“Remain incognito. I’ll see you soon and be car—” But he soon stops himself.
Telling me to be careful would mean he cares, and that’s just too much for both of us to deal with right now. We both turn away from one another and head in opposite directions.
My appetite is now shot, so I place the remnants of my dessert into the trash and go on the hunt for some supplies. Someone packed my clothes, and I dare say that someone was Willow. She knows firsthand what somebody on the run needs and has packed the essentials.
But it won’t be enough as I don’t know how long I’ll be at sea.
There are no Gap or Old Navy stores in sight, but the stalls are well stocked with local products. Perusing the different stands, I purchase a pair of jeans, some denim shorts, T-shirts, and some cotton underwear.
A red swimsuit catches my eye as I pass by a stall. The older lady notices me eyeing it and quickly pulls it off the hanger. She offers it to me with a smile, speaking to me in a language I don’t understand.
There are no changing rooms, so I hold it up against my body and look into the full-length mirror in front of me. Once upon a time, I’d have no problems wearing this. But now, all I can think about is how much skin will be exposed.
My confidence has been ruined, which is why I decide to buy it. Even though the yacht has AC, it’s stuffy when I occasionally venture outdoors. I don’t want to tan, but some vitamin D may be beneficial for my health.
I also buy a sheer white sarong, as this will help with the anxiety I feel at being so exposed.
The rest of the stalls have beautiful fragrant handcrafted soaps and perfumes. Even though there is soap on the yacht, I can’t pass by the lovely bars of lavender and lemongrass and purchase two of each. There are stunning perfume decanters crafted with what looks like fine glassware.
I open each stopper and smell the utterly enchanting samples. Each fragrance is earthy, warm, sweet, and I love how local produce has been used to handmake each scent. I buy three bottles, smiling when the man kisses both my cheeks in gratitude.
With my hands filled with shopping bags, I see that I have fifteen minutes to spare. I couldn’t possibly purchase anything else, but my stomach grumbles, hinting the shopping spree can end with some delicious local cuisine.
I walk toward a food cart, intent on buying whatever those dough-looking things are in the window but yelp when someone grips my wrist.
“We need to go. Now.” Alek’s firm tone has me nodding quickly as I know something is wrong.
I hide behind my hair and keep my eyes peeled to the ground as we walk briskly through the crowd. Alek still has a secure grip on me, almost dragging me toward the yacht. I exhale in relief when we practically run up the ramp, watching as Alek frantically gets everything in order.
“Go into the bedroom!” he orders, and I do as he says because his urgency warns me that something dire looms.
I’m shaking so badly when I enter the bedroom that the bags rattle in my hands. I place them in the corner of the room before drawing the curtain an inch so I can look out the window. I don’t see anything out of place. All looks calm until, in the distance, I see three men in uniform come running through the crowd.
My heart threatens to rip from my rib cage as they get closer and closer to the stationary yacht. They’re shouting words I don’t understand with phones pressed to their ears as they point our way.
Finally, the motor kickstarts to life and moves so quickly, I hold the wall to keep my balance. This doesn’t deter the men. They seem to increase their speed before jumping into a speedboat, and although I don’t read Latvian, it’s clear by the writing on their boat that they’re the police.
We have a good head start, but their boat is smaller and faster than ours. At this rate, they’ll catch up to us in no time. I need to do something. I refuse to hide.
Using the walls for support, I exit the bedroom and grip the staircase railing as I frantically climb the stairs to the upper deck. I’m nearly at the top when the yacht hits choppy waters, and I almost