Quiver (a Suspenseful Romance Novel) (9 page)

“
Y
ou bastard
!” I yelled at him through gritted teeth as he stepped back into the cabin.

I tied the robe shut. I couldn’t look at him; I was seething. I felt like I’d been kicked when I was already face-down on the ground.

“Kate, oh god, no.” He came rushing to my side and tried to hold me. I struggled and battered my hands against his chest.

“Get away from me!” I demanded.

“Look at me!” he said, clasping his hands either side of my face, forcing my chin upwards, “Listen to me. This is the only way he’ll believe that… that I’ve gotten rid of the problem – of you.”

Tears leaked from my eyes and streamed down my face.

“Don’t you see? I could never hurt you.” He wiped my tears away with a soft brush of his thumb.

“We have to make it look like an accident, like you got drunk and fell off the boat. I have it all planned, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Please don’t worry,” he added quickly.

“Don’t worry? Are you crazy? You’ve brought me into the lion’s den and you tell me not to fucking worry?”

“I promise, I’ll get you out of this,” he leaned forward, close to my lips. “You have to trust me.”

His breath mingled with mine and as daft as it sounds, my knees went weak.

I melted as he kissed me again. His touch was sensual and addictive. Trying desperately to order all the questions that ran through my mind, trying not to let myself get too distracted, I managed to ask, “What’s the plan?”

He stroked my forehead and caressed the side of my face. “You need to get ready. I brought you some clothes to wear. You need to blend in if this is going to work,” he said as he gestured to the bed.

A small black dress that no doubt would barely cover the tops of my thighs, lay waiting for me on the crumpled bed sheets. Chunky platform heels with peep-toe openings rested at the base of the bed.

“So, let me get this straight. You want me to put my glad-rags on, go mingle with drunken masses and then, what? You push me overboard?” I bent down to inspect the shoes – surprisingly, they were the right size.

“Yes, well, not exactly. You got the first half right. I’ll pretend to push you overboard, all hell will break loose, and you’ll be able to hide in plain sight. When the ship returns to the dock you can disembark among the stampeding idiots and you’re home free… we’re home free.”

“Are you serious? I was joking!”

“It’s the best shot we’ve got Kate.”

“You forgot one thing, genius,” I threw back at him. “Everyone will notice that I’m not wearing any makeup, and I don’t think there’s any complimentary mascara and foundation in the bathroom.”

“Fear not, o snarky one,” he said as he scooted around the side of the bed and retrieved my formerly lost handbag.

I smiled. I couldn’t help it.

His face dropped, “Please tell me you do have some make-up in here, right?”

I laughed then frowned at him. “Of course I bloody do, I’m a woman aren’t I? It’s like a prerequisite.”

“OK, good.”

He walked back towards the small sofa and made himself comfy.

“What are you doing? I need to get dressed,” I said.

He cocked eyebrow and his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Exactly,” he replied.

I inspected the dress on the bed. “You forgot to bring me underwear.”

“I didn’t forget.” He grinned, and I let the bathrobe fall to the floor.

“
K
ate
, you know how to swim, right?” Max whispered. We descended to a lower deck and moved towards the roar of loud music. I stopped pulling at the hem of my new black dress; as expected, it was way too short, and I concentrated all my effort on clinging to the railing as I carefully descended the steps – more like a ladder, really – as I teetered on heels that were not meant for boating.

The MS Carousel had already gobbled up plenty of clubbers and left the dock; she was cruising her way down the river towards the mouth of the Tyne, swaying gently.

“What do you mean, just in case?” My eyes opened wide.

“Well, you know, worst case scenario and all,” he replied, a worried expression plaguing his handsome features.

“I’m pulling your leg, of course I do,” I said, grinning.

“Stop smiling like a Cheshire cat. If one of dad’s goons sees you having a merry ol’ time, they’ll know something is up.”

“Oh come on, those beefcakes? They wouldn’t be able to put two and two together even if the answer was tattooed on their biceps, let alone figure out your master plan.” I chuckled.

“I’m serious, Kate.”

“OK, fine. Misery-guts it is from now on,” I said, trying to neutralise my face. I was too giddy, and nervous energy buzzed around my every cell.

Max opened a door to the main section of the nightclub and we were confronted with the blaring sounds of cheesy pop-music from the 70s; I hated theme nights and could really do without ABBA reminding me that I couldn’’t escape even if I wanted to.

The contrast with the bright corridor made it difficult to see. I had to blink a few times as my eyes adjusted to my new, obscure surroundings. Coloured strobe lights swirled and spun in the distance, occasionally refracting off toughened-glass tables, which made the job even harder, but Max didn’t seem to notice. I kept a tight hold of his arm as we squeezed past happy people to the main dance floor.

The place was packed; drunkards were busy dancing and sweating to tunes that were ingrained into everyone’s head. Barely-dressed go-go dancers on podiums were grinding to the music at the edge of the dance-floor; they were out of reach and on display like moving art installations. Burly, thickset individuals with earpieces tried to blend into the crowd, but they were too easy to spot, too serious.

We stood at the end of one of the bars, and Max immediately got served. He placed a small shot glass of clear liquid in front of me.

“Drink,” he shouted over the noise.

I shrugged. What the hell? I thought. I would be needing some Dutch courage to get me through the night. I downed the shot in one, and I gasped, reacting to the burning liquid as it travelled down my throat to my empty stomach.

“Before I forget,” he said into my ear, “you’ll need this.”

He removed from his suit pocket a thick white envelope with a sealed flap and handed it to me. From the feel, I knew instinctively that it contained a wedge of bank notes.

“Now that you’ve lost your job, that’ll keep you going till I can figure something else out,” he explained.

I kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” I mouthed, and placed the envelope in the bag that crossed my chest and hung by my side. I would count it later; I couldn’t think about what I would do or where I would go if we managed to pull this charade off. I had no one else to run to. This town had been my home; I’d be on my own again, but I supposed a fresh start did have its appeal. Maybe I could change my name.

“C’mon, let’s get this over with,” he said. He took my hand and laced his fingers in between mine and guided me away.

B
utterflies churned in my stomach
; I wasn’t able to tell if it was a result of the boat moving or nerves at what we were about to attempt. It was probably a bad mixture of both. I clung to Max’s arm and followed his lead, moving away from the central dancing area towards a quieter alcove that contained a line of plushy-comfy looking booths. We didn’t stop to sit but continued on. We passed couples huddled in their seats, arms wrapped around each other, necking with not a care in the world.

We came upon a solid hatch, inlaid with thick glass, with an equally solid man standing in front of it. The man nodded to Max and stepped aside. The guard unnaturally held his arms out away from his sides in a bizarre and awkward fashion, as if he had a bulky item wedged under his armpits. I could only think of one object that would do that.

Max opened the door to the observation deck and braced himself as the salty breeze blew against the weighty hatch. We stepped through onto the wooden deck and I clung to the bottom of the dress as it flapped to reveal the very tops of my thighs.

The difference outside was both alarming and strangely reassuring; inside was choked with noise, sweat and the smells of old booze, but out on the deck I was able to think, hearing only the calm, swishing sounds of waves as the ship cruised onward.

“Do they all wear guns?” I asked.

“Who? Oh, the bouncers? Well, yeah, most of them. But you didn’t hear that from me,” he replied.

“Isn’t that a little bit illegal?” I quipped.

He gestured to the surrounding water, “Do you see any Police out here?”

“Point taken.”

I stood at the railing. My hands gripped the roughly painted and chipped metal bars, and I closed my eyes, letting the wind sweep over me. My hair was pinned up, but strands had started to come loose at the sides; they danced around my head in the air.

Max pressed his body against mine and rubbed my bare arms. It wasn’t too cold out, but I liked him being close; I liked the warmth from his body and the concern he showed for me.

“I doubt anyone will hear you scream. Maybe a few will if there’s anyone in the smoking area behind the partition… but mostly it’ll just be for effect,” he said.

I nodded and looked around. “Then you want me to hide over there?” I asked, gesturing to a small recess that housed a cylindrical white shape tucked away into the bulkhead.

“Yeah, that’s it. Just hide behind the capsule. Once I raise the alarm, they’ll be a ton of confusion. You should be able to slip out through the other hatch just down there. It shouldn’t be guarded by then. Even so they probably won’t recognise you once you let your hair down.”

“It sounds like you’ve done this before,” I joked.

He shrugged. “I’ve watched when the crew have done man-overboard drills. I stayed mostly out of the way though.”

He hugged me tight and felt me tremble.

“You’re not having second thoughts are you?”

“No,” I replied, “I’m just worried about you. What will happen to you? What if I don’t see you again?” I snuggled into his chest, not wanting to let go.

“Don’t worry about me; if it all goes to plan, I’ll be fine. You’re not going to get rid of me that easy now that I have you.”

He lifted my chin and warmed me with his blazing golden eyes. One last kiss before the madness, I thought. I could’ve stayed there forever in his arms, never letting him stop kissing me.

“Are you ready?” he asked, pulling away from my lips.

“As I’ll ever be. You should probably cover your ears.” He held onto my forearms as I took a small step back and I inhaled as much air into my lungs as I could.

I screamed into the night, letting all the rage, anger and fear that had accumulated over the last few days, building within me like a pressurised bottle, be carried off taken by the wind. The shriek pierced my ears, and then the world went silent.

An almighty crack exploded behind me; a gunshot so loud I thought my eardrums had erupted.

I turned towards where the sound originated from. And my heart thudded to a stop while my stomach dropped to the floor.

“Let her go, Max!” Eric shouted over the crashing waves.

My head spun. How was Eric here? Why did Eric have a gun? Why was he shooting at us?

Max still held onto my arms and pulled me back, trying to shield me. I looked from him to Eric standing 15 feet away from us, a gun levelled at Max’s chest.

“Hello, brother,” Max replied, ignoring his request.

I blinked. Brother? The roar from the waves beating against the hull seemed to get louder. I must not have heard that correctly, I thought.

“You are no brother of mine, asshole!” Eric spat back, and edged closer. “Kate, get away from him.”

My pulse juddered back to life, racing through my veins, and it seemed like my heart was trying to tunnel its way out of my chest. I had to do something to make this madness stop.

Max reluctantly let go of my hands as I pulled them away from him. I tried to get in between them and faced Eric. I raised a palm towards him, hoping he’d lower the gun.

“Eric, you don’t understand,” I said.

“Move out of the way, Kate. I saw him, he was going to toss you over the side! Come here,” he pleaded.

Not wanting to, but knowing I had to, I stepped cautiously towards Eric. I had to diffuse the situation.

“Put the gun down, Eric,” I said.

Out of the corner of my eye, behind Eric, a hulking man in a black suit came silently through the hatch, his eyes pinned on the target in front of him, ready to do some harm.

Max saw the danger and grabbed my arm, tugging me back. Eric did not sense the threat coming up behind him - he only saw Max struggling to get control over me. His eyes saw red; he aimed at Max and squeezed the trigger. I screamed, but it was too late.

The force of the bullet hit Max like a galloping elephant. He stumbled and fell, still clutching my arm, and dragged me down with him, he slumped to the wooden deck.

Our limbs were tangled in the confusion… there was so much blood. A dark crimson pool gushed from under Max’s still body, staining each plank it touched.

Another shot fractured the air, but I ignored it and concentrated on Max.

“Max!” I screamed, trying hard to cling to my sanity. His shirt was no longer white but dyed a ghastly shade of maroon. As I knelt over his body I pressed my hands against his chest and tried to search for the entry wound. My vision blurred, and I couldn’t understand why. I blinked rapidly to clear the obstruction but it was of no use as the smear kept reappearing.

“Help! Somebody help!” I yelled.

Strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist and I was yanked to a standing position. My hands were ripped from Max’s body. I had no strength in my legs, and I leaned against the man holding me up, not looking at his face.

“You have to help him!” I screamed again, trying to propel myself back to Max.

Over by the hatch, another man lay on the floor, face down, dark liquid seeping from his body.

“Kate!” The man holding me shook me.

I looked up and recognised a once-welcomed face.

“Fuck.” He looked around at the gathering crowd. “We need to get off this boat. Can you swim?” he asked, trying to shake an answer out of me again.

“Why?” I muttered, dazed and confused. How would my being able to swim help Max, I thought? Screams and panicked cries from curious people who’d come to see what the noise was filled my ears, and more alerted onlookers filled the observation deck.

Men in black suits tried to push their way through the crowd.

“Never mind,” Eric said. In one smooth motion he picked me up and cradled me in his arms. For a brief second I inhaled and recognised that once sweet scent of vanilla. It took me back to where all this began. It seemed so long ago now, but the smell suddenly curdled and turned sour.

All of sudden I was weightless, flying through the sky. No, that wasn’t right – I was falling. My stomach flipped, and I screamed as I looked down to see nothing but a black abyss.

My body slapped hard against the excruciating cold water, and I inhaled a mouthful of it. I tried to open my eyes, but they stung too much. I couldn’t tell which way was up, or how far below the surface I was. I kicked my feet, and it felt like forever before I sensed air on my face. I gasped, coughed, and nearly choked on another half-pint of river water when a new wave splashed over me.

Floating and turning in the water, I looked for the ship; its engine had propelled it on its course back up the river. It was no longer near me, and there was no indication that it was turning back.

I was being dragged farther away from the ship as the tide swept me downstream. I couldn’t panic; I just needed to get to the shore before being flushed out to sea. Just don’t think about the cold water, I thought, or the filth that lurked at the bottom of the river. Or Max, unmoving, his eyes shut and face spattered with blood.

Away in the distance, three loud whistles sounded from the ship, and cut through the black night.

I shook my head, trying to wipe the images of Max’s body away, kicked off and started to drive my arms into the water, moving towards the south side, the closest side, of the river. I could use the tide to my advantage, I thought, and I aimed for a grassy bank not far away. Orange street lights on the bank’s horizon guided my way.

But my arms tired quickly and became increasingly sore; the tide was too strong. My body was aching, and I was slowing down. The cold penetrated my bones and I shook, but I told myself not to stop, not to cry. Oh god, Max. I halted, bobbing in the water, letting the current take me. I flashed back to his face, his body lifeless on the deck, his blood that had dyed my hands red. Pointless tears streamed down my already soaked face, and I wanted to give up. I’d been through enough. I was too tired, too cold and drowsy.

My shoulders dipped beneath the water, the river pulling at my lifeless feet, and my chin ducked under the surface. I took my last breath and closed my eyes and let myself drift. For the first time in my life, I let go. The waves washed over my head, and I sank deeper.