Page 25 of Wallflower

I move my ass, snatching up the other bag of evidence, and exiting the balcony doors. While outside, I try to reel myself back in. Filling the duffle bags with sand to weigh them down, I attempt to find a way to approach this fucking situation. I was actually hoping I could break up with Cynthia, and never have to tell Rose she was the other woman. But Brad has me dangling by the nuts. One unappreciated snap of my tongue, and he will divulge all my secrets just to watch me crumble.

Anchored a few hundred yards off shore, I drop the weighted bags from the balcony. The splash is loud, but in the early morning hours, I doubt it's heard by anyone. If it is, they are either too inebriated to pay it much mind, or half-asleep and think they’re probably dreaming. By the time anyone raises thealarm about Rose and Chelsea, if her family even decides to do that, the ship will be mostly empty, the vacationers all having gone off to explore the island. It won’t dock until high tide, still a few hours away yet, and the girls will be far away by then.

Looking back into the room through the open balcony door, I give Brad a nod. He’s secured his knapsack to his back, and managed to get the over-the-head lifejackets secured around both women. Quickly, I change my clothes. The outfit matching Brad’s almost perfectly, tight black tank and black swim shorts. Grabbing my backpack and the inflatable raft from the desk as he passes it, he pushes the two trembling girls toward me.

“You first,” he chortles.

It’s neverme first. He’s switching up the routine to deliberately unnerve me, and it’s fucking working. Brad slams the items into my chest, jutting his chin.What are you waiting for, his eyes seem to say. Knowing I don’t want to leave my girl alone with him for even a second.

Mustering up the energy to keep every single flicker of displeasure off my face, I slide the backpack on and carefully climb over the railing. Jumping out and away from the ship with all my strength, I plunge down. Feet first spearing into the water with my arms crossed tightly over the raft held to my chest. I make less sound than the duffle bags did moments ago, and I kick with all my might until I breach the surface.

The second I wipe the salt water from my eyes, I pull the ripcord, tossing the rapidly inflating package away from me. This is only the third time we’ve had to acquire the target from a ship, and I’m not confident enough in our method to attempt it in complete darkness. Which is part of the reason we are cutting it so close to pick up time. The slowly rising sun is aiding our malicious actions. However, it’s a race against the light spreading out across the horizon.

Slowly, I tread water, waiting for the others to join me in the balmy ocean waters. Brad wasn’t lying when he said the waters were choppy, but on this side of the cruise ship, the wind is dampened by the massive vessel. Once we are out of its shelter, the raft will be more difficult to navigate.

I watch, heart leaping into my throat, as Brad scoops Chelsea up and tosses her over the side. Leaving him alone with my Rosie. I hate myself for not fighting back against him, trying to preserve what little fucking hope I have of keeping Rose for myself. However, if I let her sister drown, there’ll be no coming back from that.

Chelsea’s head pops up above the surface, thanks to the lifejacket, eyes wide and searching. She’s breathing too fast, borderline panicked, sucking too much water in through her nose while she bobs untethered in the lapping waves. I quickly swim over to her. “Calm down before you choke, I’ve got you.” Her eyes narrow to slits, rage festering in the deep trenches of her blue irises. Grabbing a hold of the life vest’s handle, I pull her alongside me toward the boat. After hefting her inside, I turn back toward the balcony. The light in the room is off, Brad and Rose nowhere to be seen.

Chelsea’s red-rimmed eyes lock with mine right before she plummets from view. Screaming through sealed lips, I race toward the railing, waiting for a glimpse of that bright orange life vest with her now chestnut hair spread across it.

“Sam’s got another woman waiting for him on the island.” Brad’s voice comes from behind me, so close I feel the words against my skin. I whimper as his arms coil around me, dragging my back flush to his chest. My body stiffens as his hands explore my body, but I don’t react. I need to stay here in order to see Chelsea break through the lapping waves.

His rough touch gropes my chest. “You can use me to get back at him if you want.” His wet lips press into the sensitiveparts of my neck, awakening a fucked up tornado of feelings. While initially dumbfounded, I eventually figured out what Brad meant when he said ‘I wasn’t the first one’. I’m not the only captive Sam’s fallen for, and certainly not the only one he’s vowed to protect and try to free.

Chelsea breaks the surface, and I breathe a sigh of relief as Sam makes his way toward her. Her new outfit is the yin to my yang, red string bikini top and black short-shorts with a white pinstripe. To any passing personnel Chelsea and I look like normal vacationers on a girls trip. Which I assume was the plan all along.

Spinning me in his hold, Brad tilts my face to his. “What do you say?” In an attempt to not piss him off, I shrug. A smile spreads across his mouth, showing off a hint of a tattoo on his inner lip. “That’s the spirit.”

If I can keep Brad on my good side, it can only work to mine and Chelsea’s benefit. Right?

Fisting my hair with one hand, he holds me tight as he climbs over the balcony’s railing. Gripping tight to the metal with his free hand, he bends back over toward me, managing to get his shoulder against my abdomen to haul me over his body with his arm banded around the back of my legs.

Maybe this whole downturn of events is my fault. A punishment for all the wrongs I’ve committed.

“Hold your breath,” Brad instructs.

Then we fall.

The buoyant life jacket works against the pressure of the ocean, floating me toward the surface while I furiously kick my legs. Salt water stings my eyes when I force them open, vision blurry and obscured by the rapidly rising air bubbles.

How long can I hold my breath? I haven’t timed myself since I was a child, playing mermaids in the backyard pool with Chelsea. My lungs beg for the urge to replenish their oxygen, but I withstand the tightened burning in my chest. Working my body through the current.

A shadow comes for me, followed by a sharp tug on the back of the life jacket, hauling me into the fresh briny air.

Gasping, I suck in a breath, nose filling with water as I bob along behind Brad. He’s a strong swimmer, pulling me through the increasingly choppy waters.

Another jerk on the tether digs the front of the vest into my throat, and I cough, sputtering against the tape starting to lose its stickiness. My body floats into Brad’s, his skin warm against mine as he treads water, observing me.

“Do you know how to swim?” he inquires. I nod shakily as a wave crashes into us. The winds have shifted. The once sheltered side of the ship now taking on the brunt of the oncoming storm. One hand of his raises above the surface, while the other works in tune with his legs to keep his head above water. “If you scream, I’ll drown you. Which leaves your sister on the hook to earn twice as much.” Another nod from me has him pulling the tape from my lips. Finally, I can breathe deeply.

“Sam can’t control the raft alone in this weather, and I’m not making any progress pulling you along. So, we need to swim for it.”

Brad observes me with those dark, soulless eyes. Probably weighing his options of leaving me alone to fend for myself. Luckily, I’m a decent swimmer when my hands aren’t tied behind my back.

Despite the burning in my thighs from the exertion of keeping myself afloat, my whole body chills when Brad raises a knife out of the water. “I’m going to cut you free. Swim for the raft.” He points the tip of the knife to the yellow spec floating in the distance. The feat seems near unachievable.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to swim for shore?”