Enslaved By The Ocean (Criminals Of The Ocean #1)

  “I am,” he yawns.

  The sun is just setting over the horizon, and the cool evening air is coming in. I lie back on the other lounge, and sigh deeply.

  “God, I don’t want to go back to work,” he murmurs.

  “No,” I moan. “I don’t want to find a place and think about life again.”

  “At least it’s in a new place. It’ll be fun.”

  “Truth,” I yawn. “I’m hungry. I could use a big juicy steak right about now.”

  Eric grunts. “You’re such a man sometimes.”

  “Hey,” I giggle. “It’s perfectly okay for women to like meat.”

  “Yeah,” he laughs. “Maybe John has some for us.”

  “He has everything in the fridge. The man is well worth the money I paid.”

  I close my eyes and stretch, sighing deeply. I’m just about to drift off into a late afternoon nap when Eric’s sun lounge creaks loudly beside me.

  “Do you smell that?” he says.

  I take a deep breath in, and scrunch my nose. My eyes flicker open.

  “Smells like…smoke?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  Suddenly he’s on full alert, looking around. His eyes widen, and he quickly gets off his lounge. I turn, concerned, and see a puff of grey smoke coming from downstairs.

  “John!” Eric yells.

  John comes rushing out of his office just as the yacht’s alarms sound. With wide eyes, John swings the door to the cabin open and rushes down. Eric and I both run over just in time to see him open a passage at the back of the yacht. Thick grey smoke pours out, followed by flames.

  “Oh God,” I whisper, clutching Eric.

  “Get in the lifeboat,” John yells, running back up toward us. “The engine is on fire. I had someone work on it recently because it was playing up, I thought it was fixed, I’m so sorry. It’s very dangerous, if it breaks into the gas line, it’ll blow. I need to get you both to safety before I see what it is.”

  Without even an argument, Eric and I run towards the lifeboat at the edge of the yacht. We climb in and pull the chain as instructed, and the boat lowers. When we hit the water, Eric uses the paddles to push us a little away from the yacht. As we float, eyes wide, we watch John running around frantically with his radio. He’s calling “Mayday, mayday,” and we both know that means emergency. Something has gone wrong in the engine, and it’s obviously on fire.

  “Should we get him off the yacht?” I ask, frantically.

  “No, he knows what he’s doing,” Eric says, gripping my hand.

  “I’m scared, Eric.”

  “It will be okay, it’s probably just an engine…”

  We hear a loud boom, and then we see the smoke thicken. John rushes down, and Eric stands quickly, yelling for him to stop. He doesn’t. He goes below deck and then, for the longest moment, we hear nothing.

  “We should go back,” I cry, standing too.

  “No,” Eric says, gripping my shoulder. “If it blows…”

  “We can’t leave him in there, that smoke will kill him!”

  “It’s his yacht, he knows what he’s doing. We can’t go in there.”

  “But…”

  “If it blows,” Eric yells, “we die.”

  “If we leave him there, he dies!”

  “Indigo, there’s nothing you can do right now. Getting in his way will only cause a problem.”

  I drop back down, wrapping my arms around my stomach and trembling. I feel sick. How did we end up here? Five minutes ago, we were chilling and enjoying the afternoon. Now, we’re sitting in a rescue boat, wondering what the next few minutes will hold.

  “Hey,” Eric says, dropping down beside me. “It’s going to be okay. He’s probably just going to put the fire out and wait for help.”

  “He hasn’t come back out.”

  “He will.”

  I stand, shaking. I was taught never to leave someone behind, and I can’t just sit here and wait. It’s not right. He could be hurt.

  “I’m going to get him, he could have passed out, or worse…”

  “No,” Eric says, gripping my arm. “It’s dangerous.”

  “I’m not leaving him, Eric!” I scream. “This isn’t your choice to make.”

  I lunge forward, and that’s when it happens. The explosion. I’m just gripping the paddles to row back toward it, when we hear the ear-shattering blast. Flames roar out from below deck, and black smoke fills the sky. I know I’m screaming, and I know Eric is pulling me back as I try to fight forward. I squirm in his arms, begging and panting. Fire roars up onto the deck, and right before our eyes the yacht begins to crumble. How can something burn down in the middle of a bed of water? It’s cruel.

  “Please,” I rasp. “Eric…”

  “He’s gone,” he whispers. “He couldn’t have survived that. Indigo, we have to paddle away. If that thing blows more…we die too.”

  “Help will come,” I whisper, shaking. “We can’t go far.”

  “We have to row back!”

  “No, Eric!” I scream.

  “Indigo, look at me!” he yells, spinning me around. “You have to trust me right now.”

  “He could be alive!”

  “Do you see those flames?” he bellows. “He’s not alive.”

  “Eric!”

  He pulls me down and into his arms, tucking me into his chest. “You have to trust me. Hush, Indigo.”

  I close my eyes, and tears stream down my face. It hurts. It hurts so badly I want to throw up. My entire body shakes, and I clutch Eric like he’s the only thing keeping me alive. I guess right now he is. I hear more small explosions, and I clench my eyes harder together. I don’t want to open them. I can’t. I just hold onto Eric and try to push out the horror happening right in front of me.

  Eventually, that horror becomes too much.

  I black out.

  Yo’ ho’ - A pirate’s life for me.

  Two days we’re on that water; two long days. Eric made the mistake of rowing us too far out, and we lost sight of the yacht. We waited each day for a chopper, or a rescue boat. None ever came. We floated, with no food, no water, and no sun protection. My skin began to peel off at the end of the first day. Eric gave me his shirt to try and cover my skin, but I ended up giving it back when I saw his skin beginning to blister.

  Two days without water in the blazing sun, and my throat is sore, dry, and burning. My body is weak. My skin is burned. My heart aches. I’m frightened, for my life and Eric’s. We have no escape. Unless someone finds us…but what if they don’t? Oh God, what if this is it for us? I don’t want to die like this. It’s not how it’s meant to go. I’m meant to grow old, and have children. Not become a rotting bag of bones on a stranded boat in the ocean. We have my phone with me, but it has no service out here, and the battery has long died.

  On the evening of day two, Eric and I are curled together, trying to protect each other from the cool evening breeze, when suddenly the boat begins to rock. It’s only a light, gentle rocking, but it’s movement. We both lift our heads to see a mass of lights coming toward us. It’s a ship. It has to be. We both bolt upright and get to our feet, our legs wobbling. My heart begins to thump. Oh God, is it a rescue ship? Are we saved? The relief that floods my system, as I lift my hands and start yelling in a croaky voice, is huge.

  “Is it a ship?” Eric rasps, his voice dry and crackly.

  My eyes burn from too much salt and too little water, but I squint and as it nears closer, and I can see it is. “Yes.”

  “I know,” he croaks “But what kind of ship?”

  “Does it matter?”

  He grunts angrily. The last few days haven’t been easy on our friendship. When faced with life and death, anyone would become overly stressed. I drop to my knees, feeling my heart hammer. This is our chance to get help. We’ve been out here two solid days and there’s a ship heading in our direction. I won’t be letting it pass. Eric moves about, and our tiny lifeboat rocks. I lift my sore, aching arms and b
egin flashing the little light from my life jacket.

  Suddenly a large light turns and points in our direction. I squint and cover my eyes. They’ve seen us. Help has arrived. Oh God, we’re going to survive this. My knees buckle and I fall, relief flooding me. Eric continues to yell and wave the flashlight around. From this angle, the light isn’t piercing my eyes, and so I can see what he can’t, and when I see it, my blood runs cold. It’s a flag…but it’s not a country flag, or a navy flag, no…it’s a skull and crossbones. My stomach lurches, and it takes me a moment to gather my bearings enough to reach for Eric’s leg and pull at him, bringing him down to my level.

  “What the hell, Indi?”

  “Th-th-th-the…”

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, confusion washing over his features.

  “Th-th-the flag. They’re pirates.”

  “What?”

  “John said…he said…there were pirates out here. Oh God, Eric, they’re pirates.”

  He shakes his head in confusion, so I lift my wobbling hand and point toward the ship that’s now coming closer. His eyes narrow, and then I see fear fill his eyes. He reels backwards, fumbling for something to paddle us away. Anything to get us out of here. Deep down in my terrified soul, I know we’ll never outrun a ship like that. We have only two options—jump overboard, or let them capture us. Right now, both could possibly mean death, it just depends which death we want. Maybe they won’t hurt us. Maybe they’ll just let us go, or leave us here?

  No. They’re pirates. Everyone knows that’s not how it works.

  I clutch Eric, terrified. My heart is beating so heavily it hurts, and my body is tingling all over, fear and panic wash through me. The urge to flee, to run, and to save myself is huge…yet there’s nowhere to run to. Eric’s eyes are darting, and he quickly flicks the flashlight off. His body shudders and for a long moment, all we can see is darkness. Our breathing is the only sound I can hear until the ship comes closer, and waves begin to lap against the boat. My heart hurts, it aches so badly I want to rip it out just to stop it. This is like a nightmare, except I can’t wake up. I can’t do anything but pray to God these pirates aren’t awful.

  “We should jump over,” Eric whispers.

  “And die?” I hiss.

  “We’re going to die if they get hold of us!”

  “We can’t be sure of that.”

  “It’s too dangerous!” he growls.

  I can’t answer, because the light swings our way and falls directly on our boat as the large ship stops beside us. I can’t see a damn thing; all I can see is the blinding light. I hear voices, and then I hear the sounds of ladders rolling down. I whimper, and clutch Eric closer. I clamp my eyes closed, wanting to drown it all out, wanting to take myself away from this fear. I feel Eric flinch, and then I hear the ragged, angry voice fill my ears.

  “Get on the ship.”

  The raspy, deadly voice causes ice to run through my veins. I open my eyes and see a man hanging off the ladder, glaring at us.

  “Please, we don’t want any trouble,” Eric whispers.

  “Shut up, get on the fuckin’ ship.”

  “Just leave us here, we’re just…”

  The man pulls out a long, rusty sword, and thrusts it toward Eric’s face. He yelps and leaps backwards, knocking me over. I cry out as my sunburned back hits the side of the boat.

  “Get on the fuckin’ ship, now.”

  Eric puts his hands up, trembling. “Okay, okay.”

  He wobbles as he edges toward the ladder. The pirate grips his arm, hurling him over until he’s dangling like a floppy dog off the ladder, one hand grabbing it desperately. His screams rip through me, and I wrap my arms around myself. The pirate shoves at him, forcing him to climb the ladder, and then he turns to me. He’s an older man, with a long, bushy beard and thinning grey hair. He crooks his finger, and I don’t dare argue. I walk forward, reaching out and taking the ladder in my hands. He grips my shoulder, causing me to cry out as his fingers cause my burned skin to protest angrily. He keeps hold of my shoulder as we climb, and when we step over the side he shoves me forward.

  I crash into Eric, hard. He wraps protective arms around me, and I’m grateful. I blink my eyes, letting them adjust to the twenty or so men surrounding us. I let my gaze scan them all, and I’m surprised to find them…clean. Well, they’re not clean as such, but they’re certainly not what I expected. It doesn’t make them any less deadly though. Every one of them has a hard, angry expression. They all hold a weapon of some sort. Swords. Knives. Guns. I tighten my grip on Eric and watch the older man who grabbed us, walk toward the door that goes down below deck. He flicks it open and yells down.

  “Cap’n. CAP!”

  Wait. He’s not the Captain? I swallow, and I feel Eric flinch beside me. I get a quick glance at the massive ship, but I don’t take a great deal of notice, my body is too terrified. The old man turns, walks over to us, and stops, sword out, ready for action. He leans down, letting his eyes scan over both of us, as if weighing up if we should live or die. Then his eyes harden and he growls, “Get on the fuckin’ floor.”

  “Please,” Eric pleads.

  He shoves the sword towards Eric’s throat, slicing a line just thin enough to cause a trickle of blood to fall. I drop to my knees, terrified. Eric drops beside me, hand clutching his throat, his eyes wide with shock.

  “Head to the floor!” The pirate barks.

  We both lower ourselves until our heads touch the dirty, smelly deck. Then we just lie there, waiting.

  “Where you from?” The pirate asks, a moment later.

  “A…A…America,” I rasp.

  He chuckles, and I peer up enough to see him turning toward the door. I hear the sound of boots, and then I see the door creak open. I close my eyes, turning my face towards the ground. I can’t face this. God, what if they rape me? Or slowly torture us? Or sell us? There are so many ways this could go. I hear the deck creak as the Captain walks towards us. When that creaking stops, I hold my breath. Is this it? Will he just raise his gun and shoot us? Perhaps he’ll cut us, and throw us overboard to bleed out?

  “Where the fuck did you get these two?”

  His voice…it’s so…young. I want to look up, but my body is frozen with fear.

  “They were on a boat, screamin’ and carryin’ on.”

  “They alone?”

  “Yeah, just the two of them.”

  It’s silent a moment, and I hear Eric shuffle beside me before attempting to speak. “We were on a yacht and…”

  “Did I give you permission to fuckin’ talk?” the Captain barks.

  Eric flinches again, and promptly stops speaking. Silence fills the air, and all I can hear, is my own ragged terrified breathing.

  “You, girl, look at me.”

  Oh God, he’s talking to me. Hot tears fill my eyes and I slowly raise my head. What I expect to see, and what I actually see, are two very different things. It takes me a solid moment to realize that the man I am looking at is actually a pirate. In my head, I had an image of an old, smelly man…but him…oh…he’s breathtaking. Even in my fear, I can’t move my eyes from him. It’s impossible to look away. It’s impossible to believe that somebody that looks like him would be in a place like this.

  He’s tall, that’s the first thing I notice. His large, six-foot frame would overpower most men. He’s a mass of solid muscle; and his large arms are covered in black, celtic tattoos. He’s wearing a pair of ragged, black jeans, a gun and sword belt, and a black singlet that stretches across his large, chiseled chest. I can see a mass of thick, long black hair peeking out from under the red bandana he wears on his head. When I settle on his eyes, I suck in a deep, raspy breath. They’re so dark they look black, yet they’re so utterly beautiful and captivating. His face is covered in stubble, and he’s got jewelry in both his ears. A thick, gold chain hangs around his neck. He’s dazzling, but like the rest of them, he looks incredibly deadly.

  For the longest moment he holds my gaz
e, until finally he speaks. “What are you doin’ out on the ocean?”

  I swallow and open my mouth to answer, but my voice doesn’t want to work.

  “Answer me, girl,” he barks.

  “We were on a yacht,” I croak. “It caught fire and we got on a lifeboat, but Eric…I mean…it drifted away and we ended up trapped.”

  He reaches up, running his fingers over the dark stubble on his cheeks. The older pirate steps up beside him and leans down, whispering something in his ear. The captain’s eyes widen, and he turns his gaze to me, letting his eyes slide up and down my body. Nodding, as if impressed, he turns and says something to Old Man Pirate, and they both nod.

  “You, come here,” he says, crooking his finger at me.

  Eric lashes out, gripping my wrist as I move to get up. “She’s not going anywhere near you.”

  The Captain turns his gaze to Eric, and then lifts his hand and clicks his fingers. Two pirates appear behind Eric, and one of them hits him so hard his face is smashed into the deck. I get to my knees, crying out and reaching out for him. A hard set of arms curl around mine, and pull me back. I watch as two pirates lift Eric, one on each arm, and begin dragging him toward the large door leading down to the lower deck.

  “Let him go, please,” I beg.

  I’m spun around until I’m facing the captain. His fingers dig into my shoulders and I cry out, squirming.

  “Shut your fuckin’ mouth and walk.”

  He shoves me forward, and I force my legs to move, even though they feel like they’re filled with lead.

  “Where are we takin’ the boy, Hendrix?”

  Hendrix. Hendrix. Hendrix. That’s his name?

  “Take him to the holding cells, I’ll deal with him soon. I’m takin’ the girl first, need some info outta her.”

  Info. What sort of info? Why would he want info out of me?

  I feel his hand push my back again, and I don’t dare argue. When I reach the large door, I peer down. Old, wooden stairs are all I can see. I take a step, and then another, and another, until I’m at the bottom. I peer around the large ship, quite surprised at its size. The first level basically consists of a long hall with doorways branching off from each side. I am shoved again, so I take another step. As I move down the halls, I catch a glimpse of the small, bunker rooms on the side. I see a large room through one of the doors that seems to be a dining hall. I reach a shut door at the end of the hall, and Hendrix reaches around me, gripping the handle and flinging it open. He shoves me, and I stumble forward.