Page 2 of Dirty Grovel

“No!”

His shadow darkens the crack at the bottom of the door. “Sutt?—”

“No!” I cry again. “Leave me alone.”

“Need I remind you that you’re on my yacht?”

“Only because I didn’t think you’d be on it,” I yell back at him.

There’s a thunderous rattle on the door and I cringe backward with a gasp.

Sensibility and calm go right out the porthole. “Open the fucking door, Sutton.”

The queasiness is back with a vengeance. I feel like throwing up again. Maybe I should give him what he wants and open the door just so that I can yak all over him.

But before I can get my digestive system on board with the plan, the rattling stops. “I’m going to give you fifteen minutes to calm down and get this little temper tantrum out of your system,” hesays. “When I return, I expect you to open the door so that we can have an adult conversation. Or else I will kick it down.”

“Well, that’s very grown-up of you,” I holler as his footsteps disappear from the state room.

When it’s quiet, I smack my forehead against the door repeatedly.

That couldn’t have gone worse.

I need tothink.But the hormone soup is turning my brain into absolute mush. It feels like I can’t even form a single complete sentence in my head, much less devise a way out of this absolute clusterfuck of a situation.

It’s not like I’m awash in options, either. What am I gonna do—commandeer a lifeboat and make for shore like Captain Jack Sparrow?

I’m no sailor. Hell, I’m failing pretty miserably at being a stowaway. The ocean is not my friend right now.

Neither is anyone on this ship.

The best I can come up with is splashing water on my face, peeing fast, and pulling out my phone. Which only has a twenty-five percent charge left, and extremely tenuous reception.

I send a quick text to Sydney, hoping she’s got her phone on her and can answer right away. She’s my last lifeline at this point.

SUTTON:Syd, I’m in trouble. Oleg’s kinda kidnapped me. I need your help.

Thankfully, she starts typing back almost immediately. Unfortunately for me, her text isn’t very helpful at all.

SYDNEY:What do you mean, he “kinda” kidnapped you?

That’swhat she chooses to focus on?!

SUTTON:Can I call?

SYDNEY:All clear on my side.

I do a quick battery check as I place the call.Shit.I’m down to twenty percent now. And this call is definitely going to drain the rest of it.

Guess I’ll just have to talk fast.

I give her the rundown as quickly as I can.Snuck on board a ship, thought I was safe, turns out I’m not.

“No way!” Sydney squeals. “You’re going to the Bahamas?”

“Trust me, Syd: I couldn’t make these things up if I tried.”

“What do you need from me? A coconut bra and a grass skirt?”

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