I blow out a defeated breath and stand, going back to the drawers to take out a large sweater and put it on. This ship is freezing.
The door opens and I step back. It’s him.
His eyes hold mine and he dips his head in acknowledgment.
I nod and drop my eyes.
He puts a plate of food onto the desk. “Eat,” he murmurs.
I drop to a seated position on the bed and he turns and puts his hands on his hips as he watches me. For the first time since my capture I take a good look at him. He is tall, maybe six-foot four, muscular with honey blonde hair that is about three inches long and has a curl on the ends. His skin is olive and his large eyes are brown. In any other circumstance, he would be handsome. Now I know that’s far from the truth. Looks can be deceiving. He’s a murdering criminal.
“Stay in the room,” he murmurs.
My eyes meet his.
“You are safe in here.”
I stare at him, I don’t even know how to reply to that statement.
“Keep the door locked…” He pauses for a moment. “Or they will come and get you.”
I don’t answer.
“Answer me,” he snaps angrily.
“Yes.” I nod.
He turns and with one last lingering look, he leaves and I hear the door click as he locks it behind him.
I sit in the semi-darkened room for a moment as I try to process what he has just told me. Keep the door locked or they will come and get me. I am safe in this room, but I’m not safe enough. He told me I’m not woman enough for him. For the first time, my thoughts go to Todd and Melissa who are probably in the throws of passion right now. They wouldn’t even know I’m missing yet and probably think I have just taken off somewhere in anger. Sadness fills me as I realize that they probably wouldn’t even care if I did.
I curl up into a ball in his cold, hard bed of a prison and allow myself to weep.
I’ve never felt so alone.
I think I’ve finally hit rock bottom.
* * *
I am woken as I feel the bed dip. I pry open my sleepy eyes to see Mac sitting on the bed next to me. By the lighting I can tell it’s dark and he has been gone all day.
“You haven’t eaten.”
I look away from him and stare at the wall.
He stands and goes into the bathroom and showers. Still, I face the wall.
I have no words. Nothing to say to him, anyway.
He walks back into the room with a towel around his waist. “We get to Puerto Rico in twenty-eight days. You can get off there.”
I roll onto my back and turn to face him, frowning in question.
He drops the towel to dress and without thinking my eyes scan his body before I snap my gaze away.
“You are on your own when we get there, though. I want nothing to do with it,” he says.
I shake my head. Typical. What kind of man kidnaps a girl and then dumps her alone at a dock in Puerto Rico?