Chapter 30 Faina
FAINA
“Cian! Cian!”
“Faina!”
“Don’t take him away! You don’t understand! Get your hands off me, you son of a bitch! If you hurt him, I swear I’ll skin you alive! Cian!”
“Faina!”
The last I see of him is his alarmed, panicked face as three of Hawk’s guards drag him around the corner of the corridor and out of sight.
Gritting my teeth, I fight with everything I have to break free of the iron-like grasp these men have on my arms. I kick one hard in the gut and he doubles over with a grunt, scrambling to catch his breath.
My elbow collides with the ribs of another and I fight until I’m wrestled through a narrow door and thrown face down onto the bed.
Both my captors flee the room by the time I get back onto my feet.
“Hey!” Yelling at the top of my lungs, I charge at the door and kick it but after spending a few minutes wrestling with the handle, I accept that I’m locked in.
They’ve tossed me into a guest bedroom with two small windows looking out to the ocean, a large bed in the middle, and a built-in closet that’s half open.
Aside from a table lamp and a coat hanger, there’s nothing I can use as a weapon, which leads me to sit on the end of the bed and flex my aching knuckles.
Where have they taken Cian? He didn’t do well at all when we were held by Interpol and they at least had regulations to ensure Cian was safe.
Hawk has no such obligation. Although he did seem oddly interested in Cian.
It reminds me of back during the hotel explosion.
He was surprised to learn Cian was alive and promptly fled rather than fighting.
Even now, he’s brought us on board his yacht rather than killing us the second we stepped off the plane.
What the hell is going on?
Moving to the window, I peer out, trying to get a lay of the land.
Even if I broke them, they’re too small for me to squeeze through.
The water twinkles under the sun and in any other situation, it would be beautiful.
Not this one. Trying to find a solution is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
I survey the room, pull the sheets off the bed, check the walls and the skirting, even all around the door frame, but there’s nothing to help me.
I’m locked up and can’t do a thing until someone comes to get me.
Then there’s a sudden loud rumble and the floor shifts beneath me as the yacht starts up and we pull away from where Hawk had us resting. My hand shoots out to the wall to catch my balance and I stare out the window, watching the strip of land with the plane gradually get smaller and smaller.
We could not be any more fucked.
Alone on a yacht with Hawk and his goons.
“Fuck.” Running my hands through my hair, I sink down onto the messy bed and groan softly. With any luck, someone will come for me soon. Then I can fight them, disarm them, and do everything I can to get out of here and out to Cian before anything happens to him.
Several hours later, when the sun is turning the sky orange and sinking into the darkness of the water, someone finally comes. They knock on the door and I lift my head, staring and waiting for them to open it.
They don’t.
“Faina?” Hawk’s voice drifts through the door and my stomach plummets.
I remain silent.
“Faina, I can see you on the camera. There’s no use pretending not to be there.”
My gaze flicks up to the ceiling and I scan around for any hint of a camera, but nothing jumps out at me. Groaning softly, I stand and approach the door.
“What?”
“Is that any way to talk to your host?”
“Why not open the door and let me tell you how I really feel?”
“I’m not suicidal.” There’s a soft creak as Hawk presumably leans against the door. “I come to you with a proposal.”
“Hardly a fair conversation to present something while we’re sailing away from land.” I study the door, picturing Hawk in my mind and trying to plot his form against the door.
“I would be a fool to ignore my advantages.”
“Why are we still alive?” I ask while estimating the position of his head. “You have us right in your crosshairs and yet you choose to taunt us? Play with us?”
“Is a game of cat and mouse really that fun if the cat just eats the mouse in one bite?” Hawk drawls. “Not everything is black and white.”
“Some things are,” I reply. “You’ve killed too many people to get away with anything other than a clear-cut death.”
“I guess we’ll see.”
“Yes, we will.” With an estimation in mind, I slam my palm against the door where I think his head might be, eager to disorientate him. Pain smarts through my palm and then low laughter rises from the other side of the door.
“You’re quite the character, Faina. I can see why he likes you so much. Not to disappoint you, but your survival is tied to him. In the closet, you’ll find a dress I picked out just for you. Wear it to dinner or the next thing you’ll see is the bottom of the ocean.”
A dress?
Hawk’s footsteps gradually fall away from the door, so I move to the half-open closet and fully open the door.
A sparkling, figure-hugging red dress hangs from a black hanger tucked into the far corner, easy to miss if you’re not looking for it.
Taking it out, I spread it out on the bed and step back to observe.
With a plunging neckline and a sash around the waist, it is rather beautiful.
There’s no way he picked this out himself.
I debate doing what I can to destroy the fabric, but I have no doubt Hawk will make good on his threat. Knowing he’s watching makes my stomach flip and after wrestling with myself, I snatch up the dress and disappear into the closet for privacy.
Fine. I’ll wear it.
But it won’t make a difference.
Later that evening, a guard knocks on my door and barks out instructions for me to step back from the door. Aware of the camera, I oblige and resist the urge to tackle him once he opens the door and whistles low when he sees me.
His gross comments about how hot I look are stored inside me to fester because I can’t risk messing up this opportunity to get out of that room and try to find Cian.
Not that I have to look very far.
The guard takes me down a long, winding corridor past an indoor pool, a cinema room playing a movie for several guards, and a noisy kitchen before leading me out onto the upper deck, where the air is much cooler.
Stars twinkle in the sky above, and it’s a stunningly clear view I can’t appreciate because in front of me is a long table draped in a white tablecloth and laden down with food and crystal candlesticks.
Hawk sits at the far end of the table toying with a toothpick against his teeth and Cian sits two down from him on the right-hand side.
He’s dressed in a tuxedo with a red bowtie that matches the shade of my dress, and he rises up in his seat the second he spots me.
He shifts as if to run toward me, but Hawk quickly clears his throat and lazily picks up the handgun resting next to his plate.
“Faina, it’s so good of you to join us. Your accommodations are to your liking, I hope?” Hawk drawls lazily.
My attention remains locked on Cian for a few minutes as I check him over while trying to silently assure him that I’m completely fine.
As I walk forward on the strappy heels Hawk provided for me, I quickly take in the rest of the deck.
There are only the three of us, plus the guard with his rifle pointed at my back, pushing me forward.
The ocean around us spreads out like black ink, reflecting the crystal clear moonlight above and creating what looks like a glittering white stairway to the horizon.
I can’t see anything that resembles land in the darkness which means Hawk’s moved us far enough from shore that diving off and swimming will be impossible. Not that Cian could do that with his leg.
The barrel of the gun prods into my lower back when my steps slow and as I reach the chair at the other end of the table with my name on a placard, the guard lands his heavy hand on my shoulder and shoves me down into it.
“Geez,” I mutter. “Can’t a lady take a moment to adjust her dress before sitting?”
“I’ll adjust the dress all you want me to,” snorts the guard.
Suddenly, the pop of a gunshot rings out through the still air and the guard’s head snaps back like it was attached to a leash suddenly drawn tight. Warm blood sprays down from above me as the guard topples backward and lands down on the deck behind me, dead.
I stare in shock as droplets from the spray begin rolling down my bare arm and neck. Turning, I glance up the table to Cian’s stunned expression and Hawk lowering the gun.
“My apologies,” Hawk says. “I did not bring you here to be disrespected.”
“Because cameras in my room are respectful?” I lock eyes with Hawk as I pick up the cotton napkin and begin wiping the blood from my neck and arm.
“Security is necessary, and cameras don’t talk back now, do they?”
Cian’s head swivels between the two of us and once the surprise passes, an angry curl settles deep into his brow. “Is this all part of your entertainment?”
“Killing my men?” Hawk scoffs lowly and spits out his toothpick. “No. I simply won’t have my guests disrespected until I’m finished with them. He overstepped and he was dealt with. Simple.”
Confusion warps Cian’s brow deeper. “You’ll kill your own men but serve us dinner?”
“Ah!” Hawk’s face lights up and he raises one hand, snapping his fingers. “Dinner.”
A surge of staff dressed in black pants and white coats pour from the closed doors around the deck and within a few minutes, the table is creaking under the weight of even more food.
Something akin to a pheasant smothered in gravy with a small ball of mash is placed in front of me, and a deep red wine is poured into the glass to my right.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was at some fancy restaurant back home. The sight of the food turns my stomach, though, so as Hawk lifts his cutlery and attacks his meal like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, I catch the sleeve of one of the waiters.
“Can I have some water?”
They stare at me as if I’ve asked something terribly obscene and Hawk’s laughter drifts down the table.
“They don’t speak English,” he says around a large mouthful of food.
I repeat the question in the three other languages I know, Spanish, Russian, and Italian. The Italian brings recognition across the face of the man, and he hurries away, returning almost immediately with a bottle of water.
Thanking him, I crack it open and drink deeply. Cian keeps sneaking glances at me, and I try to meet each one to assure him that I’m okay, and relief warms my heart to see him free from any apparent injury.
“Do you really expect us to sit here and share a meal with you?” Cian asks sharply. “After everything, you think I would break bread with the man who slaughtered my family? For a man who claims to be a genius, you’re fucking stupid.”
Hawk pauses his eating and stares down at his plate. “Are you vegetarian?”
“Huh?”
“I said, are you a vegetarian? Because I can accommodate that—”
“Fuck you!” Cian swipes his arm across the table and sends his plate of food and two glasses crashing to the floor where they shatter into a hundred pieces. “Enough of these fucking games!”
“Fine.” Hawk’s pleasant expression darkens in an instant. He picks up his napkin and wipes his mouth, then he tosses it down onto his plate and picks up his wine while looking up at Cian.
“I have a proposal for you, Cian. And it’s really simple.”
“I want nothing from you,” Cian spits.
“Refuse,” Hawk says, pausing to drink, “and I’ll kill Faina and lock you up until your trauma makes you claw your fucking eyes out.”