell me about this boat,” I said. “How soon could I have it?”

  In a dark lair with banks of monitors showing images of beaches and paths that were no doubt strategic locations all over his island, Gabe motioned me to a chair. The chairs in the room looked like furniture from a science fiction movie, the swiveling thrones of a starship captain and his crew on the bridge of a flagship. I sat and the chair molded to my ass in a shockingly intimate and sensual way.

  Gabe grinned at me and took the seat next to mine. He swiveled in it like a boy, his face alight. He brought up an image on the screen. An arrowhead-shaped craft at anchor. She drew my eyes, black as a starless night and the paint job gave an impression of waves in motion all over her, glistening with a red tide glow. An orchid racing strip ran from prow to stern. My heart stopped.

  She filled the screen: with such sleek lines, she looked more like a space craft than a boat. Beyond aerodynamic, she seemed poised on the waves to take off for the stars. I’d step aboard and feel like I needed a skin tight cat-suit giving me camel toe and thigh-high dominatrix boots to captain her.

  “Exquisite, isn’t she?”

  I couldn’t talk. I swallowed the toad clawing at my throat. I nodded, my hair falling in a curtain over my lust-crazed face. I needed the shield of my hair. This was a private moment between me and her, no boys allowed.

  That wasn’t a boat it was a — a craft out of a science fiction film from decades in the future.

  His fingers danced on the keys. He started an animation sequence that demonstrated how the sails and navigation system worked.

  I salivated. She was the most stunning thing I’d ever seen in my life. She could take me anywhere — in record breaking time. I had to have her. Yes, I was going lesbian over a boat. Or bi, Gabe still looked damned fine, the sadistic bastard.

  She could be my weapon, my way out, the means to achieve my heart’s desires. Her arrow tip shape inspired me. I’d name her Amazon for the fierce archer warriors that bested men and taught them fear that lasted for centuries.

  “Are you ready to see her?”

  “See her?”

  “Your new boat. I had her delivered. You’re watching live footage from where she’s moored. I figured if you don’t want her, I’ll use her.”

  My heart fluttered. No, you won’t.

  I felt a rush of possessiveness over the craft and I hadn’t even seen it in person yet. A boat, I had to have a boat. At that point, I would have tried to sail damned near anything! But Gabe’s description and the teaser demonstration filled me with longing. Not only might I beat the speed record for a solo trip around the world, I’d be the first to do so in the most advanced craft on the planet. I’d make history. I couldn’t help it, I wanted to make history. Ever since I was in elementary school, sprawled on the floor leafing through the big book of world records. I wanted to get in there. Gabe offered the way to do it. Without his help, my dream was sunk. Well, sunk until I could raise the money to replace my boat. And by then, Dad might be dead. Would be dead. I’d interrogated all his specialists. They seemed to respect that I wanted the truth, not a palatable best-case scenario. Most people with cancer didn’t get the happy outcomes shown in TV commercials. And TV rarely showed the day to day horrors of living with the disease. I blinked hard, regaining control. For Gabe, the new boat was nothing, another thing among his many things. To me, she was everything.

  And there’d be companies all over the world who’d want to sign me for product endorsements and take my picture aboard that beauty. The key selling point, that I looked closer to the model ideal for product-pushing due to being wasted thin, hadn’t escaped me. I’d pose my skeleton in a micro-bikini and hawk anything. Hell yes, I was willing to use my new mass-market-acceptable sex appeal edge for all the money I could get. Dad’s life depended on it.

  “All right, I’ll look.” I tried to sound grudging, but I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice.

  He led me through jungle pathways to the beach. I caught my first glimpse of her and sprinted to close the distance. I ran my hand over her sleek prow. She sparkled in the sun, gleaming black with the bright orchid stripe looking incandescent on the remarkably mobile paint. I kept staring. I’d seen tattoos that moved like that, maybe a prismatic effect in the paint, or nanotechnology. I could hardly wait to get my hands on the controls! I loved her at first sight.

  “Oh, she’s beautiful, magnificent!” I couldn’t play it cool. The instrument panel shined with chrome and colorful dials for every possible function. I’d never seen such a glorious sailboat in my life.

  Gabe put out his hand and I accepted it, letting him help me aboard. The sleep and great meals helped, but I still felt disoriented from the wreck. I stepped foot on her and she rocked in welcome. I patted her mast. I breathed her new-boat smell. I knelt at the instrument panel and found the power switch. It appeared to have solar cells and I bet it had strong storage capabilities to withstand prolonged cloud cover. The displays lit up in that wonderful black-light purple with teal accents. My heart lifted as she told me everything my nautical heart desired: wind speed and direction, weather fronts, longitude and latitude, our exact position on various maps including live on satellite, soundings below us which also showed the sea shelf and aquatic creatures — I suspected she could give me deep views of the Mariana trench. She gave temperature readouts for the air and at different depths of the sea. Her sails looked amazingly light and translucent, yet my fondling hands found them tougher than parachute silk.

  “It’s a new polymer. Damned near indestructible,” Gabe said with pride. “As is her body, the mast, every inch of her. She’s light, too, for maximum speed. We’ve clocked her at higher speeds than any other known sailing vessel.” He rocked back on his heels in the sand, his substantial bulge arching in the sunlight.

  “Amazing!” With her, could beat the record, despite this delay.

  I rested my hands on her possessively. Amazon.

  Gabe smiled at me. His blue-green eyes gleamed. He knew he’d won.

  The knock at the door came as a relief. As long as it wasn’t Gabe. I wasn’t ready to see him yet. Maybe it was Eustace, or the masseuse. I flung the door open.

  Lucas pulled on the long fingers of one hand. “Thought you might like some company. May I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  His presence transformed the room. It went from being an elegant place to being alive. I don’t know how else to explain it. His vibrant energy reached out and made me feel enlivened and at the same time, more at peace.

  We went out on the balcony in wordless agreement. I needed the close call of the ocean for more soothing relief. My nerves felt jangled. I vacillated between disbelief, outrage and a numb state close to acceptance. Gabe hit all the right notes when he played me.

  We s
at down and Lucas extended his long legs out to the balcony rail. He slipped off his sandals and tapped his big toes on the railing.

  “Are you okay?” His deep melodious voice gave the question more weight somehow. Or maybe it was the way he looked at me from under his thick, arched brows. He cared. He wanted to hear what I had to say. That got to me. I guessed I needed a friend right then as much as I ever had in my life.

  “I’m freaked out, to be honest.”

  “Gabe?”

  “Gabe. He made a crazy proposition. And I don’t think I can refuse.” I spread my hands on my knees, marveling again at how thin I looked. To me, my knees looked knobby, but the bony look was all the rage, had been for decades.

  Was it true black men in general liked bigger women? Would Lucas find me attractive if I was my regular size, back in a size 12 and edging toward the plus-size racks?

  “He wants you to be part of the entertainment.” His voice was matter of fact. He nodded.

  “Yeah. Entertainment. He can’t be serious. He kept talking about hunting me. That I’d be prey for the club members to capture.”

  “Yes, he’s serious. Gabe wants to have a special hunt on the island, with you as the prey. He means exactly what he says. He was quite taken with your abilities. You nearly drowned, your boat got totaled, and you did everything right for survival. Not everyone has that combination of level-headedness and practical skill. Those qualities could make you an exceptional asset in the game. He’s excited about it. It will be exciting for the club members, too. It’s a challenge to keep them entertained. But this game will provide a challenge and fun for everyone. The winning hunter will decide your fate at The Billionaires Club.”

  “Fun for everyone. It doesn’t sound fun for me. The whole thing sounds crazy.” My fate at the billionaire’s club. My skin crawled. That sounded ominous. I squeezed my knees to keep my hands steady. “Is this a snuff thing?” My voice shook.