Taken by Lies (Truth or Lies 1)

Slowly I climb up on the railing with my feet on the bottom rung, my hands gripping the top.

I suck in a breath, but it’s mostly water entering my throat at this point. It burns down my lungs, making me cough and gasp for a clean breath.

I don’t have much time if I’m going to be the one to decide.

Carefully, I hike one leg over the top of the railing and then the other until there is nothing between me and the ocean but letting go.

A wave splashes hard onto my body, knocking me back against the railing. I don’t know how the surge didn’t take me then. I shouldn’t be strong enough to hold on and fight the wind, rain, and waves.

I close my eyes, trying to feel one moment of freedom. One moment that’s mine. One where I can forgive the sea for the pain it’s caused me and let it take me in mercy. In one swift pull, I’ll be gone.

I have no one to say goodbye to. Nothing left to think or worry about.

I don’t think of heaven or hell.

I’ve been living in hell, and I can’t imagine such as place as heaven after what I went through.

No, I long for darkness to take me and never give me back. I ache for a long sleep where I never wake up.

Peace.

I feel it for a moment. The sea seems to calm as if accepting me and preparing me to take the plunge.

“Take me,” I say. I let go.

I fall for only a half a second, before a hand grabs my wrist. My feet didn’t even leave the bottom rung.

“What the hell?”

I turn back and see Jarod holding my wrist. When I first arrived, I thought he might have the most empathy. He was the one I tried to break and persuade to show me compassion, but it only made him try harder to break me—more determined than all the rest. And if I had to say who the leader is, it’s him.

He’s the captain of the boat, the leader of the crew. But only here. Enzo is the leader back home.

No, Enzo isn’t a leader either. He follows orders from Black. Black is the one I should hate the most.

“Let me go,” I cry, knowing one slip of his hand and I’ll be free.

But Jarod is strong. One sharp pull and I’m back on the other side of the railing, but not to safety. I’ve learned there is no such thing. But I’m no longer on the edge of death like I was before.

“You crazy bitch,” he curses.

Another wave crashes and knocks us against something sharp. My head pounds, and now along with the water flowing down my face, I feel the ooze of blood.

My eyes grow heavy, and the world turns foggy.

“Shit,” Jarod curses.

He tosses me over his shoulder as he carries me inside. To my surprise, he doesn’t take me to my room. It’s the only room I’ve been in for months. No, instead he brings me to another room—to one with a bed.

A bed?

Why would I need a bed?

Are they going to rape me in a bed instead of on the floor?

I should fight, but I have nothing left.

I’ve given up.