Page 8 of Roman

“Boat?” this is the first I’m hearing of going out to sea.

“Yeah.The Killer. Lara named it. We take the kids out fishing on it. They love it.” He tells me as if using his family’s boat to track down human traffickers is the most normal thing in the world.

“Do you think she will be okay? I mean… will we find her… alive?” I choke on the word and hate the taste it leaves in my mouth.

“She is an asset, and from the pictures I’ve seen, an expensive one.” I try not to wince at his blunt words. “Believe me, keeping her alive is in their best interest. It brings them more money if she is intact.” The word intact rolls around in my head and turns my gut sour.

“You mean since she is young and a virgin,” Roman says, breaking his silence.

“That would be the reason,” Steven confirms what I already knew but didn’t want to think.

“How much longer?” Roman speaks again.

“Couple hours.” Steven starts on about another adventure he and Lara had involving a cabin and I zone out, staring into the darkness as we drive through Idaho and finally Washington.

“Is this it?” I sit up straighter and look through the windshield to see a marina lit up from the darkness of the sea.

“This would be it. Come on, let’s go and get some sleep.” Steven shuts the truck off then gets out and reaches into the back to pull out a large duffle bag. I hadn’t even thought of packing myself anything before I went to the clubhouse or even before I climbed into this truck. It’s not like I had anything to pack I suppose. All the clothes that were in the apartment at the bar didn’t fit anymore.

I step out of the truck and take a deep breath of the ocean air. It reminds me of home. I let out a defeated breath and follow behind Steven as he leads the way to his boat. I try not to acknowledge a still pissed Roman as he trails behind us, not trying one bit to hide the fact he doesn’t like that I’m here. “There is one bedroom. The kitchen table also pulls out into a bed. There is a small couch in the bedroom if you two can’t handle sharing a bed. I would offer but I’m afraid if Lara found out I shared a bed with either of you she would cut my dick off.” Steven tells us as he hops from the dock ontoThe Killer. The boat sways with the sudden boarding causing me to stumble a bit when I lean forward to get on myself. Before I totally lose my footing a heavy arm wraps around me hauling me back up onto the dock.

“Try and keep yourself from falling in. It’s been a long time since I’ve been around this much water, my swimming skills are rusty,” Roman grunts and in one swift movement he steps onto the boat then reaches out without any effort to grab me around my waist once again to pull me onto the deck of the boat.

“I can swim just fine thank you,” I gruff and push myself from Roman’s grip. Glancing around the boat I notice it’s a newer style boat. I don’t know what I was expecting but it being this nice wasn’t it. There is a row of seating that is under a dark blue awning. The stairs that lead down into the boat have a tube stuffed into them. A tube that looks like a pink frosting-covered doughnut. With sprinkles.

“That belongs to Andera. She loves her doughnuts.” Steven grabs the tube and tosses it elsewhere on the boat. I don’t see where it lands but it must not fall off because Steven seems satisfied with where it goes. “Come on. I’ll take you on the tour.” He waves his hand and disappears down below. I glance back at Roman who is staring at me with his unamused expression that I hate on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap and start toward the stairs only to be pulled back.

“Like what Pria?”

“Like you’re pissed at me.” I jerk away. “I have every right to be here.”

“And I have every right to be pissed too. Don’t I?” I shrink back a little at his words.

“Come on you two. I want to get some damn sleep before we start pirating out on the high seas,” Steven calls out from below deck. I take that as my chance to escape Roman’s glare and take off down to where Steven is. He shows me the room and leaves me to it. Since I have nothing to change into I get right under the covers and stare up at the ceiling. The room is small and there is no way Roman will fit on that thing Steven called a couch. He hasn’t come in here. I made sure to close the door behind Steven when he left hoping that would deter Roman from coming inside. Of course there is some part of me that wants him to bust through that door and demand answers. Demand I tell him everything that happened since the day he forced me to leave the clubhouse. The other part of me wishes I will never have to have that conversation. That part wins as I lay there in the darkness and let the steading rocking of the boat lull me to sleep.

8

Roman

She is still down below deck sleeping as Steven pulls up the anchor and we set out from the marina. He points the boat south and we start our journey. “What is the story here? Between you and her?” Steven jerks his head in the direction Pria is.

“Story? Why would there be a story?”

“The two of you clearly don't see eye to eye. Not to mention the fact that her and the kid live in California and you are in Montana.”

“I just found out barely forty-eight hours ago that I have a daughter and that daughter has been kidnaped by traffickers. I guess that is pretty much the story.” What a God damn mess.

“You didn’t know about her?” How the fuck would I have known? Pria left and I never heard from her again. Not that I expected to since the way I treated her was anything but friendly. I wasn’t even a good lover toward her, however long that spell lasted. The span of a sneeze I suppose. It was a snap then it was over, whatever it was between us. There was no chance for us anyway. Maybe she was right to keep the paternity of our daughter a secret. I wouldn’t make a good father, I made sure she knew that fourteen years ago.

“How long have we been out here?” Pria comes up from behind us holding a cup in her hand.

“I see you found the coffee. Good. Here Roman. Take over for me.” Steven steps back and waves his hand at the helm then takes off to where Pria just came from.

“Weird fucker,” I mumble and step forward to take the spindles in my hands. “We’ve been out here for about two hours now,” I tell Pria when she doesn’t leave. Instead, she steps closer, looking over the controls as if she knows what they all mean. For all I know she could. I don’t know jack about boats except that they float. And fucking sink. I’ve been on the ocean once and that was enough for me.

“I owe you an explanation,” she tells me gripping the mug tighter in her hands.

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