Chapter 6 #2
She shook her head. The sweet scent of cigars wafted to her nose, followed by the acrid smell of whiskey.
His hand tightened on her windpipe, stopping the flow of oxygen to her brain.
She snapped her gaze to his face and her eyesight cleared.
Dark, coal-like eyes dipped to her wetsuit. His wide mouth slashed into a smirk.
“Going somewhere?”
She narrowed her eyes.
Humor lit up his face. “What, you were going to swim back to shore?” He threw his head back and laughed.
She wrapped her free hand around his wrist and dug her nails into the skin on his arm. He didn’t flinch, but his grip on her throat eased enough for her to catch her breath.
“You know what? I’m a nice guy. I think I’ll let you try that.
” His deep chuckle shook his body. He leaned in even closer, until his mouth was almost touching hers.
Her body turned to stone. Her airway was now clear, but terror had stilled the muscles that activated her lungs.
He brought his hand up next to her face.
The sheen of a switchblade flashed. “After I take what’s mine.
” He brought the blade to her breast and dragged the tip over her nipple and down her ribs.
Alarm bells screeched in her skull. She had to get away.
She jerked her knee between his legs and connected with his manhood.
A gurgle of pain burst through his lips, and his hold on her neck loosened.
She snapped her fist against his elbow, breaking his grip completely.
Drawing her hand back, she jabbed the heel of her palm into his nose.
Cartilage crunched against her skin and he howled in pain.
Blood splattered through his fingers. The whites of his eyes glowed in the moonlight, and his pupils were so wide and dark with rage that a shiver of fear rolled down her spine.
He lunged at her, and she swung the gun out from behind her back and pointed it at his head.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly and a chill settled into her bones.
Rhett had told her to use the weapon only if she had to—at this point, she didn’t have much choice, but firing the gun would bring every guard to the stern and would out Rhett. Beanie’s face fell, but fear didn’t take residence.
He took a step closer. “I fucking dare you. You’ll be raped and then killed before you can swim even ten feet from the boat.”
Blood roared through her veins and her head pounded. She had to make a decision.
“Drop the knife.” The command shook from her lips.
He raised the hand holding the knife away from his body. The radio at his waist crackled and she jumped. Seeing the opportunity, Beanie grabbed her arm and slammed her wrist above her head. The gun fell from her fingers and skittered across the deck.
He brought the knife to her cheek and smiled. Adrenaline kicked through her system. She had nothing to lose. She’d rather die than let him touch her. She grabbed his wrist and yanked the knife away from her face then slammed her forehead against his.
He yanked backward and slashed the knife at her.
She lifted her leg to block the blow, but the icy steel carved through her wetsuit.
Warmth flooded her skin and pain seared her nerve endings.
He pinned her to the wall and crushed his hand over her face.
The heat of his palm scorched her lips as he pressed his weight into her jaw.
“You’re going to die tonight, you fucking cunt.”
Crack!
Beanie’s head snapped to the side, but he didn’t fall. He wheeled around. Rhett stood there, a flashlight in his hand. Then he stomped his foot into Beanie’s chest, sending the man flying backward. Beanie reached for the radio at his hip, but Rhett kicked it from his hand.
“You traitor,” Beanie hissed. “Moretti’s going to slit your throat when he finds out what you did.”
“He’s not going to find out.” The edge in Rhett’s voice made goosebumps erupt over Peyton’s skin.
Rhett took a step forward, but Beanie quickly reached behind his back and then pointed a gun at Rhett’s chest.
Peyton’s mouth went dry as Rhett raised his hands. Beanie got to his feet and scanned the ground. Peyton’s gaze fell to the small device on the deck—his radio. She dove for it and hurled it over the edge of the yacht.
Beanie snagged her hair and dragged her toward his chest. Her scalp screamed, the throbbing falling into sync with the pulsing of the knife wound on her leg. “You,” he said, gesturing to Rhett. “Lead the way to the top deck. If you try anything, I’ll blow her head off.”
Rhett raised his hands. “Fine.”
No, no, no!
It couldn’t end like this. Not with both of them dying. She struggled against Beanie, but he shoved her in front of him. She searched Rhett’s face, but he wouldn’t meet her stare. Sticky, warm liquid coated her thigh as Beanie forced her to walk alongside him.
The pungent taste of fear coated her taste buds as she watched Rhett’s back retreat.
He turned the corner, moving out of sight.
She swung her elbow backward against Beanie, throwing him off balance.
As she ducked out of his hold, there was a flutter of movement at the side of the boat.
Rhett jabbed Beanie’s already bloody nose, but before the man could scream, Rhett twisted him into a reverse choke hold.
“Get back,” Rhett growled. Peyton cupped her hand over the scorching-hot slash on her leg and returned to the boat’s stern.
She heard several grunts and blows but couldn’t focus on what was happening.
Her teeth gnashed together with each involuntary shiver of her body, and she slid down the wall until she sat on the deck.
As she pressed her hands against the wound, the ship rocked and swayed.
Each movement sucked at her consciousness.
Her limbs turned to ice. Her body jerked in spasms. The stars swirled overhead, and she blinked as blackness closed in on her vision, narrowing the constellations into a tunnel.
Her hand fell away from her leg and she rested her head against the wall.
Then the warm arms of sleep surrounded her, chasing the cold away with their peaceful darkness.