While at sea, we worked six and a half days a week. It so happened that my lousy five hours off was in port, and I jumped at the chance to explore a vibrant city.” Her eyes hazed over with memory. “I heard the ship’s horn sound, warning for passengers to be on board to depart, just as I was stuffed in the back of a van. They took me to some warehouse that smelled of old fish and…”
When she didn’t continue, I filled in the blanks myself. I’d lived those blanks and didn’t need her to speak. “I’m sorry.” I squeezed her fingers, looking again at our matching tattoos.
They might have been the same operation or totally different, but either way, our similar ink granted a strange kind of sisterhood. The oddest friendship bracelet any two friends had shared.
“I’m sorry too...” She moved back a little, giving me space to shrug into the robe, tie the belt, and grab a hairbrush. “That you didn’t make it to safety.”
“It was a one in a million chance I would.”
Backing up, she reclined against the wall. “I don’t know. You were pretty smart. The supplies you gathered would’ve lasted a week or so. You could’ve gotten far with that amount of time.”
My eyebrows shot up. “How…?” I stopped brushing. “How did you know?”
She smiled gently. “I know most things that go on around here.” Dropping her gaze to the tiles, she added, “Just like I know that Sullivan is cracking.”
“Cracking?”
“You’re not like the rest, Jinx.” Her eyes followed my arm as I struggled to drag the brush through my shipwrecked tangles. “Not to him at least.”
“Does that bother you?” I asked quietly. “That there’s something…between us.”
She shook her head adamantly. “Of course not. I’m not in love with him.” Her hazel gaze twinkled. “However, I suspect you might be.”
I dropped the brush. “Me?” I blushed, ducking to pick it up after clattering on the tiles. “No. Just…misguided. Misled. Stupid. Idiotic.” I sighed, resuming my brushing but turning my back so I faced the mirror. Not that it concealed any of my truth, the mirror reflecting my flush of shame.
“Why did you run?” Her gaze remained on mine.
“Didn’t you run, once upon a time?” I shot back.
She spread her hands in surrender. “Do I sound weak if I admit I never tried?”
“No.” I sighed, keeping eye contact. “Because I know your family didn’t treat you well. You found a better existence here, so why would you leave?”
“Others would ask why would I stay? Why allow men I have never met and will never see again to fuck me when I could be free.”
It was my turn to shrug. “Sex is the oldest profession in the world.” I forced a chuckle. “Some might say it’s a sound employment choice.”
She laughed too. “Perhaps. Or…I don’t see the sex as a deal-breaker when Sullivan gives us so much in return.”
With my hair sleek and long down my back, I placed the brush on the vanity and turned to face her. “I ran because I have feelings for him that I don’t want to feel. That I shouldn’t feel. That are totally moronic when I take into account how I met him, why I’m here, and the circumstances in which he keeps me.” My confiding revelation spilled out. “I feel like I’m some silly statistic in a newspaper. Girl gets kidnapped. Girl falls for kidnapper. Girl is blind to reality. Girl gets killed for being an idiot.”
Jealousy pursed her lips, nodding as if she totally agreed with me. “But what if it’s the same for him?”
I froze.
My heart ceased mid beat. “What did you say?”
She pushed off from the wall, padding toward me. She wore a simple baby blue summer dress, short and floaty, making her seem young and far too innocent for our sensual subjection. “I mean…what if he’s fighting the same things you are?” She took my hand, urgency filling her pretty face. “Jinx…there’s something you should know. The diamond that he gave you…from the man you slept with last week—”
“Jessica,” a seethed snarl came from the door, ripping both our heads up. “I suggest you silence yourself before I do it for you.”
Sully stood with his arms crossed, glowering at both of us.
We jumped apart as if we’d been caught doing something illicit, our shared friendship that’d sprung from tentative to steadfast, a glowing string between us. I’d rowed away from an acquaintance but had flown back to find a trustworthy confidant.
A confidant who