Colin turned his head to see Perla at the top of the steps, covering her mouth with a shaking hand. Angela peeked around her side with gaping eyes.
“Master!” A choking sob tumbled from Perla as she took in the sight of Marco’s bloodied body and Colin’s gun. Her eyes darted around, probably searching for Luis, and when she didn’t find him she yelled in panic again. Colin looked back at the man at his feet.
“Tell her to shut her fucking mouth,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Silencio, Perla,” Marco commanded, his breaths coming short.
She continued to cry, she and Angela gripping one another by the arms.
Colin ignored them and spoke quietly. “I’m here to take back what was never yours to begin with. The girl is going to disappear. And so am I.”
Marco’s voice was a weak, but wicked rasp. “My people…will hunt you.”
Colin’s shoved the barrel against Marco’s forehead. “If any of your fucking goons come near her, I will be the one hunting them and slicing off their worthless balls while they sleep. Then I’ll burn your palace to the fucking ground. Your reign is over.”
“Don’t kill him!” Perla wailed. “Por favor! No, no, no.”
“Shh,” Angela pulled her close, staring at Colin in fearful confusion.
Ah, fuck. He had no time for crying women.
Marco chuckled at Colin’s hesitation to finish him off, or perhaps it was simply madness from blood loss since there was a nice pool of crimson around him. But his laughter turned into a choking sound as the man fought to breathe.
It was time to end this.
When Marco had told us to leave, I thought I’d tumble down the stairs, but Perla grasped my shaking hand. I was near tears by the time she pulled me into a bedroom and took my face.
“Will he let him buy me?” I whispered in Spanish. I couldn’t help the way a sound of hope rose in my voice.
“Listen to me,” Perla said, more serious than I’d ever heard her. “And listen well. It is good and acceptable for a slave to love their master, but you must know, Angel. Your master will never love you in the same way. Never. You heard what Master said. Se?or Douglas will share you with other men, just as he did today. He will take other slaves and women in front of you, just as he did today. You must prepare your heart and mind for all of this. There will come a day when you are aging, and he replaces you with another. Do you understand?”
Her words hit me like a steamroller as I imagined it. Was that how Perla felt every day of her life?
“Do you love Master?” I whispered.
Her eyes flitted closed and her words were a breath of fervent emotion. “He is my first and only love. Everything I do is to please him. And each day he takes me to his bed I am thankful.”
My heart hurt. Could I be like Perla? A loving, loyal slave who took each day, moment by moment, knowing it could never last? Could I take her advice and not become bitter in the process? I didn’t know if I could. I wasn’t wired that way.
A banging sound like something hitting the side of the boat and yells came from above. Perla grabbed my arm and we watched each other, becoming still.
What the hell was going on up there?
Another yell, sounded like Luis. I sucked in a breath and felt my eyes widen with the rush of fear coursing through me. A feeling of danger punctuated the air.
Oh, my God…was this turning into a business deal gone bad? Were they going to kill Mr. Douglas? A panicked dread spread its fingers through me, and like a lovesick fool I made a move for the stairs. Perla’s fingers dug into my arm, holding me in a vise grip.
“You cannot interrupt!”
And then a gunshot rang out, making us both jump. More shots followed, and I heard Marco yell in anguish. Now it was Perla’s turn to gasp and run to the stairs. I took off after her, my heart banging in my throat.
What I saw at the top made the world seem to stop. Marco, shot and bleeding on the white deck, his blood a crimson shock to my eyes. Mr. Douglas standing over him with a gun pointed at his head. Luis nowhere in sight.
Holy fucking shit. He was really going to kill him.
I didn’t know how to feel. Mr. Douglas could be a psychopath for all I knew, though deep down I didn’t really believe that, but it was hard to know what feelings to trust. When Perla cried out, begging for Marco’s life, the indecisive look of regret in Mr. Douglas’s eyes made all of my distrust for him fall away.
And still, for some reason, the thought of watching Marco be killed sickened me. I thought about how angry he’d been at his son for raping me and kidnapping me. How he’d pampered me and only punished me when I broke serious rules. How he’d protected me in many ways, never forcing me to be his lover until today, and only as a way to “teach” Mr. Douglas.
“No.” It left me as a whimper.
Mr. Douglas swung his head toward me, a look of astonished surprise on his face. “After all he’s done, you don’t want to see him dead?”
“I…” Do I? “No.” But he made you a slave. “I don’t know!”