“Bridge clear,” he reports. “Four men. All good for movement, Xavier?”
“No more hostile fire,” Xavier confirms. “All good for movement.”
“Let’s wrap up the shitshow,” Reuben’s order is final.
A sound on the lowest level of the deck makes me pause. Muffled voices. Male.
I ready my gun, raising my knife as I follow the sounds down the hall with narrowed eyes. I’d passed some of the guests on my way through the levels. Ordered them all to stay out of sight and not to open their doors until the all-clear was given, but the lowest levels of the cruise ship were so empty, I was convinced there was no one here.
Room 206. The door is slightly ajar, but the voices are louder now. Discernible. Two males.
And a third voice—the muffled one.
I’m not sure why the sound of it makes my heartbeat seem so loud.
I step into the room slowly, silently. Into a short hall with a small bathroom to my left—the usual layout for the cheapest rooms.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” a man’s voice groans.
There are sharp, thrusting sounds. The creaking of a bed. A woman’s muffled cries.
And an unpleasant feeling is pooling in the pits of my stomach.
“Her cunt is so fucking tight,” another voice with a lower tenor speaks. An adult. Male.
The woman’s cries become worse. They become whimpers.
And I think I’m shaking but I’m not sure.
“Playing hard to get when you take it. So. Good.” The first voice is strained. Breathy. Followed by sharp thrusts.
I step out of the hall, deep enough to see the whole scene, and I swear the shaking gets worse but my hands are steady.
Two men.
I recognize them from the party. The shadows who lurked in the dark.
Whom I’d considered throwing overboard but didn’t follow through.
One of them is pounding deeply into a half-nude body. Spreading her legs wide on the bed as he spears her with his cock, while the other pins her to the head of the bed, thrusting in and out of her mouth.
I can’t hear myself think when I meet Lucia’s tearstained eyes.
“What the fuck is going on?” I think I ask. I must have because both men turn to me, startled, before scowling.
“Get the fuck out of here,” the man with his cock in Lucia’s mouth snaps at me.
And my rage spikes. My pulse is a rush of blood in my ears.
“I asked what thefuckis going on?!” I snarl, firing two shots so they know I’m not playing around.
They immediately jump off the bed with wide eyes, the shots having woken them up and realized who’s in control.
But I can only see Lucia.
“Christian,” her voice is a hoarse whisper, a croak. Her dress is torn in places, exposing her breasts, and the skirt of it is hiked above her hips.
The scene is unfamiliar. And wet. And messy.
