Water ran in the background. After she’d emptied all that came up, she reached up and hit the flush handle. She felt sick and disgusting.
A wet towel appeared in front of her face, causing her to start. She scrambled backward on her hands and barely missed hitting her head on the corner of the sink.
“Hope you’re happy with yourself.”
Sammie’s gaze followed the voice. “Jenny.” Hoarse and weak, she sounded pitiful even to herself.
“What exactly were you planning to do with that old man last night?”
Sammie squinted. “What old man?”
“The one who was groping you? We saw you both just as you were unlocking your door. Had you been a tiny bit”—Jenny held her thumb and index finger up—“less drunk, you might’ve made it into the room before we saw you, and who knows what would have happened. So I guess it worked out in your favor this time to be wasted beyond oblivion. I’ve seen you toasted, but I’ve never seen you like that. What is wrong with you?”
“So many words. Shhh!” Sammie put a hand to her head. Shadowy memories from the night before returned. Sitting at the bar, talking to someone. Steven. “I don’t remember much, but I’m not into old guys. You worry too much,” she said.
Using the sink as an anchor, Sammie pulled herself up off the floor. Her balance was non-existent. Holding on for dear life, she managed to rinse her mouth out.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly nine,” Jenny said. “We’re getting ready to dock in St. Lucia. Owen and I are going to go explore with Jeff and Molly. You need to stay here and get yourself under control.”
The more Sammie awakened, the less she liked the tone of Jenny’s voice. “What do you mean, get myself under control?”
“I mean, act like an adult for once. You could have been raped last night, and you would’ve never even known it.”
What the...? Sammie’s blood simmered, and it made her head hurt even worse. Where was the damned ibuprofen? “You have a lot of nerve telling me to get myself under control.”
“Oh, sure. I know you don’t like to be told about how you behave. I’ve watched you do this to yourself too many times to count. At some point, you’ve got to grow up. Since you’re obviously not going to be able to function today, you can stay on the ship and dry up. And stay away from that gross old man. He might be close to seventy, but he looked dangerous last night.”
Jenny stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.
Sammie grabbed her head at the sound of the door slamming. Purse! That was where her ibuprofen was. She turned her purse upside down, and the bottle tumbled out with a rattle. She took four pills, washed them down with the water on her nightstand, and collapsed back on the bed.
Surely she’d feel better soon.
Chapter 5
Many hours and many bottles of water later, Sammie began to feel at least partially human again. She finally rose, brushed her teeth, and took a shower. After slathering herself with sunblock first, she pulled on a pair of white linen shorts and a navy tank top. She dressed up the outfit with a long necklace, multiple bracelets, and strappy sandals. Elegance could go to hell. Today, she needed simple comfort. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail, securing it at the nape of her neck.
Glancing at her watch as she disembarked, she saw it was nearly five p.m. “What time is the ship leaving?” she asked one of the crew members standing at the bottom of the stairs.
“Nine p.m., miss. And you’d benefit from a hat and sunglasses. It’s eighty-seven degrees today.”
“Thanks! I’ll buy them while I’m out.” It would give her a purpose. She had four hours to see St. Lucia, and she’d go alone. Her heart twisted at the thought. She missed Jenny. Yes, she’d seen Jenny every day for the last eight days, but it wasn’t the same. Had she known how quickly things would change, she would have asked for one last BFF day for just the two of them.
At least today she wouldn’t have to listen to a bunch of couples stories that left no room for her to add to the conversation. Maybe she should have pretended to have met someone before the cruise. Bob, for example. She could have entertained herself with her knack for telling stories and spent the entire cruise telling Sammie-and-Bob stories. How they’d met at the grocery store when she helped him pick out oatmeal. How they’d gone on a romantic date to Olive Garden in Topeka. Yes, Bob could be a new doctor at the hospital where she worked. Out of all the nursing assistants, he’d fallen in love with her.
Sammie blew out her breath. She could feel the merciless sun on a cellular level. The alcohol must have made her skin extra-sensitive. Fortunately, she’d been smart enough to bring her sunscreen, but she needed that hat like yesterday.
“Beautiful trinket for a beautiful girl,” a boy said as he walked up to her, holding out a bracelet.
“No, thank you.” Sammie smiled. She’d bought so many ‘trinkets’ on the other islands already. She didn’t need more stuff.
After an hour of perusing the shops near the port and telling a dozen or more street vendors “No, thank you,” she ventured off to see the rest of St. Lucia. The island wasn’t very big, so she would have plenty of time.
The kid who’d approached her with the bracelet happened to be about five feet away from her. “How can I get a ride?” she asked him. “I want to see the island.”
His smile widened, exposing gapped front teeth.
“Come,” he said, beckoning her toward him. He skipped off through the crowd, and she followed. He led her to a middle-aged man. “This is Reggie. He can drive you.”
“Welcome to St. Lucia,” Reggie said, gesturing wide with his hands. “Where would you like to go?”
“Away from the tourists,” Sammie said. “I want to just ride around and see the island. Maybe stop at a few places. How much for three hours of your time and gas?”
“Mi deh ya! I am here for you. One hundred and sixty ECs. I will show you all the best places and deliver you to the location of your choice in three hours.”
Sammie loved the accents she’d heard across the Caribbean, and this place was no different. “Deal. My ship leaves at nine, so I have to be back by then.”
A striking woman came out of a shop, motioning to Sammie’s newly hired driver. “My wife will ride with us,” the man said.
“Great.” Sammie shook the woman’s hand.
“Shall we go?” The man opened the back door for Sammie and then ran around and opened the passenger door for his wife.
Riding on the other side of the street was a new experience, and Sammie was glad she didn’t have to drive. After they’d been riding for a while, the sun set, and her head started to pound again. Odd. Seems like the darkness would help. “I need a Bloody Mary,” she said, pointing at her head.
The man laughed loudly, and she cringed. “Too much fun for you, eh?” He turned down a couple of streets and parked. “There is a party here every night. You will be sure to find a Bloody Mary.”
“Thanks! How will I find you when I’m done?” Sammie pulled a hundred-dollar bill from her purse and handed it to the man. “No change needed.”
“I’ll wait heeya. Just come back when you are finished.”
Sammie got out of the car and pushed her way through the crowd. “Excuse me. Sorry!” She nearly tripped, but a hand closed around her arm.
“Sa sé an joli, madam. Be careful.”
“Thank you,” she said, but the man didn’t immediately release her. The crowd seemed to grow denser, and people jostled her back and forth. “Excuse me!” she cried out, but she couldn’t get through.
Someone grabbed her butt. “Hey!” She spun around. Music blared, and she got turned around again. With so many people around her, and the light fading quickly, she couldn’t remember which way she’d been walking. It wasn’t even six o’clock yet, but the sun had already set.
The crowd thinned as quickly as it had thickened, and she could breathe again. Looking around, she recognized the bar she’d been heading for.
She approached the entrance and stepped inside. The loud music was enough to make her want to crawl into a corner. Her head was throbbing intensely now, as if her heart had taken up residence there. She rubbed her temples.
The bartender took one look at her and offered her foam earplugs.
“Thank you! Can I have a Bloody Mary?”
A few minutes later, the bartender slid the drink in front of her. She nearly wept. After using the celery to stir it, she held back the veggies and sipped. When she finished, the bartender took the glass. Removing her earplugs, she realized she was already starting to feel better.
“Twelve dollars, miss,” the bartender said.
Sammie reached for her purse and froze. “Oh my god!” She jumped off her seat and looked down at the floor, hoping it had fallen. Frantically, she looked up at the bartender. “Did you see a purse on me when I came in?”
The young man shrugged and shook his head. “I didn’t notice.”
Sammie’s heart thudded in her chest as she tried to think. Maybe she’d left it in the back seat of the car. That’s it!
“I’m sorry!” Sammie shouted over the music. “I lost my purse, and my money is in it. Can I come back and pay you?”
The bartender gave her a tired look, as if he thought she was feeding him a story. “Go ahead.”
“Thank you! I’m sorry. I’ll be back.”
Sammie ran out the door. She’d taken a left turn into the bar, so she needed to take a right turn to go back the way she’d come. It was so dark that she could barely see, but there were fewer people than earlier, and she made it through the crowd easily. Within minutes, she was at the corner where the driver had let her out, but his car wasn’t there.
What was his name? What was his name?
Reggie!
“Reggie!” She called the name as loudly as she could. “Reggie!”
Angry tears filled her eyes. What the hell was going on? How had she managed to lose her purse when she’d never removed it from her shoulder? Not even when she took out the money to pay Reggie.
She started jogging back down the block toward the bar, running into each establishment and asking if someone had turned in a lost purse. No one she asked had seen it, and some of them laughed at her. One lady called her a “stupid tourist.”
Sammie wished she’d paid better attention to the direction Reggie had driven. She’d been more intent on looking at the scenery than memorizing the route.
Sitting on a bench in front of a closed shop, she put her face in her hands. What was she going to tell Jenny? She knew the answer to that: Nothing. She would walk back to the port, and she’d work on canceling her credit cards and getting a new driver’s license. Crap. Her phone was in her purse, too. Why had she brought all those things along, anyway? She couldn’t use her phone here.
Running a hand up her arm, she noticed that the ship’s wristband was missing, as well as one of the bracelets she had put on earlier that day. How was that even possible? The wristband buckled securely, like a watch. Pickpockets. She took a deep breath. Don’t panic. Just get to the ship. She would tell the Port Authority what had happened, and Jenny and Owen would be able to fix everything.
Sammie jogged back to the place where Reggie had let her out. “Can somebody help me?”
A woman nearby turned and looked at her. “What kind of help do you need?”
“A ride to the port, please,” Sammie said, grateful for the response.
“Taxis are everywhere,” the woman said, motioning around.
“How do I know which cars are taxis?”
Music blared from one of the street speakers, and the crowd cheered. The woman Sammie had been speaking to closed her eyes, lifted her hands in the air and began dancing to the island music. Normally, this would be Sammie’s kind of crowd, but she had more pressing matters on her mind. She tapped the woman’s shoulder, causing her to spin around.
“Can you tell me where I am?” Sammie yelled above the music.
“Marigot Bay!” the woman said before she danced away.
Sammie started walking to get away from the noise. The next block featured a string of bars with picnic tables outside, filled with people. The smell of marijuana was thick in the air. Several men called out to her, but she ignored them. She only needed to figure out where Port Castries was so she could follow the shoreline in that direction and get back to the ship. It should be easy.
What time was it? She would have asked one of the locals, but after the evening’s experiences, she was hesitant. Whom could she could trust? She couldn’t trust anyone. It seemed the rest of the world had let her down, Jenny included.
Sammie continued walking until she found herself in a more sparsely populated area. It was not deserted, but it was nothing like the street party she’d come from. That place would have given the Mardi Gras a run for its money. She studied the few people nearby and chose to speak to one fellow who looked especially shy.
“Hello,” she said to the young man, who looked around as if she might be talking to someone else. “What’s your name?” she asked. “I’m Sammie. I need help.”
“My name is Charles. What trouble are you in, miss?”
“All of my belongings have been stolen. I need to get to the port before my ship leaves.”
“I am sorry,” the young man said. “I don’t have a car.”
Sammie’s shoulders sagged. “Am I heading in the right direction for Port Castries?”
“Yes, you are.” Charles nodded.
A man of few words.
“How far away am I?” Sammie asked.
“About twenty-five minutes.”
Hope surged in Sammie. “Oh, that’s great!” She grabbed his hand and shook it. “Thank you!” With newfound motivation, she began to jog, grateful to have stayed in shape. She should be able to get there in fifteen minutes if she kept up her pace.
“Miss!” Charles called after her.
Sammie spun around. “Yes?”
“Are you walking the whole way?”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“The twenty-five minutes is by driving. Walking will take much longer.”
Every ounce of optimism Sammie had left drained away. I’m so screwed.
“This way, please.” Charles led Sammie down a lonely street and stopped in front of a brightly painted building surrounded by palm trees. A sign above the door read “Dom’s Bar.” The establishment resembled many of the other places in St. Lucia, except that the indoor area was enclosed. Patrons could gather outside for open-air seating, but they had to go through a door to get inside.
“Here you will find help,” Charles said just before he disappeared into the building.
Sammie had no choice but to follow. At this point, the young man was her only hope.
Chapter 6
Dominic growled and crumpled up the newspaper.
“What’s wrong, mate?” Dominic’s newest friend asked.
“I don’t know why I read that garbage. It always makes me angry.”
Ethan smoothed the crumpled paper, and his eyes widened. “I heard about that man.
It’s so sad.” He shook his head. “Senseless. Hopefully, the smart ones will set it all straight. As much as it can be at this stage.”
“There’s not enough of the smart ones,” Dominic mumbled.
Ethan laughed. “You’re right about that.”
The bar patrons cheered as they watched the West Indies play India in a cricket game on the big screen. Dominic laughed. The West Indies team was in little danger of losing, but they still cheered each time a run was scored or a wicket was taken.
The chime on the door sounded, and Charles walked in. Dominic nodded to his young friend. Before the door could close behind Charles, a white woman followed. The bar fell silent for a moment except for the country music in the background.
The woman froze, caught by the patrons’ stares. Dominic sighed. He hoped no one yelled anything inappropriate. Too often, tourist women we
re subjected to unnecessary remarks by some of the locals. The actions of a few tended to give the island a bad reputation. And this woman’s figure would likely get her more attention than most. Tiny waist but with h—.”
“Dominic.” Charles waved a hand in front of him.
Dominic’s face warmed. He’d been staring, just like the rest of them. “Yes, Charles. What is it?”
The woman’s gaze snapped to Dominic’s when he spoke. What a beautiful girl, he thought. Interesting features. He couldn’t hold back a smirk as he watched her study him as well.
“This woman needs help,” Charles said. “I didn’t know what else to do, so I brought her here.”
The woman moved to stand beside Charles. Half of the nosy patrons watched them, but when India scored, they booed and turned their attention back to the game.
“What happened?” Dominic asked.
“I was robbed. I just need to get back to my ship before it leaves.”
“Where are you from?” he asked.
She blinked. “Um, Kansas.”
“I like your accent,” Dominic said.
“I don’t have an accent.”
Dominic and Ethan both laughed, while Charles grinned shyly.
The woman rushed forward and placed her hands on the bar. “Please. I have no way to contact anyone.”
“Who robbed you, and where are your friends?”
“I’m not certain. It doesn’t matter, anyway. They’re probably back on the ship by now. We’re docked in Castries.”
“So you went gallivantin’ around alone? In the dark?”
The woman closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. “Yes, I did.”
Ethan snorted. “Americans always think nothing bad will ever happen to them.”
The American beauty drew her head back like she’d been threatened. “Don’t judge me, you ra—”
“Ah-ah!” Dominic looked at Ethan and held up one hand. “Ethan, there’s no need to insult our visitor.”
The Conflicted Maid of Honor (The Conflicted Love Series Book 2) Page 3
