11

My body rocked on the bed, and waves lapped along the side of the boat. We were moving again, but at a much slower pace. There were voices on a radio above deck, but I couldn't make them out.

Shortly after the boat stopped, footsteps pounded down the steps.

"Please. Leave the door open," I said when the man entered. "It's stifling in here."

I felt his hesitation, but didn't hear the door click. A small victory.

"I brought you some breakfast," said the low, rough voice. A tray rattled next to me and the aroma of fresh coffee lifted me from the bed. Struggling with my hands tied, I sat up with my back against the headboard.

The man held my hands in his. They were softer than I'd expected. He pressed a warm mug into my hands. "Drink."

I complied.

The coffee was sweet and creamy, just the way I liked it. That scared the hell out of me. He'd done his research.

I gulped the warm brew and closed my eyes when it trickled down my throat, shooting a much-needed caffeine kick into my veins. I'd felt the beginning of a headache at my temples, but the pounding dissipated with each sip.

"Open your mouth."

"What?" I sputtered, surely spewing some coffee on him.

"Open your mouth so I can feed you some eggs."

My stomach growled, anticipating the meal, so I slowly parted my lips and waited.

I waited, and waited, listening to his breaths, until finally he placed the cool spoon on my bottom lip and I took the eggs into my mouth.

They were delicious. Soft but not runny, creamy but not too heavy.

If I wasn't tied up and held against my will, this would have been the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for me.

"Please. Can you cut the ties? I appreciate you putting a barrier between them and my skin, but they're still chafing, and it hurts."

He let out a breath and dropped the spoon onto the plate with a clank.

"Where am I going to run? There's nowhere for me to go. We're in the middle of the ocean, for goodness' sake."

He sat perfectly still for several seconds and then left the room.

I cursed myself for not waiting until breakfast was finished, but at least he hadn't taken away my coffee. I sipped and waited.

I didn't have to wait long. His padded footfalls on the carpet were back only a few minutes later.

Then a cool steel blade tunneled between my wrists, and with a flick of his hand, he released me.

Relief washed over me, and I gulped in a large reassuring breath. "Thank you," I whispered and rubbed my bandaged wrists.

I raised my arm to remove my blindfold, but his hand stopped me. "No. Not that. Not yet."

I nodded.

He placed the plate on my lap and a fork in my hands. "Eat."

I was a little disappointed to have to do it myself, but that was a stupid feeling. Was I that starved for affection that I would take it from a kidnapper?

Apparently, I was.

He scooped up the egg and passed me the fork. I ensured it touched my bottom lip before I attempted to put it in my mouth. It wasn't easy with the blindfold on, but I managed.

"What do you want?" I asked when he took the fork and plate away.

"You will find out in time. Not yet."

I sighed. "Just tell me. Is this about money or are you going to hurt me? I just need to prepare myself mentally, either way."

He didn't answer. He had stepped away and my chest tightened at the implication.

"Just tell me. I'd rather know."

"I won't hurt you. I promise."

Strangely, I believed him. His voice had a familiar cadence about it. As though I could trust it. But while my gut said to sit and wait, my mind told me to follow the plan.

Don't be a fool. This is your chance. He unlocked the door and untied you. He might tie you up again now that you've eaten. Run. Now's your chance. Go!

I tore off my blindfold. I leaped off the bed, on the opposite side of the room where he stood and ran out the door.

I ran as fast as I could up the small stairs and onto the deck. His steps pounded behind me. I knew I didn't have much time, so I searched for a lifeboat, anything that would get me off of this thing. I saw a lifejacket hanging by the railing and raced toward it.

Stretching my hand to reach it, I'd nearly touched the buckle when a muscled forearm encircled my waist and pulled me back.

Oof!

Air rushed out of my lungs and I saw stars in front of me in the ocean.

"No!" I screamed and struggled against his hold. "Let me go." I kicked his shin.

"Fuck," he grunted and fell forward, but kept me tightly against him.

I was panting and scratching, but somehow had the wherewithal to spot a small wooden broom next to a door. I reached for it and turned as much as I could against his grip.

I held the broom with both hands and raised it, ready to strike. One good hit on the temple should do it. I hoped it would knock him out long enough for me to find that lifeboat.

He held his hands up in surrender, but I didn't believe it for a second. He would lock me up in that room the moment he wrestled this stick from my hand.

I swung swiftly and struck him on the arm. He groaned briefly, but otherwise didn't move. So, I hit the other arm. Again, he didn't reach for the stick. Unnerved, I pulled my arms back and struck the back of his thigh as hard as I could.

"Motherf—" he started, but held back the curse.

He clenched his teeth and took the blows. Only the creases along his eyes showed he felt any of the pain I'd inflicted, but he didn't complain. He kept his mouth shut as I released my anger on him. And he took every blow, even nodding after each strike. As though he agreed with me.

Confused, I shook my head. "Why aren't you fighting back?" I knew the question was absurd. That I should hit him over the head and be done with it. But something in the back of my mind knew this wasn't right. He took each hit I'd given him and didn't try to grab the weapon out of my hand. What kind of kidnapper did that?

My heart thudded against my chest. A feeling of unease settled in my stomach and I stepped forward, but quickly stepped back.

No. It couldn't be.

But my body moved closer toward him and, in one quick movement, I pulled the balaclava from his head.

I gasped. "Oh, my god. OH. MY. GOD!"

A plethora of emotions rolled through me, and I stumbled, trying to step away from him. My head spun and I felt like I would faint. But then, one look at his face and heat ignited in my body. A raging fire stoked by betrayal.

"Let me explain," he said, taking a step toward me. I was no longer afraid. No, that overwhelming emotion was replaced by anger. Unfiltered, uncontrollable rage. I'd never felt it before. My fingertips tingled, my chest burned, and my head pounded while a red mist clouded my vision.

I knew that if I stayed a second longer, I would hit him again, and harder than I had before. I crossed my arms and grounded my back molars. Through clenched teeth, I said, "TAKE. ME. HOME. NOW."

"Nikole, let me explain." He reached toward me and I slapped away his hand.

"Take me home now, or I will press charges."

"You won't do that."

I laughed without any humor. "You know me so well, do you, Jacob Devereux? Well, let me tell you something. You don't know me at all. If you think you can do something like this, and I will just sit and listen to your explanation, then you know nothing about me!" I shouted.

He tried to reach for me again, and I pushed him away. He pressed his lips together, and I knew there was an apology on his lips, but I didn't want to hear it.

While anger still simmered in me, there was no denying the heat on my face was also from humiliation. "I want to go home," I said, and my voice cracked. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I willed the tears away. I would not cry, but my emotions were so volatile. I didn't know what I was feeling anymore. It changed by the second.

His face softened, and he held out his hand. I hated how much I wanted someone's arms around me right now. Someone to comfort me.

The fact that it was him made me angrier. I pushed him away with all my might.

Sadly, he barely budged. He pulled me into his arms and I struggled against him.

"No. No. You don't get to do that. You don't get to comfort me when you're the one who did this to me."

"I knew you'd be safe and no harm would come to you. I needed you to understand how easy it would be for someone to take you, even with someone watching around you. It may have been high-handed, but I couldn't think of any other way to get through to you."

He sighed. "But… "

"But?"

"Now that I can see the fear on your face, I wish I'd thought of something else. I'm sorry, Nikole."

I didn't want to forgive him. I didn't. My body still trembled from the rollercoaster of emotions racing through my veins. The aftermath of my anger left me drained.

I pushed him again, and this time he stepped back. I narrowed my eyes at him and punched his arm for good measure. Then I dropped my arms, closed my eyes, and exhaled loudly through my mouth.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked hesitantly. It was the hesitation that reassured me he wasn't being flippant about it.

"Not yet," I said. Besides, I still hadn't forgiven him for driving away.

He nodded and inhaled deeply, pushing his hands in his pockets. "If you still want to go home, I'll take you back."

He crossed the deck and left me standing alone on the side of the boat. Looking around, I realized it wasn't a boat at all but a mega-yacht. A sleek white one with light wood trim.

I stood there, listening to the ocean, trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours. I couldn't believe it even though I'd lived it.

I didn't know what to feel.

I shivered in my thin white blouse. The wind had picked up again and with my adrenaline gone, there was nothing to keep me warm.

And no one.

Slowly, I retraced my steps and climbed down the narrow staircase. Reaching the lower level, I spotted an LED-lit hallway leading to a living room. Curious, I walked toward it. There were windows all around, feeling as though I were standing on the water.

There was a sectional white couch, a baby grand piano, and a bar off to the side.

A blue and white blanket lay on the edge of the couch. I picked it up and wrapped it around my shoulders.

Sitting on the couch, staring at the water, I tried to collect my thoughts.

I'd been afraid, then determined to escape. I was proud of myself for not giving up.

My pulse beat slower now and I no longer feared I would faint. My anger had dissipated, and I mainly felt confused.

He was my protector and my kidnapper. He made me feel safe and scared the hell out of me. But if I was being honest, today wasn't the first time he scared me. It was last night, on the couch, when his touch sent shivers down my spine.