tell you to do?
“Are you going to cause me any problems?” Bossman decides it's finally time to approach me.
I’m running out of time.
Normally, I would make myself as small as possible, but there's only so much cowering I can do. There’s no way to tuck myself into a smaller ball. I look up with a trembling chin and tears streaming down my cheeks. The tears do nothing for Bossman, except tell him exactly what he wants. He terrifies me.
“Did he fuck you?”
I find it impossible to find my voice.
That's a lie. I have a whole hell of a lot I'd like to say right about now, but I'm too damn smart to let any of that out. He crouches down and gets in my space. Bossman displays dominance by physical intimidation. He did it to Shelly; now he’s doing it to me.
He presses the pad of his fat forefinger right between my eyes.
“I asked you a question.”
I give a shake of my head.
“Is that a yes? Or is that a no?” His deep voice rumbles and growls.
“N-no.”
“Good.” His mouth twists. “I’d hate to throw you overboard as well.”
Can’t help it. My lids draw back as a ripple of fear shoots through me.
Bossman tips his head back as he cackles. Laughter rips through him, but it’s cold and completely devoid of emotion.
He presses on his thighs and stands. “Gotta clean up this mess or we’ll be smelling Shelly’s stink for the next four days.”
Four days!
I practically shout with that small dribble of information. I’m on a ship for the next four days. That means I’ve got far more time than I realized.
With his back turned to me, I cast about my nearest surroundings. The room we’re in is a bunk room with a set of bunk beds built into the wall and two storage cupboards fixed to each end. There’s the tiniest crack between the bulkhead and cabinet, and it’s the perfect place to stash a knife. Before Bossman turns his attention back on me, I hide the knife and breathe out a huge sigh.
I’ve got four days to figure something out.
“Bet you won’t just sit there like a good girl.”
Cruel eyes focus on me and I can’t help the hitching of my breath.
“With Shelly gone, that’s going to complicate things. I’m not supposed to keep you chained up like an animal. My delivery instructions are quite specific, but I don’t think you’ll behave if I leave you free, and there’s no way I’m not chaining you up when I sleep. Tell me, Moira Stone, are you going to be a good girl? Or am I going to have to treat you like an animal?”
The lump that grows in my throat is massive, but I manage to swallow around it and find my voice. I’ll do, and be, whatever it takes to survive.
“I’ll be good.” My voice trembles and shakes and I almost make a fatal mistake. I almost look him square in the eye.
Bossman is a businessman, a slave trader, or transporter. Honestly, I don’t care what his job title is. He’s the one who communicates with his clients, and he covets the power they wield. I read every damn tell, and he’s telling me so damn much right now.
A song comes to mind. This is where my mind goes when the world messes with me. Instead of one hundred beers on the wall, I hum a little ditty in my head.
Three human traffickers to take down.
Three human traffickers to take down.
Bite a dick, shoot a prick,
One human trafficker to take down.
Let’s not judge my lyrical skills. I’m a bit stressed right now.
“And I guess I can’t get you to help with this mess.” He looks back at me.
I let my frightened eyes grow wider.
“Didn’t think so. You’re going to cost me a shit ton of money. I’d toss you over if I could.” He scratches at his head. “I’m going to lock you up. I’d ask the crew to help, but since they don’t know about you, that won’t work. So, you’re going to help me. Aren’t you?”
My brows pinch together with confusion. Why would I help him?
He snaps his fingers and points to the bunk.
“Grab that blanket.” When I don’t move, a feral growl catches in his throat.
One of the most terrifying sounds I’ve ever heard, it’s enough to practically levitate me off the floor. With a hand pressed against the wall for balance, I wobble on my feet and look to him for direction. I know what