Page 76 of Frat Row
Panting, Tyler lowers his voice to where only I can hear. “Up ahead, there is a lifeboat that can take us to shore. I’m going to maneuver you down to it.” He stops abruptly and clutches both my shoulders. “If for any reason I’m held back by someone, leave and don’t look back.”
I nod, confirming I will do as he says.
As I lift my head up, the lifeboat is only feet away from us.
True to his word, he lowers me into it first, tossing the bag in the back of the boat.
Tyler climbs down the ladder, skipping the last step, as he jumps into the small boat and begins working on the ropes that will lower the boat into the water. His hand slips up a few times, trying to hurry as his hands shake with the uneasy feeling of being caught.
As the boat finally makes contact with the water, Tyler revs up the engine and throws the throttle as far back as it can go. I flail, losing my balance but catching myself on one of the sides.
“Sorry!” he shouts, glancing over at me to see if I am okay.
I situate myself after taking in the sun, and I see the island straight ahead of us.
Daring to look back at the yacht, I jump when I see Martin holding onto the safety bar at the very front of the yacht, watching us. He turns around to throw things at the captain while screaming at him. After Martin leaves the captain with no choice, they jump into the smaller boat and trail behind us, gaining momentum.
Tyler doesn’t even bother with the dock as we reach ankle-deep water. We throw ourselves out of the boat, clutching each other’s hands with the bag strapped over Tyler’s shoulder, and make a run for it.
Tyler knows his way around the island; I have never been here. Chancing a glance behind us, I see Martin’s boat docking as the captain grabs the ropes to secure it. Martin jumps onto the dock and barrels after us.
Sprinting while weaving in and out of people, Tyler spots a cab, and we dash over to it, throwing the door open so roughly it starts to shut. Tyler clutches the door open with one hand and throws me across the seats, leaping in as he closes the door.Tyler shouts at the driver, throwing his arm in front of him and signaling to go. “Drive, just fucking drive!”
The taxi driver stares back at him, calmly asking, “What’s the rush, man?”
Martin makes it to the door of the cab, and his fists connect with the window as he reaches for the handle.
Without thinking, I launch myself over Tyler and slam my palm down on the lock on the door, beating Martin by seconds from opening it.
“Go, go quick!” Tyler raises his voice, shouting at the driver again.
The driver stomps his foot on the gas pedal, and we take off with Martin refusing to let go of the handle. He doesn’t have a choice as the car speeds up, and he tumbles over the concrete.
Tyler and I lean back against the seats, sweating profusely and breathing heavily.
“We did it,” I say, sinking more into the seat.
“Yeah, we did,” Tyler says as he winks at me and grabs hold of my hand, giving it a squeeze and kissing the back of it.
“Take us to the other side of the island, where there are boats headed to Turks and Caicos,” Tyler directs the driver, tossing a few hundred-dollar bills his way.
The man nods enthusiastically, his smile widening. “Right away, sir.” He steps on the gas, moving the vehicle faster along.
After about forty-five minutes going in and out of traffic, we pull up to white docks with smaller boats, not yachts, with rooms below deck.
Our driver gets out of the cab and walks over to where the captains of these boats are standing. He strikes up a conversation and gets a few of them laughing.
He hurries back to the cab, informing us, “There is only one boat heading to Turks and Caicos, but it is going to cost you a pretty penny, my friends—one thousand American dollars.”
Tyler says too quickly, “That’s no problem.” He unlocks his door, opening it wide. Still holding my hand, he drags me out of the vehicle, and I stagger at the abruptness of it.
Our driver points out the boat, and Tyler counts out the money. He spots the captain standing in front of it and hands the money over to him. “We need to leave right now,” he rashly tells the captain.
Nodding once, the captain motions us to board the boat. Once we’re on, we make our way to the main cabin in the back of the boat. Still worrying that Martin will catch up to us, I peek out the large windows of the boat.
As the engine starts up, the captain does a quick once-over. My eyes spot Martin as he exits a vehicle, running while searching up and down the row of boats.
Our boat slowly starts to move forward, and Martin’s eyes zone in on it. He sprints in our direction. “Tyler!” he shouts. “You can’t do this to yourself!”
