Page 78 of Dagger in the Sea

“Crazy. But good crazy. You did an amazing job, Adri. Pure magic. It was everything I wanted it to be and more.”

“I’m glad, Alessio.” I gave him a kiss on the cheek as he opened the door to our cabin.

Alessio headed for the bathroom, and I kicked off my shoes and stared into the mirror where my makeup lay scattered on the dresser.

What I saw tonight.

What Turo did.

I wouldn’t be Luca’s toy again. Anyone’s toy. And I hated seeing Turo forced into doing such horrible things. He’d killed a man tonight. But there was no mourning that tragedy, because otherwise I would be mourning Turo.

Everything was different.

Alessio turned the faucet on in the bathroom, and the sound of him brushing his teeth through the door made me grab onto the edge of the dresser. Nothing was ordinary anymore. I couldn’t just go to sleep and wake up tomorrow, have afrappéand a laugh, stroll through Mykonos and shop and swim as if it were any other day.

All I could hear were those gunshots, feel the pull of Berezin’s hand on mine, imprisoning it, the close of my throat as he grabbed at my bum. His filthy insinuations that were his arrogant way of flirting. His too spicy cologne nauseating me as we watched Turo play his sick game of death.

All I could see was Turo’s haunted face, his cold, hard stare, just now on deck.

Alessio came out of the bathroom and my body jerked up from the dresser. “Come to bed.” He ripped off all his clothes and, dumping them on the floor, threw himself onto the bed, groaning, burying his face in his pillow. His breathing deepened immediately, a low snore rising from him. He was asleep.

I knew what I wanted to do. Needed to do. And it wasn’t sleep.

I took off my jewelry and tucked it into my cosmetics bag along with my makeup, went into the bathroom and quickly washed my face. As quietly as possible I took off my dress and rolled it up, tucking it in my small suitcase along with my hair brush and cosmetics bag. I changed into jeans and a T-shirt, my denim jacket, my Nikes, and then wrote a note to Alessio on anAllegrastationery pad and propped it up in front of the mirror so he’d be sure to see it.

Holding in my breath, I grabbed my Vuitton backpack and suitcase and silently slid out of the room. I needed to find Turo. Now.

High-pitched cries and moans filled the hallway. Luca was working out his evening his way. I lifted up my suitcase so it wouldn’t make any noise on the wood flooring and made it to the outside deck, finally gulping in the fresh sea air. Opening up my Blackberry, I made the call, whispering my request.

“Kanéna próvlema. Se déka leptá eíme’ki,”came the much hoped for reply.

Ten more minutes.

Glass crashed from the upper deck. Tucking my phone in my back pocket, securing my bags in a corner, I ran down the other end of the ship. A figure stood in the shadows behind the bar opening a bottle of liquor, broken glassware littered the counter. He brought the bottle to his lips and drank, drank. A thirst like no other. A thirst to erase, to numb. But the booze wouldn’t fill that hole. That I knew all too well.

He slammed the bottle down on the bar, swiping a hand across his mouth. He was still wired from the Russian extravaganza.

Two fierce, light-colored eyes bore into mine, his ragged breathing the only sound to accompany the sloshing of the water against the boat.

“Turo.”

“My bartending skills aren’t great, so I can’t make you a fancy cocktail. But I can open any bottle you like. He swept the broken glass with an arm and the pieces crashed to the floor. He planted his hands on the bar top. “What’ll it be, Miss Lavrentiou?”

I went to the bar. “I don’t want anything.”

“Your boyfriend have any coke on him in your room?” He slugged back the bottle again. Whisky.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” He made a sour face. “What the hell do you know?” His voice was an acidic mix of brittle and bitter, and he poured and served that cocktail with grim delight.

“I can’t begin to comprehend what you went through, but drinking or doing coke isn’t going to help.”

“It’s helping, baby.” Turo let out a dark laugh. “I brought some coke back from the Russian bathtub, but I finished it. Very nice quality. Of course, I expected nothing less. Luca must have a stash of something on board. You want to help me? Go get it.”

I went behind the bar. “I have something better.”

His eyes blazed and he prowled toward me. “That stash between your legs? Yeah, that I could definitely use.”

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