Sam
“Let’s be specific,” Nicky said, sounding sly, “the Adriatic Sea. It’s much more lyrical than the water.” She mimicked Rose’s faint Texas accent perfectly.
The muscles in my neck bunched with strain. These people were crazy. I clenched my jaw as I continued wiggling my right wrist. Clio hadn’t tied it very well, and I was taking complete advantage of it.
Rose leaned dangerously close to that freaking scalpel. “I don’t believe you.”
Nicky laughed. “You’ll just have to wait and see then, won’t you? Let’s go.” She motioned with the knife for Rose to go first.
No. I couldn’t let this happen. I surged forward and practically ripped my arms out of their sockets. “Stop. You can’t do this.”
Nicky waved a hand like I was an annoying fly. “Gag him, Clio.”
Holy hell. What next? Clio held up a piece of cloth, and I turned my head away. She thrust it into my mouth anyway and proceeded to tie it, her face too close to mine. “Right hand is loose,” she whispered.
What? She’d done that on purpose? Nicky had moved Rose all the way over by the exit and was making her open the door. Clio eyed me. “Wait till we’re gone,” she whispered.
“Get his phone,” Nicky called.
“Okay,” Clio said.
She widened my pocket with one hand and tugged my phone out with the other, her fingers barely touching me. Thank God for that. Then she followed the others to the door.
Rose looked over her shoulder at me, her expression stunned. I tried to communicate everything I was feeling with my eyes. Don’t worry. I’m coming. I’ll get you out of this. But she was shoved forward. The door banged shut behind them like a final judgment on my determination. But I couldn’t let it be.
I redoubled my efforts on my wrists, twisting my right hand back and forth, trying to free it. It took several more minutes of clenching my fist and then relaxing, of wriggling and tugging, before my hand slipped free. I grabbed the gag from my mouth and then set to work on my left hand. My fingers fumbled at the knots, and they only seemed to tighten more. Somehow Clio had managed to not only tie my wrists together but to attach them individually to the railing. Why did there have to be so many railings all over this stupid ship?
The image of me and Rose side by side, leaning our elbows against the railing on deck flashed into my mind. I froze. This wasn’t getting me anywhere. I needed to chill, to focus, to ignore the swirling sensation inside me that felt like I was drowning.
Right. You can do this. It was just like climbing up on the pool starting block and ignoring all sounds except for the starting buzzer. Concentrate on the race ahead. On each movement, each stroke, each flip turn.
Each knot.
I took in a long breath and released it slowly. Then, willing my fingers to stop shaking, I worked on the knots in the rope, treating each small section as a puzzle piece—you couldn’t get to the interior piece until you’d removed the outer ones.
Sweat beaded along my hairline. An AC unit whirred into life. And through the porthole, the lights of Dubrovnik twinkled on the water as dusk settled on the bay. Focus. Don’t think about dark water.
Finally, after what felt like two days, one knot loosened and then another. I tore my hand free, rubbing at the raw skin of my wrist, and ripped the gag off. I raced into the hallway. Other than the door banging shut behind me, total silence reigned. Where would they have gone? Would they really try to toss Rose overboard? Or was that only more of Nicky’s mind games?
One thing was certain. I needed help. I ran to the stairwell and headed up. Time to find my family and Rose’s grandparents.