5. Really?
FIVE
REALLY?
WITNESS
Last night, I ended up watching my reality show until three in the morning. I couldn’t rest without finding out who won the million dollars and if Meridith, the snitch, got called out for her gaslighting.
She won. Go figure. Also, I’m never watching another one of these shows where mean people get rewarded.
But I guess that’s life, isn’t it?
I stretch out on the couch like my cat Tubby used to after sunbathing all morning by the window. It’s almost ten. If Fis let me sleep that long, it means he’s in a meeting, which means it’s Thursday. He has his meetings on Thursdays.
Oh, but I already know it’s Thursday, since now I’m allowed to watch television and check the date and time.
Why am I allowed to watch shows now?
Confused, I sit up and rub my face, trying to come to this morning, but I feel really tired from binging on TV last night. I plop back on the couch. The baby starts to kick, and I press my hand over the spot, imagining his little foot pushing against the wall surrounding it. I haven’t seen a doctor or anything, so I have no idea if it’s a boy or a girl, but I’m going with boy.
Not that it matters to me. All that matters is the months I’ve spent strengthening my resolve to keep him and call him mine.
Half asleep, I freeze when I see a man sitting across from me on the chair next to the couch, but quickly recognize it’s Shark when he smiles and offers me a cup of what smells like herbal tea.
“Good morning,” he says.
I rub my eyes as I sit back up and accept the offered cup. Chamomile tea. I identify the scent. I sip slowly, recalling yesterday’s events. Fis was in one of his agitated moods all day, mentioning that tomorrow’s (so today’s) videoconference was to take place early in the afternoon and that all phones and communications as well as sounds should be muffled. He asked for his crew to build him a fake room so it looks like he’s in one of the famous hotels and not the yacht.
His men started to make arrangements, but Fis kept trying to provoke a fight, and once I saw how violent he was becoming, I hid in the engine room. There was a small hole there that I’d crawled into before when his crew became violent toward each other or me. I’d hoped they would forget about me.
Most times it worked, but not all. Sometimes, the crew would remember, and they’d look for me, and I’d come out when they called for me. I didn’t want them to find my safe space.
Fis would ask me where I’d been, and I would tell him I got scared and hid under his bed. He seemed to think that was funny and compared me to a little mouse. He never doubted my explanation or thought I could possibly be smart enough to save myself by hiding in a hole where I knew he’d never look.
I think the hole saved my life.
The man sitting with me, Shark Daddy, slayed every soul onboard the ship, and I think if I hadn’t been in the hole, hiding, he would have ended me too. But then I remember he missed. Did he miss, though? I look at him over the rim of the cup.
“I’m thinking about you, Shark Daddy.”
He quietly sips his morning brew, watching me.
I continue. “I’m thinking about our meeting yesterday on the deck. You missed on purpose.”
Now that the adrenaline of yesterday has dissipated, and I’m not in survival mode as much as I have been for the past few months, I’m coming to terms with the fact that my life is, yet again, changing with this man around to take care of me…or end me. I want some answers from him, but I’m scared of the answers, scared of knowing too much about him or my situation.
He dumped twenty-eight bodies into the sea and called it work. I’m a witness. A liability. Yet, he aimed and missed me on purpose.
It might be because he felt sorry for me. Or it might be that he has principles about not hurting pregnant women. Or it’s because he’s protecting me from the things that were done to him in different ways by different people. For whatever reason, God put us together so Shark can rescue me.
“Don’t you want to know what I’m thinking?” I ask.
“Not really, no.”
“You’re not curious at all?”
“I’m curious. Just not about what you’re thinking right now.”
“Imma tell you anyway.”
He chuckles. “All right.”
“I’m trying to figure out why you missed on purpose, and I think it’s because you couldn’t hurt a pregnant girl, which tells me you’re merciful and will help me.”
He nods. “All true, but you’re not going to like how I intend to help you.”
“Why not?”
He presses his lips together. “Because of various reasons.”
“Which are?”
“Mine for now. When I’m really to talk to you about them, I will.”
I sigh and change the subject. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Mostly on my back,” he says.
“You can’t know how you sleep.”
“I can if there’s a camera in the room recording the bed.”
I look away. “When I asked you how you slept last night, I meant how do you sleep so well after you…”
He springs out of the chair and sits on the coffee table in front of the couch. He covers my mouth with his palm, bumping the cup of tea, causing it to spill on the blanket.
Shark presses a forefinger to his lips. “Shh. You saw nothing, remember? If asked, this is what happened. You were inside a small space in the engine room, and you came out to use the bathroom. That’s when you saw me, the new owner of the yacht. For all you know, the other men departed, leaving you behind.” He removes his hand. “Is that clear?”
I nod. My heartbeat thuds in my ears, and I lean over and place the teacup on the table next to his thigh, only then noticing a leather pouch with something inside it beside his leg.
“Usually, I hide in the closet.” I can’t tell him about the hole in the engine room. I need that place all to myself. It’s the only safe space I’ve had since I woke up on this damn boat. Yacht. Whatever.
“Don’t lie to me. I found the crawl space, and it explains why I didn’t account for you. The heat and radiation in the engine room blocked my scans.”
“Radiation? What radiation?” Tears rush into my eyes. I’ve spent a lot of time there, sometimes days at a time.
He pats my hand. “Don’t worry. It’s a recent leak from a warhead they’re carrying, and I can’t repair it. I’ve isolated the weapon and the space itself, but we must leave the yacht as soon as you can get ready.”
“Are you saying my baby is going to be okay even though I spent time in the engine room?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God.” I swallow. I’m not a stupid girl. I know this man can’t promise that my baby will be okay after telling me I might’ve been exposed to radiation, but I accept his reassurance anyway, mostly because I want to live. Or rather, I don’t need another reason not to want to live. “I don’t own anything, so I’m ready whenever you are.” The clothes I wear aren’t mine, and I don’t want them.
“What about Fis’s safe?” he asks.
“What about it?”
“Do you know where it is?”
“Mmhm. It’s in the tub.”
Shark gives me a side-eye. “He showed you where the safe was?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. He took wads of cash to pay the fishing boats like yours that brought us food. We haven’t docked in months.”
“Huh. Show me?”
“Sure.” I rise, then grab his biceps while my head clears. “I get dizzy when I abruptly change positions.”
“You might have low sugar levels or low blood pressure. Ever measure those?”
I shake my head.
“You will when I get you to Tatiana.”
“Tatiana?” I press a hand to my lower back and massage the ache there. Pregnancy is nice, but also a little hard on my body.
Shark looks concerned. “She’s an obstetrician.”
“A doctor?”
“Yes, for mothers and babies.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek. “Her name sounds Russian.”
“That’s because she is Russian.”
“Are you?” I’m curious about his accent. It’s faint, but the way he pronounces Ws as Vs makes me think English is not his native tongue.
“No. Can you show me to the safe now?”
“Sure.” We enter the bathroom, and I touch the bottom of the tub with my toe. “That’s the door.”
Shark kneels and starts to bang around the tub. We can hear the spot where it’s hollow, indicating the hidden door. He depresses it, and a plastic hatch pops out, revealing a hole with a gunmetal-gray safe with a black dial screen.
Shark sits back on his heels. Hands on his hips, he takes a moment while I hop up to sit on the counter.
“I’ll be right back.” He leaves for a few minutes, and I take that time to wash my face and brush my teeth before hopping back up on the counter.
“You should go sit in the bedroom,” he says when he gets back.
I pout. “But I want to see what’s inside.”
“I’ll call you when I open it.”
I slide off the counter but don’t move far, stopping just outside the bathroom door. I lean against the doorjamb.
Shark lines up the tools in front of him and then reaches into his pocket and takes out a lollipop with a yellow wrapper. “Lemon,” he says and makes a distasteful face before unwrapping it and putting it into his mouth. “Want one?”
“Not now, thanks.”
He starts drilling, hammering, and cursing because he can’t seem to get the safe open. When he takes off his shirt and wipes the sweat off his body, I pull up a chair. His muscles flex with each hard hit or gentle prod of the safe. Watching him work is like my new favorite show. Or porn.
But it ends when Shark leans against the cupboards under the sink and wipes his face with the now-soaked and dirty shirt. He pulls up a knee and leans an elbow on it, crushing the lollipop between his teeth.
“It’s too bad it needs Fis’s fingerprint to open, huh?” I say.
“That’s not a problem. My problem is the code.”
“I know the code.”
He whips his head toward me, brown eyes as wide as chestnuts. “What?”
“The code. I know it.”
Shark’s up and towering over me, his hands interlocked behind his head. He curses in a foreign language. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”
“Because the code doesn’t matter. It’s one of those touchpads that reads fingerprints. Fis’s only.”
“Baby.” Shark crouches in front me, teasing my senses with his masculine scent mixed with fresh soap. Also, he called me baby. He continues, “I have Fis’s finger.”
I take a moment to process what he’s saying but can’t grasp the meaning. “How do you mean that?”
“I always keep a finger or two. Just something useful I’ve picked up with experience.”
“Oh. Well then, good for you.”
“Indeed. What’s the code?”
I tell him, and he disappears for a moment, then returns carrying Fis’s finger. I recognize the digit and turn away at the sight of it. Bile rises in my throat and makes me want to throw up a little.
“You doing okay?” Shark’s on his knees, punching in the seventeen-digit code that I bet Fis didn’t think I’d memorize from that one night when Fis barged into the bathroom while I was on the toilet. He wouldn’t leave just so he could humiliate me, but since he always underestimated me, he went ahead and opened the safe in front of me.
I didn’t get all the code then, but once I found out there’s a safe under the tub, I paid attention to his movements, hoping for a glimpse of the whole code. One day, he spoke about his mother and mentioned the day she died, and I knew I had the rest of it.
The safe clicks open, and Shark leans back, sitting on his heels again. “How do you know the code?”
“I suck good dick,” I say, a dead-serious expression on my face.
Shark regards me with a tilt of his head. “I’m trying to figure out if you’re joking.”
I keep my neutral expression. “How’s that going for you?”
“I’m underperforming,” he says, keeping his expression neutral too, matching my vibes. Now we’re having some sort of staring contest to see which of us will blink first.
Me. I blink. “I was joking.” I laugh, thrilled this man is so easygoing and lets me tease him all I want. “And since we’re on the topic of dick sucking and all, I remember you mentioning the cameras in the room. I’m sure you’re wondering about those.”
“I am, but you don’t have to tell me.”
I shrug. “Maybe I want to tell you. Maybe I don’t want you to think I’ve been…used. Maybe I want you to know that Fis made me undress and sleep in his bed. Hence the cameras. I think he liked to watch me sleep.”
Shark presses his lips into a thin line, clearly trying not to say anything.
“Come on, Shark Daddy, I tell you all that and you clam up on me. Makes me feel like a loser. Whacha thinkin’?”
“All right,” he says. “I’d like to remove Fis’s eyeballs. But also, watching people is a professional hazard for me, and I think watching you sleep naked on my bed would be nice too.”
I didn’t expect him to say that. Heat crawls up my neck. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Why? You plan on sleeping in my bed?”
“Yes.”
Shark side-eyes me. “Baby girl, are you flirting with me?”
“Only if you are.” Holy crap, this man’s intense. Also we are flirting. It’s crazy. We’re both insane, I realize. Welcome to the circus. We sell cookies here.
Suddenly, Shark stands. He parts my legs, kneels in front of me, and wedges his body between my thighs. He’s shirtless and sexy as all get-out when he cups my face. “Your skin feels hot,” he says. “I like making you blush. Make your move if you want me.”
“Which move?” I ask.
“Any.”
“What if I want your heart?” I tease.
Shark rears back and drops his hands as if I burned him. He scrubs his jaw.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “That was lame.” I huff. “Way to ruin our moment, huh?”
He smiles. “You can recover the moment once you open the safe.”
“I thought you already opened it.”
“I did just to be sure it worked. Then I closed it again so you can have the honor of opening it for your birthday.”
I touch my chest and bat my lashes at him, playing at being coy, as if his gesture is somehow funny instead of endearing. “You remembered my birthday?”
“It’ll be hard to forget.”
Shark’s staring at the safe instead of at me, which tells me he doesn’t want to be teased about his feelings. He moved away when I asked him about taking his heart. He didn’t like to be teased that way. And for all I know, his heart is already taken by Tatiana, the Russian doctor. I’m pretty sure I’m jealous of her even though I’ve never met her. The fact that he knows another woman is enough to make me jelly.
My irrationality is caused by the pregnancy hormones. Yes, that’s all it is. Once the baby is born, I’ll forget all about this random hot guy who saved me and my baby.