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Confused, I shook my head. “Why aren’t you fighting back?” I knew the question was absurd. That I should hit him over the head and be done with it. But something in the back of my mind knew this wasn’t right. He took each hit I’d given him and didn’t try to grab the weapon out of my hand. What kind of kidnapper did that?
My heart thudded against my chest. A feeling of unease settled in my stomach and I stepped forward, but quickly stepped back.
No. It couldn’t be.
But my body moved closer toward him and, in one quick movement, I pulled the balaclava from his head.
I gasped. “Oh, my god. OH. MY. GOD!”
A plethora of emotions rolled through me, and I stumbled, trying to step away from him. My head spun and I felt like I would faint. But then, one look at his face and heat ignited in my body. A raging fire stoked by betrayal.
“Let me explain,” he said, taking a step toward me. I was no longer afraid. No, that overwhelming emotion was replaced by anger. Unfiltered, uncontrollable rage. I’d never felt it before. My fingertips tingled, my chest burned, and my head pounded while a red mist clouded my vision.
I knew that if I stayed a second longer, I would hit him again, and harder than I had before. I crossed my arms and grounded my back molars. Through clenched teeth, I said, “TAKE. ME. HOME. NOW.”
“Nikole, let me explain.” He reached toward me and I slapped away his hand.
“Take me home now, or I will press charges.”
“You won’t do that.”
I laughed without any humor. “You know me so well, do you, Jacob Devereux? Well, let me tell you something. You don’t know me at all. If you think you can do something like this, and I will just sit and listen to your explanation, then you know nothing about me!” I shouted.
He tried to reach for me again, and I pushed him away. He pressed his lips together, and I knew there was an apology on his lips, but I didn’t want to hear it.
While anger still simmered in me, there was no denying the heat on my face was also from humiliation. “I want to go home,” I said, and my voice cracked. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I willed the tears away. I would not cry, but my emotions were so volatile. I didn’t know what I was feeling anymore. It changed by the second.
His face softened, and he held out his hand. I hated how much I wanted someone’s arms around me right now. Someone to comfort me.
The fact that it was him made me angrier. I pushed him away with all my might.
Sadly, he barely budged. He pulled me into his arms and I struggled against him.
“No. No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to comfort me when you’re the one who did this to me.”
“I knew you’d be safe and no harm would come to you. I needed you to understand how easy it would be for someone to take you, even with someone watching around you. It may have been high-handed, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get through to you.”
He sighed. “But… “
“But?”
“Now that I can see the fear on your face, I wish I’d thought of something else. I’m sorry, Nikole.”
I didn’t want to forgive him. I didn’t. My body still trembled from the rollercoaster of emotions racing through my veins. The aftermath of my anger left me drained.
I pushed him again, and this time he stepped back. I narrowed my eyes at him and punched his arm for good measure. Then I dropped my arms, closed my eyes, and exhaled loudly through my mouth.
“Do you forgive me?” he asked hesitantly. It was the hesitation that reassured me he wasn’t being flippant about it.
“Not yet,” I said. Besides, I still hadn’t forgiven him for driving away.
He nodded and inhaled deeply, pushing his hands in his pockets. “If you still want to go home, I’ll take you back.”
He crossed the deck and left me standing alone on the side of the boat. Looking around, I realized it wasn’t a boat at all but a mega-yacht. A sleek white one with light wood trim.
I stood there, listening to the ocean, trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours. I couldn’t believe it even though I’d lived it.
I didn’t know what to feel.
