Too cheap to get me authentic jewelry, but wants to sell me at a high price? Good luck, buddy. Any smart John in this business will see right through it.
I undress, quickly slipping the bodycon dress on. I secure the necklace and the earrings, then slip the stilettos on. I chuckle to myself, thinking this could be some kind of fucked up Cinderella retelling. Instead of glass slippers and pumpkins, it's stilettos and guns.
Save the story plotting for when you’re not in danger, Luna.
I walk over to the door on the far side and knock. No use sitting around, the quicker I get out of here, the better.
The door unlocks, and Johnny appears. “I was just about to come collect you. My, my, you are a shapely woman.” He stands closer, his large hand touching the small of my back. “I love a woman with curves, such as yours. What did you see in my cousin?”
“Considering I was hiding from him, not a whole lot.”
Johnny laughs, and there’s a spark behind his eyes. He holds out his arm for me to take, and I hesitate. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”
I slide my hand in the crook of his elbow and follow him out of the room. We take the nearby elevator down to the garage, where Greg and two other men are waiting by an SUV. “There’s my whore.” Greg says, opening the SUV's back door.
Johnny gives Greg an unamused look, and Greg’s smile disappears. “Get in the car,” Johnny says, turning to me, his tone soft. I let go of his arm and slide into the back seat, not looking at Greg as I pass him by. Johnny starts to say something, but the door closes, and the static silence of the car engulfs me.
The car starts to move, and I sit back in my seat, watching the city go by until I see an exit sign for the inlet. The car pulls offon the exit, and we pull up to a pier. The vehicle comes to a halt, and my door opens. “Come on, out,” Greg says.
I step out of the SUV, the wind wiping my hair around, and a chill sets into my bones. I wrap my arms around myself, looking around the surrounding area, to look for a place I can run, but there’s no way out. Greg and the others stand behind me. The only way out is off the pier.
I’m a strong swimmer, but where would I go? It’s nighttime, and the water is much colder now that it’s late October. I’d die before I could swim to shore. I swallow the taste of hopelessness down and continue walking out onto the pier to the boat that’s tied to the dock at the end.
Johnny gets on first, holding his hand out to me next. I step on, which is almost made impossible by this skin-tight dress. I step aside as Greg and the brothers get on, preparing the boat for its departure. Johnny turns the engine on and pauses to light a cigar. “Want a puff?” he asks, striking the match and puffing the cigar until thick gray clouds pulse out of his mouth. He takes one last puff, holding the smoke in his mouth and holding the cigar out to me.
“No, thank you,” I say, a ghost of a smile twitching at the corner of my mouth, laying on a fictitious gratitude for the offer.
A slap across my face makes me stumble, nearly falling backwards over the edge of the boat, but a large hand catches my arm, pulling me back from the edge. My face burns, and I try to shrink away, but Johnny holds me to him. “Why the fuck did you hit her?” Johnny growls at Greg.
“She refused you; she doesn’t get to say no,” Greg yells back.
Johnny moves fast and grabs Greg by the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling out a gun from his waist belt and aiming it under his chin.
For a second, I hope the gun goes off and blows his brains out, but another part of me wishes he doesn’t because I want to be the one who takes his life.
“If you touch her again, I will blow your brains out. Got it? She can refuse a puff of a cigar, you fucking freak. Nowonder our grandfather liked you so much. I guess he saw himself in you, you know, always hitting women behind closed doors, being a weak man.” He releases Greg, shoving him back as he did. “Drive the fucking boat.”
Greg straightens, bristling past me, giving me a deadly glare.
Fucking prick.
You should take his life. Do it tonight.
The darkness I felt before pulses. I brush my hand over my sternum, massaging my broken heart, trying to dull the ache, but it does nothing to soothe it.
Fingers gently tug on my chin, pulling my face to meet mature dark eyes. “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”
The ache from the darkness spreads through my whole body, anger and rage burn me from within, but I wouldn’t give them my fear. It didn’t belong to them. “It’s nothing I haven’t already endured.” Johnny nods, and the boat sputters to life, pulling away from the dock and into the night.
Dante
Alex and I arrive at Thompson Island by boat, greeted at the dock by an entourage of well-armed guards and arrogant men in overpriced suits. “Welcome, Mr. Hassem. We did not receive your rsvp for this evening,” says a man with a clipboard and an earpiece. He’s positioned between two heavily armed bodyguards, and he looks over his glasses at Alex, eyebrow raised.
“It was a last-minute decision. I had prior arrangements this evening that fell through, so I said, Why not see what one of these parties is all about?”
The man hums, rechecking the clipboard. “Ah, you’re on the approved list of guests. You may enter Mr. Hassem. Enjoy your evening.”
The gentleman steps aside, the bodyguards following suit. Alex moves first, stepping past them, giving them a nod, and I fall in step behind him. “Okay. The easy part is over with. Now we need to find Luna. The tents up here, just beyond the trees.”
