“You are so getting laid this week.” Leah winks and I glare at her. Getting in bed with someone is so far down on the list of things I want to do.
Thirty minutes later, Leah and I are still drifting in the boat, waiting our turn, when one of the dinghies makes its way over to us.
Leah lets out a huff. “It’s about time.”
She gets up and waits for me to stand as well. The small boat pulls up next to ours and Raphael holds on to it, trying to keep it positioned as close to ours as possible. The man in the dinghy holds out his hand and motions for me to grab it and come on board.
I rise and steady my feet to step over the wall and down onto the small boat. Holding my bag with my left hand, I grab the man’s outstretched hand with my right.
“Nessuna borsa.” He says, motioning to the purse I have clenched tightly to my body.
I blink back at him. There is no way I am leaving my bag and all of its belongings here with a stranger, no matter how nice Raphael may seem.
“Emma, leave your purse. You can’t take it with you.” Leah translates in case I didn’t get the message.
Still holding the man’s hand, I turn to face her. I try to give her an eye that readsover my dead body.
“Give me the bag!” Leah orders and starts to snatch it from my hand.
“Stop that,” I pull it back toward me.
Raphael releases the dinghy and stands to say something to the effect of why I can’t take the bag. The man in the dinghy is now only connected to our boat by the strength of our hands clasped to one another.
“Seriously, you can’t take it with you. Give it to me.” Leah yanks the bag hard.
I release the man’s hand and swing my right arm over to seize the bag back out of Leah’s grasp. In doing so, I lose my ground and, more importantly, my footing and barrel ass up, backward toward the water.
I try to clutch Leah’s hand on the way down but when I clasp my hand on hers, the nerve in my palm bites back and the pain shoots up my arm, forcing me to let go.
My arms flail and I hit the water with a splash, as the searing pain travels from my hand up into to my head.
Black.
All I see is black.
My lungs feel heavy and my body is lifeless. Ashy blonde hair floats around my face. I adjust my eyes and see water . . . everywhere. In front of me, next to me, above and below. The light in front of my eyes goes dark again and then comes back into focus. I reach up to grab onto something, anything, but all I feel is water.
It’s dark.
My heart goes into panic mode as I spin around. I move my arms erratically and try to swim up, but I don’t seem to be moving. A burning sensation settles in my throat, and my chest grows heavier as the air locked in my lungs begs to get out.
My body is trembling when two arms wrap around my chest and pull me back. My body arches forward, my head and feet curving in as I am dragged in retrograde like a rag doll backward and upward.
As soon as my head is above water, I gasp for air and start coughing from deep within. I sound like a barking seal.
Hair is stuck to the front of my face, and I can’t see anything as my body continues to be manhandled. One very strong, thick arm wraps around my torso as the other releases its hold on me.
“Can you hang on?” A raspy, deep voice says from behind me. The accent is American.
Trying to process what is happening, I swallow back and attempt to understand what he’s saying.
“I need you to hold onto the side of the boat. Can you do that?” The male voice asks again. Taking my right hand, I brush the hair away from my face and reach up, securing my body to the boat in question.
When I am in place, the American lets me go and hoists himself over the side in a rather rough manner. My body bobs in the water as the boat sways from his weight. No sooner is he on the deck does he reach down and lifts me from under my armpits and out of the water. His thumbs leave a prodding feeling in my skin.
He sets me down on a seat and my stomach curls in, hugging my chest to my knees. My clothes are soaked and I’ve lost a shoe. I’m shaking, frightened from what I can now acknowledge was a near drowning.
Looking around, I notice this is not my boat. It’s slightly larger in size to the one I was on and far more luxurious. My eyes widen with panic until I hear Leah’s voice yelling over the commotion.
