Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
For now. He might not have said the words, but they hang in the air, heavy and thick with a warning.
“No one will disturb you.” He doesn’t wait for me to step in, nor does he say goodbye. Instead, I’m left standing in the door’s threshold. The choice is mine.
I don’t know if I believe him that I’m safe for the time being, but I have no choice but to accept that I’m here now, and I have no place to go.
I’ll need my strength and my wits, and I won’t be able to think if I’m delirious. I decide to walk inside, close the door, and throw myself onto the bed. I don’t bother looking for clothes or stripping. Instead, I close my eyes and let sleep find me.
When I wake sometime later, the boat is no longer moving. Or if it is, it’s moving very slow.
Pulling the shades back from the window above my bed, all I see is darkness. It’s the middle of the night.
Now is the perfect time.
I can sneak around …
Maybe I’ll find George.
My bare feet hit the carpeted floor, and I wonder if I should put on shoes, but then I shake that thought away. If I do, I won’t be able to creep around.
I’m still dressed in my clothes from before, but I don’t have anything else to change into, so it will have to do.
Heading for the door, I slowly open it, not wanting to make too much noise. The door is heavy. Much heavier than a normal door. The urge to use all my weight to swing it open is strong, but I can’t. Instead, I try to be as quiet as I can when I open it. When it does finally open, I realize my attempts were in vain.
Standing outside my door is one of his men.
Without a word, I slam the door shut, not caring how loud it echoes, and flop back on my bed.
So much for that.
11
Phoenix
Falling.
It feels like the ground is rocking underneath me, and I’m about to lose purchase just as my eyelids jolt open.
A dream. It was only a dream. But as I rub the sleep from my eyes, I realize that’s not the case. My nightmare, as it turned out, is also my reality. I am stuck on Alaric’s boat. I look around the plush and beautifully decorated stateroom Alaric led me to. When was that? How long have I slept? I feel groggy, not refreshed. Sitting up in the bed, I look around the room. There’s no clock, which makes sense.
Time is irrelevant. It drips between my fingers, almost tauntingly.
The drapes are still pulled back from my earlier attempt to leave, and again, I am met with darkness. The moonlight reflecting in the distance is the only visible light.
How can it still be night?
Should I go outside? Should I try again? Although I slept, I’m not in the mood to bump into him, so instead, I walk into the bathroom inside my room and turn on the shower. Before I strip out of my clothes I have been wearing for days, I look around for something to put on, and that’s when I see a robe hanging behind the door. Later, I’ll look to see if there’re any clothes, but for now, I need to wash off the past forty-something hours. I don’t know how long it’s been, but it makes no difference. I still feel dirty, tired, and disgusted with myself.
Once the water is on and my clothes are on the floor, I step into the scorching water and let it beat down on me, cleansing away the grime and salty air that clings to my body.
It doesn’t take me long to feel like a new person. I shut the off water and dry myself with a towel. Then I wrap the robe around my body and feel ready to search the boat. The only problem is my lack of clothing. I have a choice, but the idea of putting on that little dress again makes my skin crawl. I notice a pair of slippers, put them on, and head out the door. The first thing I notice is that my guard is missing. The next is how quiet the boat is, leading me to believe that it’s well past midnight. If it’s the wee hours of the morning, this might be the perfect time to look for the radio. The boat isn’t moving right now—or if it is, it’s moving slow, which could bode well in my favor. Maybe the captain is sleeping. I kick off my slippers, realizing the sound they make slapping against the floor is too loud.
I make it up the stairs and toward the front of the boat. When I push open the door to where the captain should be, I see a light glimmer in the corner.