Page 50 of The Vipers' Vow

Well, well, well,we all know what the Danes’ business model is now, don't we?

I close the box again and consider my options. My gaze lights upon something, and I step closer. Behind the shelves is a grate embedded high in the wall.

A ventilation system.

Of course, this boat would have to be ventilated, especially on the lower levels. Will I fit, though? I’m not exactly a small guy.

I remember watching a Christmas movie as a kid where the father vanished on Christmas Eve, only to be later discovered stuck in the chimney dressed as Santa Claus. I don’t want to become a similar victim, jammed in a ventilation shaft until someone locates me from the smell alone. I shudder at the memory. I can’t risk getting stuck, and, as much as I want to secrete myself behind one of the shelving units, I’m pretty certain Jarl and his men will tear this place apart the moment they realize I’m gone.

Leaving the supply closet, I keep going.

I reach the bottom of the spiral staircase that leads to the upper deck. Pausing at the first step, I strain my ears for any signs that someone is coming. The music continues to thump from above, and I can’t hear footsteps.

Quickly, I take the stairs and find myself in a nearly identical corridor. No one is around, so I repeat the process of checking the rooms.

I push open the closest door, peer inside, and stop, my heart picking up speed. There are things in this room. A wallet on the table by the bed. A book on the mattress, opened, face down. I glance at it and then, with trepidation, step inside. This is one of the men’s rooms, and they might come back at any moment, but there might be something in here that could help me.

I freeze at the reflection in the long mirror against the wall at the far end. A wild-eyed, pale-faced, mussed-hair maniac stares back at me.Putain!I look like something out of a horror movie. My cheek is dark with bruising, and underneath my eye is swollen from where I was hit.

I begin to search the room, looking in the drawers, and under the bed, and finally in the closet. I’m about to leave when a dark bag in the back of the closet catches my eye. I pull it out and open the zipper, the sound loud in the quiet of the room. Inside the bag are neatly folded clothes, some rolled up socks, a toiletry bag, and a small black case. I unzip the case and stare in disbelief.

Then I raise my good hand to a God who has probably deserted me by now, but who I beseech anyway. “Please, God, let this be loaded.”

I take out the Glock, loving the heavy weight of it in my hand, and check. Holy shit. I just hit the jackpot.

I now have a gun. The stupid motherfucker left a spare weapon in his room. I’d bet good money this is Dick Necklace’s room. He’s arrogant enough to think I’d never get free and never have the balls to be in his room.

I should hide. I can’t risk trying to take all three of them out—and there might even be more, for all I know—but now I’m armed, I can do a lot of damage once the cavalry arrives. Plus, if I’m hiding, there’s a much bigger chance that if they do find me missing, they’ll split up to look for me, and that gives me much more of a fighting chance.

Where, though? The bedrooms will have a closet or two each, but on a yacht, they're not going to be very big. Won’t they be the first place Jarl and his men will think to look? If they’re not going to find me, I need to do better.

I’m going to have to try the upper deck, even though I’m more likely to run into Jarl and his men. I’m hoping they’re all on the sundeck, even though it’s dark, drinking and living it up. It’s tempting to creep up on them and shoot the motherfuckers in the back of the head, but I have to be realistic. It’s still only me against at least three or four of them, but there could be more. Those aren’t good odds.

I creep up the stairs to the upper deck, every muscle in my body poised to run into someone. The weight of the gun in my right hand gives me comfort, but I don’t want to start a shootout I’m sure I will lose. Part of the upper deck is open to the air, and the temperature drops. I inhale the fresh air gladly and try to get a sense of where I am. The bad weather I’d endured before I’d been brought here seems to have abated, but there’s no moon in the sky—or at least it’s hidden by cloud cover—and I’m surrounded by black water. I have no idea how far the shore is. I can’t see any lights that might indicate the shoreline.

Small waves lap against the side of the boat. An idea occurs to me. Checking over my shoulder, making sure I’m alone, I peer over the edge. It’s dark, and it’s some way down to the water, but I spot what I’m looking for a few feet along. Yes, there is somewhere I can hide. A place they won’t easily find me.

I grin to myself

I hear my father's voice for some odd reason then, telling me I'll never amount to anything. Telling me I'm always going to be in my brother's shadow. And telling me I'm always being the weaker one in the family. The one who relies on others. The one with no imagination.Well, look at me now, Papa dearest. Look at me now, surviving having been beaten and hardly having any water for almost twenty-four hours. Look at me now, using my head and keeping calm when everyone around me is a crazy psychopath. Take that, Father, and stick it where the sun doesn't shine.

Soon enough, my friends will be here. I hope against hope that they will be here before this impromptu party of the Danes breaks up, but either way, I have to trust that they will arrive soon.

I'm kind of excited when I let myself think about it.

In a crazy way, this is going to be fun.

17

ZANE

I’m washed and dressed again by three on the dot. I take the weapon I brought with me and put it into my conceal carry holster. One gun isn’t much, though, and if Vani can hook me up with more from Phoenix and the others, I’ll be grateful.

I think about her and smile. We told each other some deep shit tonight, and I don’t regret a minute of it. She’s so damn tough. I knew, deep down, the moment I saw her arrive on that bike, that she’d be someone special. I had no idea just how special.

She had floored me then with her tough exterior, but, man, she had to have been resilient to grow up among these hardened men and not be either a shell of a person, or made into a hardened person herself.

Vani has true strength. She’s still kind, and loving, and soft, but also so very, very strong.

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