Chapter 32: Pirate Ship
My head pounded violently, each sting continuously making my eyes water or squint. The air was cool, not as cold as it had been the last time I had been outside but not as warm as the ballroom I remembered ever so fiercely.
"Finally awake, huh?" I heard a deep voice say. His voice echoed throughout the room and I tensed up as I recognized the deep, dark, groggy voice I feared and despised. I couldn't feel my legs or arms, but my wrists and ankles hurt like hell. The tightness suffocating my hands and feet made me realize that I was tied up. And not in the fun way, if you know what I mean.
"What the hell do you want?" I asked, getting right to the point. If I knew anything about the man I was currently being kidnapped by, it would have to be that he was impatient and stubborn, which was something that the both of us seemed to share.
"Aww, Sarah, you know me too well." His footsteps got louder and I braced myself for a hit or something of the sorts. My eyes were shut tight, sealed with the fear and weakness inside of me. I felt nothing. No hit, no impact. No touch.
I took a peek at the world around me; the dark room, the swaying, the puddles of water, the rusty iron walls. All part of the pirate ship they'd stolen years ago. My eyes crawled from the iron bars in the corner and the dusty skeleton to the man I had feared for my whole life. He smiled slyly, his broad shoulders tightening as if my presence made him nervous. But I knew it didn't. It never did.
"Good. I thought you'd never open your eyes..." He mumbled. "It's been a long time, dear, since I saw you last. It's been what? Ten, twelve years?"
"Eight.." I murmured. He laughed as sighed, as if remembering the last time he saw me.
"You were so young back then, so innocent, so pure... and then you grew up. Tell me. How did you become so beautiful and intelligent in these last eight years? So stunning and elegant, but at the same time malicious and sinful?" I didn't speak. I just glared at him, blue eyes on gray ones, attempting to access the deepest fears of our souls. "Silent treatment, huh? Well, that won't be necessary when we get started, now will it?"
"What the hell do you want?" I repeated. I wasn't in the mood to play games. I was tired and sore and scared for not only my own safety, but for Roy's. Roy. Where the hell was he?
"What do I want? Well, I want a lot of things. Love. War. Villains taking over the world. That Cheshire girl falling in love with me. The Dark Angel coming back to life for the first time in six years."
I laughed. "The Dark Angel's dead. And she's never coming back."
"We'll just have to see about that..."
"Over my dead body." I glared and he smirked, like we did most of my life.
"Usually, I'd react diligently with a statement like that, but since you've pissed off most of my crew and I'm feeling awkwardly kind today, I'm letting everyone take a shot at you. In whichever way they like." He smiled and walked to the door, his footsteps echoing off the walls of the ancient boat. He stopped at the door, his hand floating just above the knob. He turned slightly, his eyes locking with mine as he spoke. "And just a warning. Most of these guys seem to have fallen for you. So don't expect guns or pipes or whatever the hell you're used to. Expect everything you're inexperienced at."
He left and I growled under my breath. All I could think about was how much of a bastard he was, allowing his men to rape a young woman like me. I could handle the guns and pipes and cold-metal weapons slicing my skin and bruising my cheekbones, but sexual harassment...that wasn't in my dictionary.
He was right. The Inexperienced part. I wasn't good at that stuff. Seducing men was a cup of tea, but this... this horror, wasn't anything I had really indulged in. For better or for worse.
The door opened and a young man walked in. His chestnut hair seemed freshly cut, the curls curling in different ways as if getting used to the new look. He smiled.
"Let me guess... I killed your wife in the last eight years and you want to get payback..." Of course, I had no clue who he was, nor did I know if he had ever been married, but I didn't want to listen or obey. I didn't want to be a pawn in the never-ending game against the "good" and the "bad." Or whoever the hell was fighting one another now-a-days.
"Haha. Very funny. No. Actually, you killed my best friend. In a club in London two years ago."
"Oh, so you want revenge on the person who killed him?"
"Her. But yes."
I smiled. "Oh! I remember now! The girl at the strip club. She could really work that pole, couldn't she?"
"Excuse me, but I think I'm the one who's supposed to talk, not you."
"But don't you want to find out my reason for killing her? Why I did it? Why she deserved it?"
"Because you were bored. You needed something to distract you from your pathetic life."
"No. I killed her because she was smuggling drugs and bombs across Europe. The day before I killed her she set off a bomb in Berlin. Killed over two-hundred people in a single apartment complex. One of those included a Spanish General who was due for a very important speech on claiming a suspicious archipelago in the Atlantic. The club was her last destination of the season. After she finished that routine on the bar she made her way to her car, which contained the trigger for the bomb she planted underneath one of the couches. That was until I stopped her and destroyed all evidence. The last thing we needed was for you to be linked up to the murder, am I right?"
"Who do you work for?"
"No one in specific. I have many employers. But, if you're asking for the person who sent me to kill whatever the hell her name is, I'll give you two words. Your Mother."
"You're not serious..." He mumbled.
"No. I'm pretty serious. She was concerned and her best friend was an ex-FBI agent who secretly went rouge and hired me. Simple. You might want to call her though. Say thank you maybe?"
He was stunned at my words. I smiled, satisfied that I was able to distract one person so far. I couldn't help but watch intently as he left with his mouth opened wide. I was proud with myself, in a weird and confusing way.
But I wasn't sure how many people I could distract or how long I could keep myself alive, or at least how long I could keep myself from having the possibility of bleeding out. With all the men that I remembered working with him, I wasn't sure if I'd make it out alive. But there was one thing that I had to do to make everything right. Keep Roy alive. If I failed, I would never forgive myself, even if I was dead by then. Keeping Roy alive was the best thing for everyone. And it was the least I could do to make up for my two years away from Patrick. The two years I had spent bowing down to Russian agents. And not to mention the two years I had missed with Madeline. And that was a lot in her lifespan. Unfortunately.