Page 22 of Marek

Warmth spreads through my body, and before I know it...I’m out.

WHEN I WAKE, I KNOWright away that I’m on a boat of some kind because we’re swaying. Roll after roll, I go from side to side as the boat crashes through the waves. Reaching up, I find my hands aren’t bound, so I rub my eyes to try and clear the haze.It doesn’t seem to matter what I do, I can’t get them to focus. Whatever drug they gave me, was enough to knock me out cold.

I remember nothing.

The last thing I recall was Marek catching me with the phone.

Everything after that is darkness.

“Have a nice sleep, did you, Ellie Mae?”

Marek’s cool, smooth voice has me whipping my head around to see him sitting on a chair, whiskey in his hand, watching me. We’re in what seems to be a small cabin style room, with a bed, a few chairs by the window and a tiny bathroom and toilet. It’s like a bad version of a cruise ship.

“What the fuck have you done?” I try to snap, but it comes out garbled.

“Don’t try and speak, it’ll take a while for you to become clear again.”

What the hell kind of drugs did he give me?

I manage to push into a seated position, and my head swims as the boat continues to rock. This is bad, I know it’s bad. We’re not going anywhere good, and the fact that he took me, means I’m far, far away from home. Any chance of escape...now gone. He’s probably got us going to some foreign country, where no one can ever find me.

“I hope you weren’t part of that little article,” he goes on, his voice icy. “I’m certain you’re not that stupid, Ellie Mae.”

So, the article did release.

He’s really calm, considering his whole world just got tipped upside down.

“You all didn’t think that would actually stop me, did you?”

My heart begins to race.

He laughs, bitterly. “Stupid girl, I have connections all over the world. I will take my show somewhere else. That little article did nothing but stop me preforming in that part, but it would never be enough to stop me completely.”

I swallow the bile rising up in my throat.

It was such a good plan, because we assumed he would have nothing if we exposed him. They never considered that he could run overseas and start again. Nobody is going to go on a manhunt around the world for him, and he knows it. I should have stopped their plan, I should have thought it through, because now I’m so far from home I’m not certain I’ll ever return.

“Have you been overseas?” he asks, casually sipping his drink, “I think you’ll like it. We’re stopping at an island I own for a few weeks to let everything settle. Then we’ll move onto Russia, where I’ll make you a star.”

Russia.

We’re going back to his roots.

I shiver, a mix of fear and shock.

“Don’t worry, Ellie Mae,” he goes on, as if we’re having a fucking conversation, “I promise you’ll be happy there.”

Happy?

Is he serious?

He’s kidnapped me and is now taking me to a different country.

He has lost his fucking mind if he thinks I’ll ever do anything for him again.

“Before you come up with another genius plan to stop me, you should know that I’m your only chance of survival now. If you don’t do as I ask, I’ll cast you out to the lions and you can attempt to make it home on your own. No passport, no identification, I don’t think they’ll appreciate it. Especially if I call the police and tell them you’re in the country illegally. I wonder what will happen to you then...”

He's bluffing.