Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104729 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 524(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Once I pull the drawers open, I rummage through each one, my fingers flipping through papers. The boat dips slightly, and my hand slips.
A boat must be docking next to us, making the yacht rock from its wake.
I look through more papers. Something has to be here. I’m in the bottom drawer when I knock on it and hear the echo—a false bottom. My fingers feel around, and I can feel a tiny protruding piece of wood. I carefully lift it, and the wood pops off.
Bingo.
I found it.
It might not be about the guns, but it has to be reliable intel my father can use.
With the false bottom exposed, I find a lockbox large enough to hold folders.
Grabbing the pin, I attempt to open it up when I fly backward.
What the hell? I grip the desk to keep my balance.
We are moving.
And not just from another boat. No, this boat … Alaric’s yacht is really moving. It’s as if we are no longer docked, and instead, we are taking a joyride.
With a deep inhale, I try to remain rational. It wouldn’t be so far-fetched to believe he was taking his guests out for a spin. The night is gorgeous. Maybe he wants to show everyone what his toy can do.
I wouldn’t put it past him. Maybe some bimbo asked him to.
But how long will this ride last, and will it affect my plans?
Shit. I need to get this open, find George, and then we need to abandon ship.
I head back to the desk and continue my pursuit. I’m sure we’ll dock again soon, and I need to make sure I’m down below when that happens.
It pops open, and I don’t even bother looking. I just grab my phone and start clicking the camera, taking pictures of the documents Alaric has hidden in the desk.
The boat turns again and starts to pick up speed.
Something isn’t right. It’s one thing to show off, but not like this.
I need to get out of here. I put the papers back in the box and close it then place it back in its spot, leaving everything the way it was.
Then I head toward the door.
It feels like my heart is beating out of my chest at the sight in front of me. There’s no knob. No door. It’s locked completely from the inside. I’m stuck, and I can’t get out.
I grab my phone to call George for help, but I have no service.
I don’t know what to do.
I bang on the wall, hoping a guest will hear and find me. I’ll explain I thought it was the bathroom and the door shut before I realized.
I continue to bang and bang, but no one comes.
Time stands still as I start attacking the door. No one is coming. The party music is too loud, and with my luck, they are probably driving around to light off some fireworks.
I’ll just have to wait until Alaric realizes I’m gone.
I feel sick to my stomach, but since the bathroom is next door, he might believe my story. I sit down on the couch, my feet starting to hurt from my shoes.
I flip through the pictures I took on my phone when I was in a rush to gather any evidence from the documents in his desk. It’s too small to read the text on the papers, so I enlarge the words on the first image I took.
What I see makes my fingers flick faster and faster.
It’s not a document. No, not at all.
It’s the same words typed over and over again. It feels like I’m living in a horror movie and I’m the star of the film.
We think caged birds sing when indeed, they cry.
John Webster? Why is there a quote from John Webster here? I keep reading, and the wind is knocked out of me with what I see next.
How do you like your cage, little dove?
My body trembles as my phone slips from my hand and crashes to the floor.
He knows.
8
Phoenix
This is bad.
Way worse than anything I had mentally plotted out in my head.
The boat is still moving, and I’m still locked in this room. There is no way this isn’t intentional.
They are driving out to sea to dump me overboard. The worst part, my phone is still not working, which leads me to believe they have something blocking the signal.
My father will never know what happened to me.
It won’t take a rocket scientist to know I’m dead, but he’ll never get the closure he deserves.
Now what do I? And another question is, where’s George? If I can get out of here and find him on the boat, we might have a chance.
If I was caught, there’s a good chance he was too. Maybe if I can get out of here and search the boat, I’ll find him, and we can come up with a plan.