Page 62 of The Summer Inn on Plum Island
His words filtered through her fear. Reluctantly, she nodded, and he slowly removed his hand.
“We need to lie down and pretend we’re still out.” Ben glanced toward the bed.
“Oh, no!” Dawn hissed. “How do I know this is not some plot to kidnap me.”
“Okay, fine,” Ben shrugged. “The way I see it. You have two choices: my way or face whoever’s out there.” He stared at her. “I could always knock you out. Then I would at least be able to get the edge on whoever’s brought us here.”
With a reluctant nod, Dawn complied, her mind racing as she resumed her position on the bed with Ben beside her. They had no sooner lay down when the door creaked open moments later, and hushed voices spilled into the cabin. Dawn’s heart raced, and she tried to relax her mind so as not to give herself away. She felt Ben’s warm, solid back press into her, giving her some comfort, even if it was from a convicted kidnapper.
Better the devil you knowran through Dawn’s mind.
“Good, they’re still out. Let’s get off this thing. I hate boats,” a voice grumbled.
As the footsteps receded, the tension in the cabin hung thick as they lay waiting. Dawn’s stomach churned mercilessly with the motion of the sea. She hated this feeling. Ben eventually rose, his movements cautious, and Dawn watched, lying still as he crept to the door and peered out.
“I think the coast is clear,” Ben murmured, turning back to her with tentative relief.
Dawn was off the bed in an instant despite the queasiness that gripped her.
“Maybe you should stay here until I’ve investigated the boat,” Ben suggested.
“Not a chance, bud,” Dawn said with an assertiveness that she didn’t feel.
Her legs felt wobbly, and her stomach rolled with the sway of the ocean. It wasn’t that Dawn hated sailing. She actually loved it. It was sailing that hated her as she was plagued with sea sickness.
“Fine, but stay behind me, and if I tell you to, duck!” Ben commanded.
Dawn nodded in agreement and made a mental note not to shake her head as she nearly got sick on his shoes.
They navigated through the luxurious corridors of the superyacht, Dawn’s mind a whirlwind of questions and fear.
“Are we on Alex’s new boat?” Dawn asked Ben, her voice a whisper against the soft hum of the yacht’s idle engines.
Ben didn’t answer as they ascended to one of the decks just in time to see a speedboat roaring away into the darkness of the early morning. Dawn felt a twinge of desperation at the sight of the departing boat and suddenly felt the weight of her situation. She was stuck on a massive boat with Ben Hardy. She felt her pockets. Her phone was missing.
Awesome!Dawn looked toward the direction the speed boat had disappeared in the inky blackness.
“Come on, let’s get to the cockpit.” Ben frowned as he led the way there. “There’s no one on this yacht.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m getting an awful feeling of deja vu.”
Dawn shuddered at how unsettlingly quiet the yacht was. As Dawn and Ben reached the cockpit, the reality of their situation began to sink in. They were moored somewhere in the Atlantic, the vast expanse of water around them shimmering under the fading moonlight. Dawn leaned the palm of her hand against one of the walls as she breathed through the nausea.
“Right!” Ben nodded, looking at her. “I forgot. You get seasick.”
“You should’ve thought of that before kidnapping someone,” Dawn pointed out.
Ben gritted his teeth, and his eyes flashed as he hissed. “I didn’t kidnap you…” His voice was laced with irritation. “You know what? Think what you like,princess.I don’t care. All I care about right now is getting back to shore before the Coastguard swarms this boat.”
“What are you doing?” Dawn asked with labored breaths, gripping her stomach.
“Keep your eyes fixed on a point on the horizon. It will help with the motion sickness,” Ben advised as he attempted to start the yacht, his hands moving expertly over the controls, but his frown deepened. “It’s not here,” he muttered, his search for the key or code ending in frustration.
“Can’t you just hot-wire it or something?” Dawn asked, her gaze fixed on the horizon as Ben had instructed—anything to keep the seasickness at bay. “You and Wade are masters at that, aren’t you?” She couldn’t help the jibe. It had slipped through her lips before she could stop it.
“It’s not a car, Dawn. These things are designed to prevent exactly that.” Ben’s tone was tinged with irritation and worry. “Without the key or the startup code, we’re stuck.” He reachedfor the VHF radio, his last sliver of hope, and his face fell. “Of course. It’s been disabled,” he muttered, the frustration evident in his voice.
As dawn approached, painting the sky with strokes of pink and orange, the reality of their situation settled around them like a heavy blanket. Stranded in the middle of the ocean on a luxury yacht that was as useless as a floating piece of driftwood without its keys, Dawn and Ben faced the creeping tendrils of despair as they pondered their next move.
“I don’t suppose you have one of those satellite mobile phones?” Dawn looked at him hopefully.
