Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Once more, I’m torn between glaring and chuckling.
It’s where our relationship keeps me.
It’s honestly where I always want our relationship to be.
Us to be, no matter what lies ahead.
Watching the sawing like motion make actual progress on her tape due to the edge of the desk pushes me to ask, “How do you know how to do that?”
“This isn’t the first time I’ve been kidnapped.”
“What?!”
“Or held hostage.”
“What?!” Disbelief and outrage blend together. “And how do you know we’re being held hostage?!”
“And I bet you a frosty marg,” she adds a bit more force to her sawing, “that the muscle who snatched us are nicer than the last men who got a hold of me.”
“Wh-”
“Tadah!” Salay abruptly interjects at the same time she shows me her broken restraints. “Free as a gull.”
“Explicar.”
“Mom taught me how to survive a rip current and Dad – being a lawman – taught me how to escape if you’re caught by pirates.” She rips off the torn tape and banishes it to the ground. “Both have come in handy more than once in my life.” The small cringe she flashes also includes a bit of amusement. “More than either probably would’ve ever anticipated.”’
Shock leaves my jaw agape.
“Been tryin’ to tell you for as long as I can remember that I’m not some fragile little flower.” Her figure spins on its heels to begin searching the dresser she just molested to aid in her liberation. “More like a fragile little bomb.”
“Siempre dotado con tu lengua.”
A saucy smirk is shot over her shoulder in my direction. “Never had any complaints.”
Of course she hasn’t.
But my reference about being good with her tongue was meant to be in regard to speech, not how well she can lick a pair of balls.
Which is quite impressive.
Rolling over in the opposite direction occurs alongside my investigating, “What are you looking for?”
“A letter opener.”
“Why would there be a letter opener?”
“It’s a desk,” she announces and returns to her frantic scouring.
“It’s a dresser.”
“It’s a desk dresser.”
“Eso no existe.”
“It is a thing.”
Landing on my feet does not happen nearly as smoothly as it did for Salay. Not having hands for balance or practice maneuvering my restrained frame or the ability to find my center of gravity on a moving yacht results in me clumsily stumbling headfirst into the nearest wall. “Fuck!”
“The Ocean Goddesses are reminding you to be nice to me.”
Groaning in discomfort precedes me turning to face her. “Why do you assume you’re gonna find a letter opener?”
“Bougie people always have one.”
“That’s not true.”
“Oh,” she briefly pauses her actions a second time, “what’s on your office desk in Spike Village, Mr. Attorney at Law?”
Nope.
Not gonna answer that.
Not gonna give her additional evidence that her annoying theory has a bit of merit.
“Pleading the 5th?”
“Pleading to know what you need it for.”
“To help get that tape off of you.” Her hand begins pulling open the top drawers. “It’s wrapped too tight to just unravel it, plus,” she moves onto the next one, “any type of weapon is better than no type of weapon.”
Fair point.
Again.
Not gonna say that out loud.
She doesn’t need my praise, nor does she believe it when I give it outside of the bedroom.
“And what do ya know?” One swift turn reveals to me her found treasure. “A letter opener.”
I offer her a mirthful grin. “Want a marg?”
“Two.” Sauntering towards me precedes her triumphantly smiling. “When we get out of this shitshow you owe me two.” An eyebrow waggle occurs before she whirls her finger around. “Show me that ass, Garcia.”
Facing away from her allows for a surprisingly quick cut, and I’m grateful for it.
The instant my hands are unbound, I give a soothing rub to my wrists, thankful for proper circulation to begin again. “We need to find Zero.”
“He’s – most likely – not here.”
“How do you know that?”
“Last thing I remember was him on the dock, not the boat, and some chick in the background approaching.”
“Some chick?”
“Yeah. Didn’t exactly get the best look at her before Huff, The Magic Goon got a little too fresh for my liking-
“He’ll pay for that.”
“-but she kind of looked like she could be related to Prince Douchebag.”
“His twin.”
“Likely.”
“We need to get to Zero,” immediately escapes, panic spiking all over again. “We need to get off this boat, find him, and save him from her.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he is trying to figure out how to find and save us?”
“He can’t don’t that.”
My lack of reluctance to argue shifts her brow to the ceiling, “Maybe he can do a lot more shit than you care to give him credit for because you’re scared if you do then he won’t need you anymore. And if he doesn’t need you then that means wanting you has to be enough which is fucking terrifying to you because wanting is something someone can stop at any time requiring you put power in someone else’s hands while needing keeps it in yours.”