chapter TWO #3
A giant hand pulls me back. “It’s long gone. No use looking for it.”
I turn my head, and finally have a chance to look at the man who rescued me from the water.
He, too, is dripping wet and ringing water from his green, linen button down shirt.
Quite possible one of the biggest men I’ve seen in person, he looks like he could be a UFC fighter.
His hair is buzzed close to his head and his brown eyes are large.
His massive head is in proportion to his wide neck.
He’s not fat in any way. To the contrary, he is rock solid with large forearms and a broad chest. His calves look like they’re the size of my thighs.
Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. But he’s sturdy. This man is built to protect people.
My bottom lip trembles. The back of my eyes burn as hot water pools along the ridges. “You don’t understand. I need that bag. Everything, and I mean everything I own is in that bag.”
“Sorry to break it to you,” he says, pulling his wet shirt away from his chest. “There is no way you’re getting your bag back in this water.”
My body starts to shiver as this terrible, awful feeling of helplessness pours over me.
A dark, thick, sinister cloud of despair settles over my heart and my head fills with thoughts of desolation.
It’s a familiar feeling. The one Dr. Schueler told me was from post-traumatic stress.
The one I have fought off yet sneaks back to pay a visit every once in a while.
What have I done? Everything is gone.
I start to cry uncontrollably, my sobs growing bigger and deeper. My lungs feel as if they are being crushed down by a leaded weight. I try to breathe, but I can only gasp.
The stranger in front of me shifts his body to the side, leaning forward a bit and then pulling back. He has no idea how to comfort a woman. And it’s a good thing. If he touches me I just might flip out on him. If I can catch my breath, that is.
My daze is slightly lifted by the sound of Leah’s voice. She is having Raphael drive her closer to me. When her boat reaches mine, she launches herself over the rails and swings her arms around my convulsing form.
“I was so scared. You didn’t come up for air and I thought you were . . .” Her grip gets so tight on me I know exactly how she was going to end that sentence.
She lifts her head and I see her eyes bloodshot. She turns her head to the American sitting across from me, “You saved my sister.” Leah launches herself onto the giant man and gives him an impressive hug.
How long was I under that water?
Another shiver runs up my spine as I shake off any thought of what could have been.
“It was no problem.” His smile is polite. He acts as if anyone would have done the same.
“I dropped my bag on my way down.”
Leah releases her hold on the giant and looks at me. Wiping a tear from her face, she asks, “I know you wanted to bring our things, but what exactly was in it?”
I glance up toward the sky and wish the bag would magically float to the surface of the sea. It doesn’t, so I list the items that were in it.
“My passport, your passport, our euros that we exchanged at the airport, our credit cards and my phone.”
With the mention of my phone, Leah pats down her skirt and feels for something. She reaches into her pocket and pulls her phone out. It doesn’t turn on. “Shit. Mine might as well be on the ocean floor as well.”
My shoulders lower and the darkness swells in the frontal lobe of my brain.
Leah nods her head and looks at me. “Okay, lets think about this. There has to be a way to get new passports. I’m sure people lose them on vacation all the time.” She’s trying to be positive and I’m trying to appreciate it. “How much money did we have in euros?”
I roll my neck and let out a large breath. “A thousand dollars’ worth.”
Leah swallows; obviously surprised I had that much cash on me. That much unrecoverable cash, that is.
“That sucks. As does your credit card. The good news is my credit card is still in the safe, so we can use that for expenses until we get home.” She pats her knees and offers a cheery smile.
I lift my head and offer her the grimmest expression anyone can make.
Leah reads it right.
“Oh no. Oh no no no no no!” She exclaims.
I offer her a shrug.
Her blonde bob, now slicked back on her head, frays out when she stands up. “Are you kidding? Do you mean to tell me we have no passports, and no money whatsoever? Not even a friggin’ credit card to our names?”
All I can do is nod. Slowly.
“Oh, my God, Emma! Because some lowlife in Mexico stole your suitcase eight years ago, you lost every penny we have. We’re in a foreign country! We have no phones, no money, no way to get home!”
“I am so sorry.” My voice is low and, most certainly, apologetic.
Leah sits down and rocks herself back and forth. I want to do the same.
Raphael says something in Italian that I have a hard time understanding until the giant American pulls a wallet from the cargo pocket of his gray shorts and hands over a soggy hundred-euro note. The American says something back to Raphael in Italian and then thanks him in English.
When Raphael turns the motor on to his boat, Leah and I both come to attention and get our minds back on the problem at hand.
“Did you just send him away?”
“Did you just pay him?”
We say both sentences in unison.
The American nods. “From the sound of it, you two weren’t going to be able to pay him.”
Neither of us can argue with that logic.
“We have to get back to our rooms. He was our way back,” I say.
“He may not have spoken English well but he understood it and there was no way he was going to take you back without payment. I only gave him a tip for his services.”
“So he just left us here?” Leah rubs the sides of her arms with her hands.
“I told him to.” He looks back from Leah sitting next to him, to me sitting across from him. “I can help you ladies.”
“Thank you but you’ve already done so much,” I say, but am cut off.
“I have a friend at the US consulate in Rome. He can rush you a pair of passports to Naples. While I make that call, you can use my satellite phone to call your credit card companies and see if they can get you a replacement card. Maybe someone back home can wire you some money as well.”
His logic is on point. Having a contact at the consulate would be incredible. I don’t even know where the nearest one is. That said, this guy is a complete stranger and could hold both Leah and myself down with his pinky if he needed to. The offer is nice but we can handle the situation on our own.
“That would be great,” Leah says before I can decline.
“I’m going to take you to my boat. You can dry off there while we make the arrangements.” He stands up and starts the engine.
I raise my hand to tell him to take us back to shore but Leah stops me.
“No, Emma. You lost our money and you lost our way home. I am not spending the next seven days standing in an embassy, God knows where, getting a new passport issued.” Her tone is deep, bossy, and in full lecture mode.
“The man saved your life. If he wanted you dead, he would have watched you drown. We are following him back to his boat and that is final.”
Her brows are closed in and her button nose is pointed down.
“We don’t even know where he’s taking us,” I whisper entirely too loudly. Obviously he can hear our conversation, but if he is a madman I don’t need him knowing I think he’s a madman.
“My boat is right there. I’ll take you on board, we’ll make a few calls, and then I’ll take you back to shore.” He points his finger at the boat he is talking about.
Leah looks over and I know her mouth is open just as wide as mine is.
He is taking us to the yacht.
Yes, the yacht.
The sex yacht.
Holy cannoli.
“Ems, we are so going with him.”