Elena covered her ears when gunfire erupted.
This isn't the 18th Century! This is real! As she dared to lower her hands, Elena realized that it's just a matter of time before the 21st-century pirates start plundering the small yacht.
This was supposed to be a pleasure cruise, something Elena needed after her messy breakup with Matt. Elena lowered the toilet lid soundlessly and sat down, stuffing her knuckle in her mouth to keep as quiet as possible.
If only the captain had known that just a few hours later, a small boat would appear on the horizon. Easy-going by nature, Captain Parker had assumed it was just another ship. When it appeared to be drifting aimlessly in the water, he set a course to offer assistance.
When the yacht got close enough to see some of the men on board the smaller craft, Elena hustled below deck as quickly as possible. She looked around but knows that staying put is a recipe for disaster. Perhaps the pirates are so busy exploring the other parts of the boat looking for valuables that she can sneak into her stateroom, slip out one of the small doors, and up a side ladder. She could then jump over the side and tread water until the pirates leave. Surely they won't take both boats...
The sudden sway of the boat drew Elena's attention. Her breath catches at the echo of more footsteps.
"Raven!" someone shouts in a Spanish accent.
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing here?" another voice replies.
Elena hears the voices above her. She's shocked to realize that the second one sounded very American. Yet the voice was assertive and confident. There was raucous laughter and then the first guy spoke again. "Raven is jealous because he got here too late to claim any spoils for himself."
Elena heard the sarcasm dripping from the man's voice. "There's nothing here for you, Raven." He breaks out in a peal of laughter.
His laugh sent shivers down Elena's spine. "I seriously doubt that the simpleton and his shrewish wife who used to own this boat were carrying any guns or illegal drugs."
"You're right, Marcel," the second man replied in a threatening voice.
"I'm wasting my time here. Nicklaus is expecting me with a shipment, and you know how he hates to be kept waiting."
The voice Elena identified as Marcel laughed again. "Do you think I give a rat's ass if Niklaus is upset?"
Elena heard footsteps above her as Marcel must have been pacing around the deck. "In fact, although this wasn't exactly part of my plan, your presence here may not be such a bad thing, after all, Raven."
"What are you getting at, Marcel?"
Another evil chuckle. "Well, now that I've got myself a larger boat, I just may need to relieve you of some of that cargo. It would be a shame to let all this wonderful storage space go unused, don't you think, Raven? And I just happen to have some contacts that wouldn't mind dealing with me instead of Niklaus."
"You're an even bigger fool than I thought, Marcel." Raven's voice was full of contempt. "You won't live long enough to enjoy the money you get from selling this stuff once Niklaus finds out you're cutting in on his action."
"You'll never live long enough to tell him about our little encounter today, Raven," Marcel growled. "Kai has a price on your head."
Elena caught her breath again when she heard the click of guns being cocked. There were slow footsteps, and then Raven spoke again. "And are you telling me that you're here to collect it?"
There were a few moments of awful silence, and then a third voice shouted, "Raven! Behind you!"
Elena covered her ears again as gunshots rang out over the serene Caribbean. This has to be some kind of nightmare... The quiet came more quickly this time, but then it was broken by the low roar of a boat's engine.
There were more shouts and then Elena heard the third man again. "Marcel is getting away, Raven! Do you want us to follow?"
"No. Let Niklaus deal with him. When he finds out Marcel has designs on his empire, it won't be pretty."
Elena heard low chuckles of agreement and then the man called Raven growled some commands in guttural Spanish that she didn't understand. This is your chance, Elena. Maybe while they're all busy looking around on deck, you can still make a run for it. That Marcel man sounds like he's gone. Maybe this Raven guy won't even stick around, he might just leave in a hurry if he's really got a price on his head...
Elena slowly and quietly unlocked the door of the bathroom and slipped out into the hallway. She crept towards one of the staterooms, carefully listening for any signs that someone was coming below deck. When she grabbed the knob, turned it to let herself in, and then locked the door behind her, she heaved a sigh of relief.
So far, so good.
She was tiptoeing across the room when she heard the noise and froze in her tracks. There were loud splashes and Elena instinctively knew what had made the sound. The new pirates were throwing people overboard. Nausea gripped her but Elena took deep, calming breaths, trying to keep her head. As she made her way to the door of the cabin leading to the deck, she caught sight of herself in the small mirror of her parents' dresser.
Geez, Elena, take a look at yourself. Isn't this what every modern young lady wears when pirates hijack, pillage, and murder the passengers? After having breakfast, Elena had gone below deck and changed into a bright yellow bikini. She had been working on her tan when the captain had set course towards the small craft and the criminals that eventually robbed him of his life.
Elena considered going through the dresser for some clothes to protect her from the sun. But then, she heard footsteps on the stairs leading down from the deck, and she abandoned her plan. She sprinted towards the door and was already through it and in another corridor by the time a man came inside.
She took the steps to the upper deck two at a time, anxious to put as much distance as possible from herself and the man she heard behind her. The hot midday sun felt good on Elena's skin, but she didn't take the time to appreciate it as she flattened her body against the side of a bulkhead.
When she finally had the courage to peek up over the top, she got a glimpse of the pirates. What was it Marcel said about their leader? Guns and illegal drugs? As Elena watched, several men in tank tops and jeans moved briskly around the boat. They were opening hatches, obviously searching for something of value before they left. When Elena looked beyond the men, she could see the sails of another boat, a sleek schooner that was considerably larger than this one.
You're okay here, Elena. You can just stay here, and pretty soon they'll get tired of looking around. When they decide to get back on their own boat, you can just wait until they're out of sight, and then try to figure out how the hell to get this thing back to port...
But Elena's plans were dashed again when she heard a noise in the hallway she had just exited. Obviously, the man who had found the door she used for her escape. If she stayed where she was, he'd find her in about ten seconds. She looked around frantically, and then, taking a deep breath, she decided that her initial plan to go into the water was her only chance.
She peeked up over the bulkhead again and when she was sure that most of the men appeared to be occupied, she dashed as silently as she could for the side of the boat. Elena had never prayed so hard in her life, but just as she grabbed the side rail and put one foot up to heave herself overboard, she heard a hissing sound. There was a gentle breeze next to her thigh and then a loud "thunk" as a knife landed next to her foot. The seven-inch blade dug into the wood of the rail about two inches from her toes, and the handle still quivered with the force with which it was thrown.
Adrenaline surged through Elena's veins and she grabbed for the knife. At least, if she had to die, she would die fighting. She spun around knife in hand, to face her attackers, but then shrieked aloud when the knife went flying from her hand and clattered to the deck.
When she looked up to see who had kicked it away from her, Elena's blood froze. It had to be him...Raven. The dark-wash jeans he wore almost seemed like a second skin, clinging to his thighs, riding low on his hips, and fitting with almost indecent snugness around his crotch. He wore no shirt, and the sweat glistened on his muscled chest as it ran downwards to disappear into the jeans. A black shoulder holster held a lethal-looking handgun, and as she flinched, his hand reached up to grab the butt of it.
Whoever had come up with the nickname was good at describing people. When Elena moved, he did too and picked up the blade. He came closer to her, and she could see his features better without the sun glaring in her eyes. If she hadn't been so afraid that he was about to slit her throat, Elena might have actually thought he was handsome.
His well-defined cheekbones gave his face character. But it was his eyes that hypnotized Elena. They were blue, deep like the sea surrounding them. He was standing so close to Elena that she could see his eyes as they moved leisurely over her body, taking inventory of her assets that were displayed for the world in her bikini. It didn't take long for the rest of his crew to do the same, and Elena was snapped back to reality by the gruff catcalls and lewd whistles that came from behind Raven.
Elena felt the blush creeping up from her toes and knew that her cheeks were turning bright red. When she shifted her weight towards the rail again, Raven's right hand snaked out and locked around her left forearm like a manacle.
"Come on, Raven, we want a taste." One of the pirates approaches. He picks up a strand of her hair and brings it to his nose.
"Women are my treat when we reach Montserrat," Raven growled to his drooling crew. His eyes locked with Elena's and despite her resolve not to let him see her fear, she bit on her lower lip. "This flower is much too pretty for the likes of you..."
Something snapped inside of Elena at his words. She had never been that vocal of a woman's rights advocate, but his insinuation raised her hackles just enough to put a spark of gutsy defiance in her eyes. "Go to hell," she hissed through gritted teeth, trying to yank her arm free.
But Raven just gripped her tighter and pulled her against his chest, to the delight of his crew. "We're already in hell," he retorts, his lips brushing her ear.
Before she could say a word, he stepped back and then pulled her behind him as he made his way through the jeering crew towards the stairs to the lower deck. There were more salacious catcalls from his crew that made tears burn her eyes, but as Raven dragged her into the darkened corridor, she used her free hand to wipe briskly at her eyes.
She'd be damned before she let this animal see her cry. When they reached the hallway leading to the area where the bedrooms were, he stopped. "Which one is yours?" he asked and inclined his head towards the rooms.
Elena yanked her arm again but he held fast. "Does it make a difference?" she snarled. When he squeezed her arm again she grimaced and conceded. "That one," she whispered, indicating the room to the left.
He silently went to the door and opened it, shoving Elena inside with one movement. By the time she had regained her balance, he had closed the door behind them and locked it. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something to use as a weapon or another means of escape. There were no other doors, but there was a comb lying on the dresser that had a long handle that could serve as a crude dagger.
He read her mind. Raven was at her side before she could draw another breath. "Don't even think about it, lady," he hissed. Elena cringed at his nearness as his hand went to the hilt of the dagger again. "You'd never be able to hurt me as much as I could hurt you in return."
Her chin remained at a defiant tilt but he could see her bravado fading. "Good," he murmured, moving away again. He strolled towards the dresser and opened a few drawers, rummaging through them. After a quick search, he spun around and threw a pair of shorts and a tank top at her. "Put these on."
Elena was trying her hardest to ignore his command, but when a pair of canvas shoes landed with a loud "thunk" at her feet, she jumped. She had almost expected it to be the knife again, a punishment for her delay in obeying him. But when she folded her arms and still refused to comply with his directive, Raven came back to stand a hair's breadth away from her. "I said," he muttered in a grim voice, "put those on!"
She returned his glare, finding the inner strength somehow to defy him, she stands her ground.
Raven shook with the obvious effort to control his temper. But before he could reply, another loud splash echoed from outside. Elena shuddered and couldn't help but look over her shoulder towards the porthole.
"Why do you care?" Elena regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. His grip on her chin tightened and he came so close that her nipples brushed against his chest.
"I could have let Marcel take you; I still could, for that matter." He paused, letting the truth of his words sink in.
When her posture relaxes, Raven releases his grip on her shoulders. "Much better." Then he pulls her against him again, causing Elena to catch her breath. "From now on, when I ask a question, you answer it. When I give an order, you obey it. No questions asked." She closed her eyes but he squeezed her shoulders even harder. "Understood?"
Elena nodded once. Raven released her shoulders but didn't move away from her. "What's your name?"
She swallowed hard. "Elena Gilbert."
"What was your craft doing in these waters?"
"It was supposed to be a pleasure cruise. Just drifting around the islands without any real destination."
Raven turned and strode away from her, running his fingers through his hair. "They should have known better, then." He turned back to Elena, his hands on his hips. "Things have changed in the waters around Montserrat. The island has changed. A lot of unsavory characters use it as a home base now."
Elena lifted her chin, clutching the clothing to her chest. "You mean gun runners and drug dealers such as yourself..."
Raven inhaled sharply, his eyes flaring. "I told you that I would be the one asking the questions." He let out a long breath and nodded towards her clothing again. "Now put those on. We need to get going."
Elena stared into his eyes for a minute, but then her body relaxed. "I suppose since you're the only one allowed to ask questions, I couldn't suggest that you allow me some privacy to change?"
There was a pause, but then he gave her a half-smile that touched something inside and made Elena feel warm and liquid. "My mother did raise me to be a gentleman." He turned his back where he stood. "This is the best I can do, under the circumstances."
"It's better than nothing." There was a rustling sound as Elena quickly began shedding her bikini and slipping on the t-shirt. She wished that the change in wardrobe had included a bra, but thanked God when she found that Raven had at least had the decency to include a pair of panties. She was slipping into the pair of shoes when she spoke again. "I suppose it would be against your rules for me to know your name." She saw his shoulders tense at her words. "I mean, I heard that other guys call you Raven, but it's a little awkward."
There was a long pause, and then he took a deep breath and uttered, "Damon."
Fuck!
As Damon stood with his back to the fiery brunette, he swore subconsciously, using words that would have made even the most black-hearted of demons blush. This is just what you didn't need right now, Damon. You were so close. You could have met with Niklaus after this run, found out the name of the leak in Naval Intelligence, and then gone back to the States- for good. The case would have been closed, and you wouldn't have to live like this anymore.
He crossed his arms and inhaled deeply. Damon had to admit to himself that as far as undercover assignments went, this one really wasn't that bad.
He loved being on the sea, and after his father's never-ending attempts to urge Damon to follow in his footsteps and go to law school, playing the part of a gun-running scoundrel was too good to pass up.
If only Marcel hadn't involved civilians. Damon had a bad feeling about him ever since meeting him on Montserrat, but he thought that Niklaus had put enough fear into him to keep him under control. Obviously, that wasn't the case any longer.
Besides having a price on his head thanks to a misunderstanding with Kai, Damon also had to deal with a half-cocked, criminal-kingpin-wanna-be in the person of Marcel.
Damon heard the noises behind him and shifted his weight, trying to keep his thoughts on business. She was beautiful, alright. And in that bikini, it took all of his intestinal fortitude not to make good on his reputation and pull her into his arms to taste her full lips.
That's why he knew that the first order of business was to get some clothes on her. Miss Elena Gilbert was going to be enough of a distraction to him, even fully clothed. He didn't need her barely-covered breasts on display right beneath his nose.
You don't have a choice. You can't let her go. Raven wouldn't do something like that. You can't blow your cover just because some dimwit weekend sailor couldn't read the sea charts and sailed into dangerous waters. You'll have to take her with you. Raven would. Act like she's "your woman" until you arrive at Montserrat and get her to safety. That's it, take her to Padre Thomas on Montserrat. He'll get her back to the States. But until then...
Damon heard the noise behind him cease. When he turned around, Elena was standing meekly in the center of the room. He groaned inwardly at his stupidity for not finding a bra for her in the dresser. But when he glanced towards the porthole and saw the sun sitting low in the sky, he knew their time was running out.
"Good." Damon walked over and grasped Elena's hand, pulling her with him towards the door of the cabin. "Let's go."
She hung back but again, he was too strong for her. "Go? Where are we going?"
Damon opened the door to the hallway. He turned back to her and gave her a smile and a half bow. "I'll be your tour director today, Elena Gilbert. We're going to Montserrat."
"Montserrat? But you said it's dangerous there! You said there are drug dealers and convicts and all kinds of low life hanging out on that island!"
Damon dragged her down the hallway towards the steps to the top deck. He paused again at the foot of the steps to turn back to her. "You won't have to worry." His eyes traveled up and down her form again, making Elena feel even less clothed than she did when she was wearing the bikini.
"Nobody touches Raven's woman and lives to tell about it."
This is not mine. This is a very old- 10 years at least- long ago deleted story, although I don't think it was ever posted on ffn. I tried to reach out to the author but she seems to have deleted every trace of herself online.
Should I continue or delete it?