chapter 14
I sat back on the bed, bundled up in one of Charlie’s sweatshirts. I zipped it all the way to my chin and pulled the hood over my head, basking in the Charlie smell. It was helpful, as my clothes were still soaking wet. I also sipped from time to time at the water Charlie brought for me, trying not to chug it all and hear the swooshing in my empty stomach.
“I’m sorry your sketchbooks got trashed.” Every few minutes I would plow my brush through my hair, desperately trying to detangle the mess. Charlie watched me as I paced the room. I saw his eyes lull as he sat on the bed, hesitating to reopen after blinking.
“I don’t care ‘bout that,” he repeated. He smiled at me lazily. He was losing his fight against sleep.
I sat next to him and wrapped my arms around his waist. “Well, I do. In fact, I care so much, I actually—”
The sketchbook! The only thing I thought I would have left of Charlie. Had it been lost in my stupidity?
“My bag, where is it?” I tried to dive from the bed but Charlie caught me before I could secure a landing. Concerned, he plopped me back on the bed and stood up, but he never took his eyes from mine. I held out my hands like an expectant child while he handed me the soaking bundle. I clapped my hands excitedly. Although the cover was wet, and the edges of the first few pages were damp, the sketches themselves were still intact.
“What—?”
“I wanted to take something of yours with me,” I admitted sheepishly. Though I was embarrassed, it was minimal compared to the amount of relief I felt at knowing I hadn’t destroyed the last sketches Charlie had on board.
Charlie looked down at the floor. He seemed sad again, although I didn’t understand why. I half expected laughter and pointing, but sadness seemed like the last response.
“This is my favorite…”
I was more confused than ever until he flipped open the back cover of the sketchbook and handed it back to me. I was taken aback by the first drawing with its abnormal shading and underlined attention to the figure at the center of the page. Charlie had drawn me, sitting on the bed almost as I was now, in perfect detail. The page before it was similar, like a distant black and white photograph. I was staring off the deck into the sea. When had he done these? In other instances I was sleeping on my side or untangling a knot from my hair, but they were all me. All of them were me in various moments we’d been together over the last few days.
“Those first sketches you drew of me, when you first brought me here?”
He nodded, but looked down at his work. “Yeah, I think I ’ready knew then that I loved you.”
He smiled and pulled the sleeve of the sweatshirt away from my face. “I know when you leave here, I ain’t ever gonna see you again. You’ll be in the papers and TV and stuff, but that ain’t the same.” He laughed and sat back down on the bed beside me. “So it’s funny. I guess I wanted to take something of yours with me, too.”
The blush took over before the words even came out. “You kind of had that opportunity last night.”
“I ain’t gonna ruin you.”
The remainder of my will was gone. I threw myself into his arms, leaving the rest of the blankets behind. The sudden rush of air that hit me made me start to shiver again, but he hugged me tighter, holding me about as close as someone can hold another human being. I seized the back of his neck and held on for dear life. I never wanted him to let me go.
“You should have just told me what was going on, with Wallace being here and everything,” I whispered.
He squeezed me tighter. “Nah, its better if you hate me.”
I laughed, kissed his tattoo. “I tried and couldn’t, you fool. I couldn’t hate any of you.”
“Not even Reid?” He pulled away to look me in the eyes.
I laughed again, all at once feeling ecstatic and overwhelmed at Charlie’s proclamation.
“Listen, though.” He tried to get serious again. “We’ll make port in a few hours, and if we don’t find Wallace by then, we could be in for some trouble.”
“Only a few hours?” Though I was ashamed to admit it, I didn’t know which prospect seemed bleaker: the idea of going home without Charlie, or the idea of Charlie being in danger.
He nodded grimly. “You were gone all night. I never thought to look in that hold again after I left there, and all the other ones were searched.” His face became dark again. His glance lost mine. “Truth be told, I only started rummaging ‘round there when I heard your teeth chatterin’.” He took my mouth and inspected it like a dentist. “Other than that, Addie, you were so still and cold. Your lips were blue. I thought maybe you left for good.” He shook his head as if unable to complete the thought.
I pushed my forehead up against his. “Hey, Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really glad you found me.”
“Addie, you maybe—” He smiled, kissed me on the nape of my neck. “I’m real glad you found me.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. Charlie laughed in my ear. “I love when you do that.”
“Stop trying to change the subject. What were you going to say?”
He laughed even louder and threw his head back. It was good to see him happy. It made me warm on the inside.
“You ain’t gonna let me get away with that, are you?”
“Nope.”
“I was saying that I wanted you to call your family. It can only be for a few seconds, but you need to do it. They’ve loved you your whole life and you’ve been gone for days. I’ve just loved you for the better part of a week and losing you just ‘bout drove me crazy. It ain’t no wonder why your old man is making such a fuss—”
My mouth silenced his by plummeting the two together, an act that he accepted and actively participated in. I could taste the fresh flavor of clove, tobacco, and mint while I eagerly took his lips as my own. He latched onto me, desperate and grateful to touch, to please. Any remainder of a chill that lingered in my body immediately fled as my muscles seemed to melt in his hands. But once again I cursed my functional lungs when they begged for breath and pulled away when they pleaded for release.
“What,” he gasped, “was that for?”
I smiled at the shadow of his rapidly growing beard. “Just to make sure you understand how you inspire me.”
He sighed and shuddered all at once. “You got no idea what that means to me.”
For a while we just held each other in the blankets and shredded quilts that consumed most of the bed. With his fingers, he attempted to untangle the mess of my hair while I forced him to elevate his damaged hand and keep it unmoving.
“Doesn’t this hurt?”
“I’m used to it.” I remembered the cigarette burn and frowned. I didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“Charlie, why does it have to be that we can’t see each other after all this?”
I felt him tense up instantly. “Addie, I don’t expect you—”
Again, I put my finger to his lips to silence him. “Just hear me out, okay?” He was still clenched, bracing himself. “Things will probably be crazy for awhile. I’m not naïve enough to not know that. But after some time when things cool off, we could meet somewhere.”
He opened his mouth to speak again, but I wouldn’t let him. “There are colleges and universities all over the world, Charlie. I can find one and be anywhere you are.”
“It ain’t that simple, Addie. I’m a thief. That’s who I am, that’s what I’ll always be. I don’t know how to do nothin’ else.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
“You shouldn’t be stupid for me.”
“Just listen! I’m not asking you to do anything else, Charlie. I don’t like how you make your money, but all you have to do is be you and I’m going to be around. Have you ever heard any of those stories about crazy, stalker people?” I pointed to myself dramatically. “Well, I, sir, intend to be one of them.”
I pulled him close while he smiled. “I’m going to have you whether you like it or not.”
His eyebrow shot up. “You’d chase me?”
I attempted my best imitation of an angry Charlie. “It wouldn’t be an option.”
We kissed once more, our laughter blending in together like so many shades of blue and green.
We compromised about calling Dad, deciding that calling Robbie’s cell phone would be less dangerous for everyone involved, as the odds were it would go right to voicemail and there wouldn’t be a trace on it. Even if there was, keeping the phone call less than fifteen seconds wouldn’t be enough to secure our location, while at least telling Dad and Robbie I was alive. After that, Charlie would throw the cell phone into the ocean and we would be in Singapore within a few hours.
I tried to straighten myself up as best I could. My ankle still throbbed a little, but the swelling was down significantly from the night before, so I knew it was only a sprain.
Charlie lounged on the bed, his hands clasped behind his head, watching me thoughtfully. “Do you want me to carry you?”
I smiled wistfully. “I’m okay.”
“What if I wanted to carry you?” He reached his long arm behind my knees and pulled me over to him until I fell over his shoulder.
I heard myself laughing. “No way.”
Though I tried my best, I only managed to hobble out to the stairwell about halfway before Charlie’s arms tangled around me and lifted me off the floor.
“Oh, come on!”
“I ain’t waiting ‘round forever.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I feigned annoyance and crossed my arms over my chest. But neither one of us could pretend I didn’t enjoy being in Charlie’s arms. “I wasn’t going that slowly.”
I felt the morning sun on my face and flinched at the brightness, though I was glad to see the sun had finally gotten through. “You’re right.” He grinned. “’Sides, I would wait forever.”
He took my hand and led me to the same edge of Deck A, where he had first held me in his arms and I had been so grateful for the touch. He dug into his pockets and presented me with a small flip phone that was almost false-looking from its thin plastic veneer.
“Remember—” He hesitated in handing it to me. “Fifteen seconds.”
“Okay, okay.” I was bouncing on my toes. “I don’t need a lecture.”
Charlie was reluctant in handing me the phone. I could sense something was amiss when the flesh of his fingers touched mine, though what it was exactly had not become quite clear to me just then. I suspected a great deal of his stress had to deal with his tiredness.
“When I’m done with this, you should go take a nap.”
“No.” His voice was firm.
I smiled. He sounded like a stubborn child. “Why not?”
He shrugged. “I only get so much time with you. I don’t want to spend it sleepin’.”
I was overwhelmed with Charlie’s open fondness for me. It caused a feeling of warmth in me. While I had always been a member of a loving family, it had never exactly been an expressive one, and now someone who I cared for immensely brought no hesitation to the table to show those same emotions toward me. It was more than a little intimidating.
Without the proper words to express myself, I brushed the stubble back on Charlie’s chin, kissing the peak of his bottom lip.
Robbie picked up on the first ring. This alone put me off because I knew they didn’t allow him to have phones at the base. I figured Dad might pick up, but if I got lucky enough, I would get voice mail.
“Hello?”
“Robbie?”
“Addie! Addie, where are you? Are you okay?” Although he was shouting, I struggled to hear him over the shuffling of something in the background. The sound of an object crashing reached my ears and I heard Dad’s voice.
“Robbie, I’m okay. Tell Dad I’m okay before he hurts himself.” It sounded so good to hear their voices again, I felt my innards ache to be home.
“Addie, just tell us where you are and Dad and I will come and get you.” Dad and Robbie were trying to shout into the phone, asking questions and saying my name. I smiled, I could easily picture them fighting over the receiver.
“I can’t do that, Robbie.”
They both went silent.
“Why, Addie? Are you hurt? Just—”
“I’m okay, Dad. I’m completely unhurt and I’ll be home soon. You have to take my word on this one.”
“Addie, please, just tell us where you are.”
“I promise everything is okay. I love you guys, please don’t worry.”
Then I hung up before they could say anything else.
I handed the phone to Charlie, unaware my hand was shaking from the short interaction. Maybe what set me off the most was knowing how far away I was from it all, how much had changed in such a short amount of time.
Charlie threw the phone into the dark waves, though it was easily lost by the rays of the sun and I never saw where it landed.
I nodded and smiled stiffly. I could feel the sun and salt in my skin and suddenly I felt gross and repugnant, dirty and unclean. The need to refresh myself was almost unbearable.
“I think I need to get cleaned up.”
Charlie only nodded and we walked across the deck hand in hand, this being my only comfort as I thought of my worrisome dad and brother who were probably more worried than ever. I only hoped my calm demeanor hadn’t worried them further.
After I used the restroom, I washed my face and hands, then brushed my teeth, using my finger and some toothpaste. It was far from ideal, but I did feel better. I then pulled my hair up, even taking the time to use the bobby pin in my pocket before looking at myself in the mirror. The bruises around my neck were all but gone—faded yellow markings, that bordered on healed.
As per our routine, Charlie was standing outside the door, yet he stared at the floor—a third cigarette in his mouth when there were two smoked to the butt already on the floor.
“The second you step off this ship, you’re gonna come to your senses.” He smiled at the floor, the weight of the epiphany too much to keep his head up.
“I’m real grateful, don’t get me wrong.” He laughed then, a sprained sound that choked on itself. I flinched at his sadness and pulled the sweatshirt closer around my neck; he wasn’t even being sarcastic.
“But the second you realize how crazy this is, you’ll get your head back. It’s already started, hasn’t it? Pretty soon, I’ll just be a bad memory. You’re gonna live the rest of your life not even remembering you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.”
“No, Charlie, no.” I took the cigarette from him and stomped it out with my shoe, though truthfully it was somewhat pointless, considering it was all but gone anyway. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
I closed my arms around his waist as tightly as I could and stretched until I could feel my wrists touching on the other side. I wanted to squeeze all the doubt from him, comfort him as much as he would let me.
“I plan on loving you until the day I die.” I felt him flinch at the mention of potential death, so I retreated. “So there!” I stuck my tongue out at him, and made the strangest facial expression I could manage. I was grateful that he smiled a little for me, though I had to admit, it wasn’t much.
“Will you stay with me for a while?” he asked. His voice seemed so small then, nearly inaudible.
I smiled against him. “You know I will.”
Once inside, I made him take his boots off and lie down. His eyes fluttered shut within a matter of seconds. Despite my efforts, I too, felt the heaviness of sleep drift against my eyelids. Outside the cabin, I could hear men walking around, chatting in different languages while whistles went off, signaling who only knew what.
In his sleep, Charlie pulled me closer, possessive even in this state. I listened to the rhythmic heartbeat in his chest, thinking I would only let him sleep for a little while so he wouldn’t be angry, but enough for him to actually rest.
I was having a flashback.
Wallace. The fear. My impending end. Dying.
I was dreaming again, right? This was just a nightmare, another awful, terrible expression of my overworked imagination?
I shouted out, though it was cut short as he hit me in the face. When the pain came, it was harsh, forcing my vision upside down as my head lulled to the side.
“Shut up!”
A sharp pain reached me again at my scalp. I could smell the stench of body odor, grease, and fuel. It was everywhere as he yanked me by my hair, dragging me across the room and out the door.
I tried kicking my way out, feeling one of my sandals slip off as I did so. Charlie’s cabin edged farther away as I was pulled down the hall. I screamed out again while trying to scratch at the hand that held me.
His spare hand hit me again.
I could taste blood, though where exactly it came from I wasn’t sure. I heard whimpering, and felt instant shame when I realized the sound was coming from me. I was so pathetic, unfocused, and unsure. I reopened my eyes and tried to make myself aware. Even my worst daydreams had never felt this real. Why wasn’t Charlie waking me up? It could have been like my favorite of Poe’s poems, A Dream within a Dream, without the romance.
I retraced the dream in my head. It hadn’t been a long one, and it was simple enough. The sound of the storm returning had awoken me from my sleep, and I squirmed my way from Charlie’s embrace, thinking I could get some water and be back before I had to wake him. But then something, someone large and terrible, grabbed my arms.
I was pulled into a familiar entryway with container holds.
“You shut the hell up!”
Once inside Hold 6, Wallace pulled me up only to shove me back down to the floor. I picked myself up, still tripping over my bare feet and sprained ankle. Wallace pushed me back down and laughed. As I landed, the air was knocked from me. I was sure my lungs were broken, deflated balloons that could never inflate again. I was confident I was going to die from that single act alone. I felt the tears on my face; the salt they produced stung something on my mouth.
“Can’t believe this crap!” He delivered a kick to my side. “‘Cause of you I’m out of a job. And if Walden thinks he isn’t going to pay me for this gig, he’s got another thing coming.”
“Stop, please!”
He laughed and pulled me by the hair once more across the maze of containers and past the first deck of webs. He was yelling about something, calling me names that were lost in the wind and the sound of the blood rushing to my ears. I shut my eyes and turned off my head. I tried to scream again, yet the sound didn’t come. I envisioned Charlie, but his image was fuzzy against the pounding of my skull. The most ominous feeling of dread fell over me that no one would be coming to save me.
No one was coming to rescue me this time.
“I was just going to snap this pretty little neck. But given the way that hillbilly looks at you, I’m going to make sure to finish you off nice and slow.” His laugh rang in my ears, echoing against the metal containers. I looked away from him then, his face an easel of bruises and scabs that Charlie had painted. “The best part,” he ranted on, “is that I’m going to make him watch. Too bad Walden’s old lady and kid aren’t here.”
I fell from his hand and heard the jingling of chains as they fell from somewhere close by. I tried to scream again, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me inside the confessional. I screamed until my throat felt like roaring acid, then tried to shout it out, the tears getting stuck in my throat. Yet for all my efforts, the sounds caused no effects.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to go get your boyfriend right now.” The sour of his breath came to me. And just then it was easy to imagine him in the dark, just waiting and planning for the perfect time to strike. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll wish I had done you in right the first time. No way I’m getting shoved out ‘cause of some stupid little bitch!”
No, no, no, no. Whether I called out loud or whether the words remained in my head is unclear. Ironically, the most helpful element was the dark, which prevented me from seeing any blood or other stains of body fluid which I knew had to be caked on those surfaces. Instead, my head was stuck on more current events, like my worrisome Dad and that wonderfully handsome jerk above, who I prayed would be okay.
I could deal with dying. I had figured that was going to happen before my time with Charlie was through, but despite everything, I couldn’t stand the idea of him being hurt. I knew now what was worse; I could live a life without Charlie. If I went home and couldn’t find him later, I could at least envision him happy somewhere in the world. But if he was dead, then there would be nothing left to wish for, no hope.
Standing up, I tried leveraging myself against the door. There wasn’t enough light in the booth to see anything but shadows, and even through the heavy faucet of tears, I could smell the rust of the rainwater. Still, I tried not to think of Charlie. Keeping my focus allowed me not to panic. I could feel how tender my face was without having to look at it—the swelling of my lip with my bleeding gum.
The wind continued to throw itself against the sides of the container’s walls. The confessional began to creak as a particularly harsh gust of wind came through the bellows of the hold’s ceiling. I glanced up just as the invisible enemy rocked the entire booth on its back. Immediately I tried to kneel forward. The pain on my ankle was severe—I had forgotten myself and put all of my weight there.
No, no, no. I pushed and pushed some more, but the hatch from the outside refused me completely. Rain poured in from the intricate patterns on the door. And though I leaned on my toes in an attempt to see the door handle and what might be preventing it from opening, the rain and the dark blocked any potential vision.
Horror gripped me. What was I going to do now? How was I supposed to get out of here? Any chance for survival was nil if I waited around until someone let me out. I braced myself and leaned on my good ankle, ramming all of myself into the door with my shoulder. I called out with the pain. Worse yet, the door hadn’t even moved. On the opposite side, I wanted to try the other door, but it was against the steel panels of the floor and refused to move. I found myself having some difficulty breathing. Where had all of the air gone?
Like a wild woman, I began beating my fists on the door. I think I was screaming, too, because later my throat hurt, but I don’t remember for certain. Even if someone had been around, I doubt they would have heard me over the rain and the wind. Every so often, thunder and lightning crackled in the sky. I had been buried alive and the weather was drowning me out. But I had to get out before Wallace came back. I would be lucky if I had four or five minutes.
Something tore my hands, and my ankle throbbed, but I continued to hit and throw myself at the door. My feet kicked at the floor of the confessional, hurting both my damaged and undamaged ankle. Still, nothing gave way.
I felt the time pass as the sun was making its meager attempt to break through the sky. And while I probably should have felt relieved, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was still alive. Did torturing me no longer appeal to Wallace? Or had something else occurred? What if something had happened to the ship during the storm? What if Charlie was hurt?
I pulled my hands out of the sweatshirt pockets, rubbing them together. Overall, neither of these methods was very effective, as I could now see the shady underline of purple at the end of my fingertips. Everything about me was numb except the possibility that Charlie could be in trouble.
In the midst of it all, I saw a kaleidoscope in varieties of blue and green, midnight green to be exact. If there was even the slightest chance that Charlie needed me or my help, then I was going to be there.
Now that there was a little light available to me, I strained my eyes and pried my hand through the carved patterns of the confessional door. Even with my slim hands, I could only manage to reach through with my thumb and first two fingers. The fit was tight but I tried not to focus on that and concentrate instead on the cold metal lock.
The rain made my fingertips slip, and the cold made me think at first that the lock itself may have been a block of ice, keeping me inside. But as I arched my back forward and used my weak torso for further leverage to see lower, I could see it was a padlock.
My mind raced while I remembered what Charlie had said about tumbler locks being the most common kind of locks. Though the odds were unlikely, I thought maybe I could pick it without a wrench, or without seeing the keyhole properly. I was half-tempted to start crying again, knowing how unlikely I was of success. Still, in spite of the hopelessness, my inner overachiever wouldn’t be satisfied until I gave the task everything.
I took the bobby pin from my hair and held it between my thumb and forefinger. If there ever was a time to concentrate, now was the time. Although the worst of the storm was over, the rain continued on through the slants of sunlight. I silently cursed the rain for blocking the warmth, for making my teeth chatter. But at the same time, I counted the hollow sound of the pitter-patter as it echoed through the hold. I counted backward from one hundred and began again.
As my thumb and ring finger escaped from the confessional, I continued to count, but I also tried to channel Charlie. Although his large hands would never be able to conquer this, I could imagine him thinking up something clever. A very small piece of me hoped he would be proud of me when I escaped.
If I ever did.
I found the bottom of the lock where the keyhole was. This was the easy part. My hand wouldn’t stretch any farther. A sob escaped me with the frustration, but I pushed my hand forward, watching my knuckle claw its way to the outside, leaving fragments of flesh as a sacrifice to the ancient wood.
I bit down on my tongue to keep from crying out. I didn’t know why Wallace hadn’t come for me yet, but for all I knew he was right around the corner and all he needed was a reminder that I was in here.
So I kept my mouth shut and ignored the pain, clenching my fist to try and shake the pain loose once my hand was safety free. I sighed. Now if I could only get the rest of my body out of there.
I held the bobby pin in my free hand and arched my back once again to help get a better look at what I was doing. Within moments, however, my torso and back hurt considerably and the pain caused my free hand to shake. I swore at my lack of sit-ups and lay back down. I counted back down from one hundred.
What if Charlie was dead? What if the others had decided it would be funny to let me rot in here? How long would it take me to starve to death?
What if? What if? What if?
I tried again, this time propping myself up on my elbows and trying to rest some of my weight on my good ankle. As the bobby pin entered the keyhole, I heard an audible crack and I gasped, thinking I had broken it. I remained completely still for twenty-seven pitter-pattering drops before I braced myself and began moving the end.
With a sigh, the last of the pins came undone. I wasn’t even sure I had done it until I heard something like a click ring out against the wind. I pulled back the hairpin and reeled in my hand as well, wincing but otherwise ignoring the pain. Excitement doesn’t even quite begin to describe how I felt as I worked my way out of there. Even though my ankle stung with fresh pain, I kicked the door with both feet. I kicked with the same viciousness one might use to hit a piñata, laughing and no longer caring if anyone could hear me or not. I felt dominant, victorious.
I pushed with both arms, though they felt like weak string, and my legs, putty. After endless moments, I managed to create enough space between the open door and the chains that held it shut to maneuver myself out. I arched and wiggled forward, my clothes and bare flesh sticking to the wood and velvet tapestry beneath me. I shuddered. It really could have been a coffin.
Once outside of the confessional, I collapsed to my knees. My legs felt sore and stiff from lying flat for so long, but the pain was not unwelcome. I reached for my face and felt the wet there. I was crying and hadn’t realized it.
Pulling the hair back from my face and neck, I craned my neck to the sky and tried to stretch that out as well. It seemed the rain had stopped and only leftover water dripped from the containers above. Clouds moved freely in the sky, tufts of white hovering around the blue and gray.
I put my hand to my chest and counted the beats. How was I so fortunate to escape death multiple times in a single week?
I pushed myself up with my hand, instantly regretting the act. Though it was still hard to see, I could make out the cuts I had given myself. Ironically, the damage I had done to myself seemed to be the worst of it. My head ached considerably, though it could have been from hunger in addition to being hit. And my ankle still ached.
I stood up and tried to walk. Dizziness overcame me immediately and my body threatened to black out. I took another step and felt the grinding pain in my ankle slip up my leg. I clenched my empty stomach. I hadn’t frozen, so didn’t need thawing out, but I could feel how weak my body had become.
I reached out for something to hold onto, my fingers tingling when I tried to wrap them around a pillar in the hold. They felt slightly more comfortable as they gripped the pillar, though my shaking failed to stop. I tried to count the pitter-patter of leftover rain off the webbing, though it didn’t help in the slightest.
Now I was free, but where was Charlie?
A stampede of noise answered my question. I heard my name being called from outside the hold, and bellowed laughter. I hated to hear Charlie so distressed, and at the same time, I was so grateful to know he was still alive and capable of speaking.
I dropped to the floor, not caring that I was soaking, and crawled beyond the pillar and past a segment of containers that was only stacked a few yards high. I felt water slow me down, stretching the cotton of the sweatshirt. The fear that Wallace or even Charlie might have seen me as they barged in was overwhelming.
“Addie!”
The clanking of metal accompanied the laughter. Charlie called out for me again and again. I bit my tongue to fight my own tears. I could taste the blood from my assault on my swollen lip.
“Relax, loverboy, she isn’t far!”
I peered around the corner, carefully insuring the hood of the sweatshirt was well secured over my head and face. Although I exposed one of my eyes, I saw Wallace pointing in the direction of the confessional, muttering something into Charlie’s ear. The worst of it was the knife pressed at his back; I could see it glimmering in the light that struggled to get through. “Bastard! I’ll kill you!”
I knew calling out would give me away. And then what? Wallace might put me back in the confessional and that was if I was lucky. I had to stall. If I kept quiet, I could sneak out and get help. Where in the hell was Ben Walden or those brutes Yuri and Reid when a girl needed them?
He called out for me again. I closed my eyes and felt the tears slip. I tried not to focus on the sadness I heard there, but he sounded so completely shattered that I couldn’t stop it from breaking my heart.
“Damn!” Something metal slammed again. “I was hoping to drag that out.” He laughed some more. “Must have hit her harder than I thought.”
A growl emerged from the depths of Charlie, though I knew he wasn’t Charlie anymore. He had become that darkness inside of himself. He was letting the beast take over now, not caring about himself or the consequences of his actions.
With my peripheral vision, I saw the clashing of limbs and a torso against a metal side, but I lunged myself from behind the container and began running down the gangway. If either of them noticed me, they didn’t acknowledge it. Again, I was completely grateful for my ability to be invisible. Or maybe they did see me and I was too consumed with getting help for Charlie to realize it. I knew I could only be helpful to him this way. I didn’t feel the skin on my foot splitting open against the metal planks or the wind ripping against my face. I ignored the cramp in my side when it began and tried to pretend like the world wasn’t moving agonizingly slow until I got to the door of the hold.
I clamped onto each end of the large spinning wheel door and tried to budge it. The only thing that resulted was a groan that erupted from the lips of the door and my own divine swearing.
Behind me something struck. I could hear it echo as it landed on the metal floor; the sound of a body was unmistakable. I could see Charlie against the floor. He seemed quick to move, but his body only dodged more blows. Wallace had been slowed by his own injuries, and my eyes searched for some kind of hope. I didn’t have to look far, finding it within shielded glass; I released the fire extinguisher from its cage with my elbow. It was only after the adrenaline wore off that I would feel the pain there, but the extra clothing prevented any skin from breaking.
With whatever I had, I swung at Wallace’s knees. Having his back to me, he never saw me coming, never even expected me to be anywhere near him. So although I may not have bruised him as much as inconvenienced him, it was enough for him to turn his attentions away from Charlie.
During their brief argument, my love had done something horrendous to the side of this man’s face, as the muscle tissue and bone no longer fit into place, but rather slid off at the end of his left eye socket and draped down to his lip. I gasped when I saw it, felt my fingers grow weak with the weight of the fire extinguisher and it fell from my hands.
As it landed and echoed, Charlie pulled himself from the floor and charged at the small glint of light in Wallace’s hand. Logic told me to try and hit him again, but both bodies were scrambling on top of each other at such rapid speed, I knew I could never be fast enough to target just one.
Failing anything else, I ran back to the door and tried it again. This time I screamed, putting all of my weight into it as I pulled.
Mid-scream I fell to the floor.
The door was opened from the outside and I had less than three seconds to cover my head before Reid and Polo practically stepped on top of me.
Frankly, though, they could have stepped on me and I still would have been completely ecstatic to see them.
Polo managed to brush by me with his Polo laugh, noticing somehow in the chaos that I was there. “Hey! Hey! Sorry, Addie!”
More limbs and fists entered the tumbleweed of violence and I had to look away. As I did, Yuri ran past me, nodding in my direction. Ben Walden came through the doorway behind him, as placid as ever. “Are you all right, dear?”
I nodded frantically, to which he patted me on the shoulder and walked into the chaos. For a brief moment, he turned back to me. “You should probably wait outside.”
I hardly needed to be told twice and stumbled my way out the door on shaky legs.
Waiting.