Page 30 of Fire Island
The knife slips, hitting the floor.
Fuck. No.
“Sneaky little bitch, hey.” He closes in, swiping the rusted blade from the deck. He presses it to my throat. “You wanna play, slut?”
I shake my head.No.
Crowding me against the wall of the cabin, his hot, beer-laced breath hits my face as he presses his hard body against mine. The EPIRB digs into my back. I wince. He pulls back and lowers the knife. The blade drags down my top, tugging the flimsy material past my breasts, exposing my lacy bra.
He growls, tilting his head like a madman.
I tug my top back up and the device tucked into my jeans moves, toppling from its safe hold to the deck.
God, no.
How can I be so hopeless at this?
He grabs my shirt, pressing me against the wall as he bends down and plucks up the EPIRB in one hand. The green flashing light oscillates through the small cabin, lighting our faces in a sickening shade. “Oh, now I’m just going to have fun with you,” he snarls. He tosses the device to the side.
With both hands, he grips my shoulders and throws me to the deck. I land by the EPIRB and scramble backward, fingers reaching for it. He grabs my legs, dragging me back toward him.
I kick out, snapping one of his fingers back.
“Ah! Fuck you, bitch!” he roars.
A scuffle outside on the deck tells me Timothy is awake.
I make for the EPIRB, scurry to my feet, and rush the door, bursting out onto the deck. I toss the device over the side. It hits the water with a small splash, and I hope the current doesn’t steal it too far.
“What the hell is going on?” Timothy screeches, grabbing me when I fail to put enough deck between us.
“Little bitch wants to get roughed up.” The big guy fills the cabin doorway.
“No! Get off me.” I try to hit Timothy with anything I can. My head, elbows, fists, knees. He blocks everything I send out.
Weak from days of starvation and no water, I sag against his bony frame.
“Coast Guard to Millennia, over.”
Emmett.
Emmett!
“You stupid fucking cow!” the big guy roars.
“Coast Guard to Millennia, your EPIRB activated, please respond, over.”
“Emmett!” His name is a raw desperate sound. I know he can’t hear me, but I have to do something before I fall apart.
“Fuck, just respond.” Timothy waves at the cabin. “Tell them we accidentally knocked it off the boat or something.”
“You stupid? We respond, then they know where we are!”
Um, pretty sure the EPIRB has our location pinned...
I keep my mouth clamped shut. The two men start arguing. Big guy comes out to the deck, hands flying around, accusations flying further. Timothy releases me, stepping into his space.
I make a run for the cabin. With shaking hands, I snatch up the radio. “Emmett! Help! Emmett! It’s Evie! Please help me!”
