His accent was thick. I guessed he was angry again. “Tell me.”
I could feel his eyes on my neck, maybe surveying the damage there. I was just grateful he hadn’t made another attempt to touch me. The idea of being touched by anyone ever again was enough to make me retch.
I looked at Charlie, too. He was no longer covered in filth. He’d changed his clothes to a button-down green shirt and jeans. It frightened me to realize I could have been out for that long.
“Even though Ben told him to leave you be…” His voice trailed off. “Wallace thought you were too much of a risk to leave to chance.”
I turned away and shut my eyes. I knew what had happened next. Tears rolled down my face when I remembered my fear and helplessness—how brief the pain had been.
“Hey.” I heard him swallow. “I’m, ah, sorry.” He sounded heavy. “That son-of-a-bitch…”
“Please.” I cut him off. “I just want to go home.”
He stood up and backed into the dark corner. When I was sure he was away, I felt brave enough to look at him again. Those slouching shoulders of his and the thumbs that dug into his pockets revealed more than he wanted to say.
“B-by the time I got there, Wallace woulda come back to finish you off. Didn’t have much choice, did I?” He stuttered through the whole explanation. And although I only caught about half of what he was saying, it was enough to make the blood in my body feel like sludge.
“Charlie.” It was the first time I had spoken his name out loud. It sounded like a foreign language within itself. I saw him stiffen and raise his head in my direction. Carefully, I slipped my legs off the bed and tested my weight on the floor. If I hadn’t known any better, I would have said it was moving, but there was no way that could have been true. “What are you saying to me?”
He hesitated again. “We gotta make a delivery to Singapore in six days. I—we didn’t know what to do, so we brought you with us.”
Although I heard the words, my brain wouldn’t digest them. It was as though he was just saying random things strung together to make noise—what he was explaining couldn’t possibly be real. I was going home, wasn’t I? My breath became shallow and rapid and for an instant I felt as though I were having an asthma attack. He must have seen my panic because his arms stretched out, his hands pointing downward. “Just—just relax now.”
“No. No. No. Where am I?”
I detested the way he straightened himself out and stood so rigid. There was no hesitation now. “The Diyu,” he answered. “A freighter just south of Canada.”
“Wh-what?”
“Like I said, Wallace was ‘bout to kill you when I came in. I did all but rip his arms off but Ben and Reid had me back long enough that he crawled out the back.”
I covered my ears with my hands. My head was pounding and I didn’t want to hear anymore, but he kept on talking. If I didn’t hear, then maybe I could make it untrue; maybe I could make it go away.
“You wouldn’t wake up and we had port to make…” His voice trailed off, but it still stayed tight; rough along the edges.
“Then why didn’t you just leave me there?” I screamed. “Or just leave me at a hospital somewhere?”
He shrugged. “‘Cause we all kinda figured you’d die, and nobody wanted a murder charge.”
I stifled a gasp. I didn’t want to think of myself with murder, particularly as a murder victim. The entire concept made me shudder.
“No,” I said firmly. “This is not happening. No, no, no, no, no.”
He laughed. Again I couldn’t believe it, thought I must have misheard the sound, but when I looked up, he was smiling.
“That’s a real funny way to say ‘thank you.’”
I took my hands from my head. In the moment, the anger steadied me. I narrowed my eyes, trying to strike him down by sheer force of will.
“Excuse me?”
“Well, I did save your life and all.” His smile widened.
My initial analysis had been incorrect. Here I was thinking that I was crazy for finding this person attractive, and then arguing with him, and even willingly conversing with him, suffering from the early stages of some madness. It was made clear to me now that I was the only sane person in the room.