Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
Kenzie stared out the porthole into nothing.
The ditch bag was back in its hiding place beneath the berth. The light was still off. Outside, the night pressed against the glass, a thousand stars overhead.
It’d been thirty minutes since she’d spoken to the fisherman. Thirty minutes of holding the radio, willing it to crackle, willing his voice to return. Of wondering if she’d imagined the whole thing—if hope had made her hallucinate a lifeline that didn’t exist.
She pressed her forehead against the cool glass. Come on. Please.
No noise but the engine humming beneath her.
And then a voice.
She jerked upright.
“—you there? Can you—?”
The sound was audible, fighting through waves of interference, but it was him, the fisherman.
She brought the radio to her lips, keeping her words low, almost a breath. “I’m here. I’m here.”
“Reached him…gave me… On their way.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth, tears burning behind her eyes. Dad. Dad was coming.
“—lost you for a while,” the fisherman was saying, his voice cutting in and out. “…trying to get closer. Stronger signal. I think—”
A sound came from outside the cabin door.
Kenzie’s blood turned to ice.
She didn’t think. She launched herself onto the bed. Turned the radio off and shoved it between the mattress and the wall.
The door banged open.
Light from the corridor lit the man from behind, but she recognized the shape of him, the guard who’d grabbed her on the sidewalk outside her hotel. Who’d kept his meaty grip on her all the way here.
“Who were you talking to?”
“I was praying.”
He stepped inside, flicked on the light, and closed the door. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” Her voice shook with fear. “I couldn’t sleep. I was asking God to rescue me.”
He moved closer, and she shrank back, curling into a ball. The knife was in her pocket, the handle pressing against her thigh.
Not yet. Not unless you have to.
“Get up.”
“I don’t—“
“Get up.”
She had no choice. She could move, or he would move her.
Hide it, Lord, Please.
She rose and backed to the corner, as far from him as she could get. But the room was small. She was still within his reach.
Keeping one eye on her, he pulled the covers back and searched the bed. Didn’t find it.
Please, Father.
He glanced her way, and she thought he’d given up. But he must’ve seen something in her expression because he searched again. He pulled the covers off the bed entirely and shook them out. Then, he shoved his hand in the crack between the mattress and the wall.
It was futile now.
He turned, the radio gripped in his hand. He stared at it, then at her, and something ugly twisted his features.
“Where did you get this?”
“I found it in a bag under the—”
“Did you reach anyone?” He stepped closer, close enough that she could smell the cigarette smoke on his breath. “Did you talk to anyone?”
“No.” She shook her head, desperation creeping into her voice. “I tried, but no one answered. There’s no one out there. The signal—“
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. I swear.”
He grabbed her arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “If you contacted someone—if you told them where we are—”
“I don’t know where we are!” The fear in her voice wasn’t feigned. “How could I tell anyone anything? I’ve been locked in this room for—“
“Shut up.”
He didn’t ease his grip.
She could see it, the calculation behind his eyes. If he told the crew she’d had a radio, they’d change course. Speed up. Do something to throw off anyone who might be coming.
And her fisherman would lose her. Her father might never find her.
She’d be gone.
But would they blame him? Had he been responsible for making sure this berth was prepared for her? Maybe, maybe she had a chance.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice broke. “Please, I didn’t reach anyone. I just wanted to try. I wanted to hope. You understand the need to hope?”
Was she getting through to him? Did he believe her?
The look in his eyes shifted.
She recognized what she saw there. She’d seen it before in a dorm room, on a student she’d thought was a friend. A man who’d pinned her against a wall and told her exactly what he was going to do to her.
Fury and lust, tangled together like snakes.
“Maybe,” he said slowly, “I don’t have to tell anyone. Maybe you and I can keep this one little secret.”
He yanked her forward and tossed her onto the bed. He was on her before she could move, one hand pressing her shoulder down, his weight settling over her.
“Maybe you can convince me to keep quiet.”
She didn’t fight, didn’t give him any reason to believe she would. She let him think she believed he wouldn’t tell if she didn’t struggle. But she knew he would. She’d be lost again, and this time, she’d have no hope of being rescued.
He didn’t bother to restrain her hands as he shifted on top of her, straddling her.
She slid her hand down toward her pocket. Gripped the knife’s handle, shimmied it out of its sheath while he fought with the button on his jeans.
She pulled the knife free and didn’t hesitate.
The blade sank into the side of his neck, just below his jaw.
His eyes went wide—shocked and disbelieving. He lurched off the bed to his feet, hand flying to the wound.
Blood, so much blood, welling up between his fingers and spilling down his shirt.
He tried to speak. His mouth opened, closed. No sound came out except a wet gurgle.
She sat up and scooted back against the wall.
He stumbled backward, hit the wall, and slid down it. He sat, slumped, hand still pressed to his throat, staring at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes.
And then he wasn’t staring at anything at all.
Kenzie couldn’t move. She was frozen, the bloody knife clutched in her fist, her whole body shaking.
Oh God, oh God, oh God.
What do I do? What have I done?
She’d killed him.
The cabin was too small. The walls pressed in.
His blood was pooling on the floor beneath him, dark and spreading.
Someone would come looking for him. They’d find him. They’d find her, and they’d know what she’d done.
And then…and then what? What would they do to her?
Think, Kenzie. Think!
Lord, what do I do?
She forced herself to breathe. In through the nose. Out through the mouth.
Dad is coming. Help is on the way. I just have to stay alive until they get here.