Page 11 of Tarnished Reign

Hope and a strange kind of terror surges in my veins. It’s the fear of action. The fear of having to make my mind up to do something.

Stay or try to run?

Where to? The cold, frightening ocean? That would be a death sentence. This damn boat is my prison. This man is the warden.

I'm stuck here with him until he decides to take me back to the mainland. Although, maybe I could sneak out on deck while he’s in the bathroom and get on one of the boats leaving now. He said they had to take the other women back to the mainland. Would all his men know who I am?

His words come back to me. It isn’t safe for me out there. Dorian's organization is large, from what little I can glean, and doesn't stop with the men on this boat. The man who took me from my stepmother’s home, Ari, isn’t even on this boat. That’s what one of the men said. Ari isn’t on the boat and hasn’t been, which means he’s out there. A threat.

It was Ari who kidnapped me. Ari, who is Dorian’s right-hand man, came to our house and put a rag over my face.

It was Ari I overheard talking to Hana about taking payment for her debts.

He’s still out there. Maybe he knows what has happened already and will be waiting for me. If I do leave, I can hardly go home, to Hana. She’d call them immediately.

How do I ensure Cade is safe? How do I even get myself basic supplies like a phone and my identification?

God, this is all so mind-blowing. The woman my father married is related to the mob, which is a huge head fuck to get over. It does mean that this enigmatic man, however, is correct. It really isn't safe for me out there.

The sound of water running in the bathroom has my hands clenching and unclenching. My skin is tingling the way it does right before a storm, adrenaline pumping in time to my heartbeat as it crescendos. This is my opportunity.

This. Is. It.

I should run. Take my chance.

Except, there's a little voice in my head that tells me I'm safer here. Safer with this stranger than I am out there. At least he seems in control of himself, unlike Dorian and his men.

This man and his group must be organized crime too, although something about them is very different. They certainly aren’t upstanding citizens. Not with the way they gutted my loathed guard, the memory of which flashes in front of my eyes, making me retch. I try to calm my panicked heart rate and slow my breathing.

I'm a big believer in intuition. I disliked my stepmother at first sight. Days before I was taken, I felt it deep in my soul that something was wrong. The warning signs were there, urgent red flags flying to alert me of danger, yet I didn’t listen to my gut when I should have. I swallow back the panic that’s clawing at my throat and slow my breathing, calming myself so I can focus on what my intuition is telling me now.

My mind flicks back to the last couple of nights at home. The conversations Hana had with Ari before I was taken all slot into place. She owed the mob money, so she sold me to cover the debt. I overheard her begging for more time, begging for leniency, and then she decided to trade me instead. But why would they take me?

All because I was a virgin?

That’s what the skinny guard said. I was worth it because I was a virgin.

All of which goes to say that Cade is now in a very messed up situation. I haven’t known him for long, but he’s wormed his way so effectively into my heart, there’s a tiny Cade shaped mark stamped on there now. I think of his golden-brown hair, warm honey eyes, and smile. He’s a cutie, and he’s a good kid, and he doesn’t deserve to be left all alone in this world with my alcoholic father and his morally empty mother as the only people watching out for him.

Would my stepmother sell him to the mob the way she sold me? He’s her own flesh and blood, but she’s a despicable human being, so I can’t begin to guess the depths she’d sink to.

I do some yoga breathing, slow and deep, and imagine a golden light filling me up. This man promised to help me. He seems to be helping the other women. Against believing in his promise, however, is one huge obstacle.

Desire.

He wants me. It was written all over his hungry face. The way he looked at me was both old and new.

Old because men have looked at me with lust since I was a damn teenager.

New because his desire felt different. Reverential almost. Biblical in its ravenous need.

His gaze ate me up and lit a path up my body that I can still feel. Flames licked at my skin everywhere his gaze touched. He looked at me as if he wanted to devour me and then do it all over again.

Along with that desire there was something else. There was a connection, and I'm not merely imagining it. There was a moment when he first looked at me where it felt as if he was breathing for me.

I sensed something protective in him. In his gaze, in his touch. So maybe he does want me, but there's also a side to him that I do believe would stop short of forcing me into anything.

He isn’t the only one who felt the attraction. The man crackles with power, energy, and a steely competence which radiates from him. He made me feel safe in his arms.

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