I looked back at the marina. The panic started somewhere below my gut. He couldn’t be serious. He wasn’t that delusional was he?
“We’re not going to Mexico on your boat,” I said, more of a statement than a question. Even if I was jumping the gun a bit, at least it was out there.
He gave me that sly smile again. “Would that be a problem for you?”
My mouth opened and closed like a fish, no words coming out. I knew that Javier probably had to lie low as we traveled across the country, but this seemed a bit extreme.
“It’s not the same boat, don’t worry,” he said. He opened his door and hopped out just as Raul opened mine.
Javier’s old sailboat was a sleek, gorgeous thing that held far too many moments for us. It was big enough to sail anywhere, really, but that wasn’t the point. I could barely handle being in the same vehicle as Javier, let alone a boat.
I guess I must have stood there shaking my head or something crazy like that, because Raul’s cold fingers clamped around my forearm and yanked me forward.
“Let’s go,” he growled.
“Don’t touch me,” I growled back, yanking my arm away from him.
Javier gave both of us an amused look as he walked off toward the docks. “This trip will be easier if the two of you learn to play nice.”
“Fuck you,” I yelled after him. A family decked in nautical gear were unloading their car nearby and gave me an odd look. In fact they gave all of us an odd look and I couldn’t blame them. Big bald driver was hauling our bags out of the back of the black SUV, while the devil in white led the way for one henchmen and the damsel in distress. I wondered if we appeared suspicious enough for them to report us. Technically we weren’t doing anything illegal but if I had seen a similar scene, my radar would be going wild.
But, what would happen if I mouthed to the father, with his wary eyes and nervous twitch, to “help me.” What would he do? And would he really help? What would I even say? Could I get away and still ensure that Camden would go untouched? Or was my freedom always going to be joined to him in that fate?
I didn’t say anything. I was used to being the one trying to get away, not the one wanting to be caught. I just walked toward the docks, feeling like oxygen was slowly being leached from me, that the further we got away from solid ground, the less chance I had. For life, for liberty, for love, maybe for everything. My situation kept changing from day to day, moment to moment, and I wasn’t quick enough to keep up.
Just when I thought my legs were turning to jelly, we stopped on the furthest dock in front of what I first thought were a bunch of sailboats all tied together in a row. I was wrong.
“This is my new masterpiece,” Javier said with a too-wide smile, his arms spread wide, as if he built the boat himself.
He wasn’t kidding when he said it wasn’t the same boat. I didn’t even think you could call it a boat, it was more like a floating apartment complex, a hotel on the sea, a mothership. This boat, this yacht, this monster had to be almost 200-feet long and one of the largest things I had ever seen. It had two masts that seemed to stretch into the hazy heavens, it sparkled in the sunlight, glossy navy and white paint and teak accents, and boasted a crew of four people, all men in their twenties, who stood in a row on the deck sides like subjects greeting the King. There were less obvious ways of jetting off to Mexico but this wasn’t one of them. Javier was nothing if not obvious sometimes.
He’d been waiting for my reaction, for me to say something, but I couldn’t do it. He wanted me to be impressed when all I could think about, despite the size of the sea beast, was that I was going to be stuck on that ship for quite some time, with no way off except a watery grave.
“Come on, let’s get you introduced to the crew and settled,” he said, waving at the driver to bring the bags on board. I peered at the boat’s name as everyone shuffled around me. It was called Beatriz, which happened to be the name of his oldest sister. I wondered why it was named after her, if something happened, when I realized I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. Men like Javier used sympathy as a fuel.
“Are you having second thoughts?” Javier asked from up above, holding his hand out for me. “Because you don’t have to come with us, you know this.”
I didn’t know if he was saying it for the benefit of the crew, who were all facing forward, stony yet eager expressions on their faces, dressed in black shorts and black polo shirts.