9. Drifting in Darkness
Drifting in Darkness
Havoc
Eventually, the sharks gave up, no longer seeing us as an easy meal.
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving us adrift in the endless, inky blackness of the ocean.
Meanwhile, the full moon hung low, and the stars—those tiny pinpricks of light—gazed down, mocking our journey through hell and providing no guidance.
Hours upon hours had passed, each minute stretching into eternity as the relentless rocking of the raft continued toward nothingness.
There was no land in sight.
No other yachts or boats.
No helicopters or planes.
Not a hint of anything except water in every direction.
The ocean ran vast. It was a terrifying darkness. Anything could’ve lurked under us—sea monsters, other men, sharks. Black waves rose and fell like a living creature, lifting us up and then dropping us back down in a nauseating rhythm.
The raft bobbed and pitched with each swell.
Soon I could smell the distant rain coming a good twenty minutes before thunder boomed and the lightning streaked the sky.
Soon a storm would come and I feared it would toss our boat around like a toy.
We have to get to land.
I had no idea where we were in the Pacific Ocean and what direction we were heading to. A deep sense of hopelessness crept within my already broken soul.
Was it the realization that there was no end in sight, that gnawed at the edges of my mind?
Or was it the terrifying chill that had seeped into my bones—a biting cold that the ocean spray only intensified.
Will we die here?
I shivered uncontrollably, the thin layer of saltwater on my skin doing nothing to warm me. And the darkness somehow amplified the cold as it wrapped around me, squeezing the warmth from my body.
I should have grabbed a fucking shirt before we left the yacht. But why was I naked in the first place? Who cares? None of that matters anymore.
In the chaos and panic, I hadn't thought about anything but getting the hell out of there.
Now, I sat shirtless and vulnerable.
Each gust of wind felt like needles piercing my flesh.
For some reason, I began to think of the earlier sailors from centuries past, who believed the earth was flat and that at any moment they could sail off the edge into oblivion.
The horror they must have felt.
The fear of the unknown.
The terror of the endless horizon.
In some ways, our situation felt just as dire. There was no edge to fall off of, but the uncertainty of our fate was equally hair-raising.
I glanced over at Onyx.
She sat opposite me, her back straight despite the exhaustion that I knew she must have felt.
She had her gaze fixed on the dark horizon, surely scanning for any sign of hope.
Any hint of rescue.
Yet, even in this hopeless darkness, she remained a vision of beauty.
Still irresistibly captivating.
Earlier in the day, Onyx had been ready to kill me, yet here we were, side by side in this impossible situation.
Two unlikely partners tethered together.
The ocean cared not for our past rivalries or our deep-seated animosity.
It only wanted to swallow us up.
What will happen next?
I watched her in silence and imagined her thoughts were much like mine—wondering if we would face death from starvation or dehydration first, or be swallowed whole by a monstrous wave in the oncoming storm.
She held her arms tightly around her, probably attempting to suppress the chills that surely ran down her spine.
I bet her heart drummed hard in her chest.
Mine sure had been pumping out a battle tune.
But for now, the only sounds were our breathing within the threatening soundtrack of thunder in the sky and water sloshing against the boat’s sides.
However, despite everything—the endless night, the constant motion of the waves, the cold that seeped into my bones—I found myself grateful for Onyx’s presence.
The thought of facing this alone was unbearable.
At least for now all of the hopelessness of our situation seemed a little bit less daunting with Onyx beside me.
How odd that two strangers in shared desperation could find unexpected comfort?
Even more important, did she feel the same way?
I studied Onyx. “Are you okay?”
She didn't look my way. Her gaze remained fixed on the horizon, and her voice lacked its usual strength or smart-assed-ness. “I'm fine.”
Perhaps it had been a dumb question to ask.
What could I do for her if she did have a problem?
Not one damned thing.
I nodded, even though she couldn't see me. “We'll get through this. We'll find a way.”
“You’re the last person I would think would be optimistic in a time like this.”
“There's no other option.” I rubbed my hands along my arms in a failed attempt to warm me up. “Drowning ourselves in pessimism won’t get us anywhere either.”
She finally turned to look at me. Those brown eyes met mine. “What if we die in this ocean?”
“What if we live?”
“You think someone is going to come and rescue us?”
I watched Onyx, unsure of how to answer that and still be positive.
The truth was that even if we were rescued, the likelihood of encountering saviors was slim.
In these waters, far from any familiar civilization, those who roamed were often the ones with dark secrets and even darker intentions. This part of the Pacific served as a hiding place for the extremely wealthy and their clandestine activities.
I knew firsthand the kind of depravity that took place on the remote islands dotting this vast ocean.
The sex club was the closest thing to civilization in this forsaken part of the world. And even that place, with its hidden island and its dark allure, was a den of twisted pleasures and hidden sins.
Further out, there were places far worse.
Islands where men did the cruelest things to innocent souls, far from the prying eyes of any laws or sense of morality.
I'd been sent to some of those islands, hired to clean up the messes left by the powerful and sadistic.
The things I'd seen. . .
The things I'd done. . .
They haunted my nightmares.
And the idea of encountering one of those yachts filled with vicious, inhuman wealthy people now—in our state of helplessness—was beyond terrifying.
I’d rather the sharks return and rip our bodies to shreds.
If we did cross paths with one of those vessels, it wouldn't be a rescue. It would be another battle for survival, another test of our will and strength.
I clenched my fists, feeling the tension coil in my muscles.
Onyx watched me.
I gazed at the water. “Whatever happens in these next minutes, hours. . .days. . .we have to stay sharp and be ready for anything.”
She shivered, and I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the fear. “My boss tried to kill me.”
“This is the way of the assassin world.”
“He betrayed me.”
“You see it as betrayal. He sees it as saving millions of dollars.”
The oncoming storm began to gather strength, telling me that rain would come within the hour.
The wind picked up, whipping around us.
The waves grew taller and more violent.
But as long as Onyx was here, as long as we faced this together, I knew we had a fighting chance.
“Onyx.”
She quirked her brows.
“Come closer.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Why?”
“I’m freezing. You’re freezing. We should hold each other.”
“But. . .”
“We should.”
She parted her lips in shock, and I wondered if she would in fact come over to me.