“Good grief.” Baker turned his back to us altogether. Instantly Flynn’s right hand released my jeans, quickly dipping into her own pocket, and then it was back inside the front of my jeans, sliding something cold into my panties. I flinched at the cool touch of metal against my skin, but I hid my smile in her lips. Damn. She is good.
“All right, that’s enough.” Captain Baker turned back to us.
Flynn pulled away from me after one last deep kiss, and I snuck a quick peek at Brock. He looked rather disappointed we’d stopped. “I’m so sorry.” Flynn’s voice was hysterical as her dad separated us. “Daddy, please… for me… please let her live.”
“You make me sick.” He shook his head. “Get her the hell out of my face.”
Brock pulled her out of the room, with Flynn screaming the whole time. The captain was clearly rattled. I knew he wouldn’t do the dirty work himself. There had to be a small part of him that would eternally feel the guilt of killing me.
Apparently I was right. He didn’t say another word. Instead he shook his head again, spun around, and stormed out the door.
Lazzo and I were alone, for now, and I saw Lazzo staring at me. “What was that about?”
I smiled and silently retreated to a dark corner of my cell. Slowly reaching down into my pants, I pulled out a keycard with a key taped to it and a four-digit number written on the back. “A second chance.”
TWENTY – Grate Escape (Hayley)
We were left alone for the rest of the evening. No one even peeked in at us. They probably could see all they needed to through the two cameras in the corners. Shortly after midnight, when the rest of the ship was likely asleep, the door swung open and Brock came sauntering in. “Well, hello.” Such a stupid smug look. I knew he’d be focused on me. I don’t think he even glanced in Lazzo’s direction.
I needed to keep it that way. “Were you ever in a movie?” I asked with mock sincerity.
My question caught him off guard. “Uh.” He stopped walking. “No. Why?”
“Nothing, never mind.” I shook my head.
“No, who did you think I was? I’m curious.”
“I just…” I bit back my smile. “I don’t know. I could’ve sworn you were the dad in the Simpsons movie.”
My response had its desired effect. “You calling me a Homer?”
I actually wasn’t. I was calling him fat and stupid—but the “Homer” reference seemed to bother him more, so I nodded. “If it fits.”
His eyes filled with rage, and he began fumbling with his keys. I stood in the middle of my cell, arms behind my back, pretending to struggle—as if I were chained to the pole behind me. Brock fell for it.
“Oh, poor girl. Did they lock you up?” He pursed his lower lip, took his gun belt off, and unbuttoned his shirt. “Why don’t you let me help you?”
I began to beg, apologize, and tearfully plead for him to leave me alone, but he climbed up the bars and turned the cameras toward the wall. “Sorry, boys,” he said, presumably to whomever was watching from the command tower. He bolted the door from the inside, took his collared shirt off and tossed it over the back of a wooden chair. Then he turned his focus to me. “You humiliated me, bitch.” All mock pleasantness was gone. “And you just keep going. You’re going to pay for that,” he snarled. He unbuckled his belt and walked towards me—a sickening grin plastered across his face.
“Help me!” I screamed. “You can’t do this.”
Brock laughed. “I can do whatever the hell I want.” He slid a hand down the front of his pants and cackled. “Oh… I’ve been waiting for this.”
He unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, his pants now unbuttoned and unzipped. He took one long stride toward me and slapped me hard across the face. “That’s for the pervert comment.” He slapped me again, a little harder. It was all I could do to not block the blows—but he had to believe I physically couldn’t defend myself. I could taste blood now. “That’s for the molesting comment.” He slapped me one more time. “And that was just for fun.” He laughed. “Come on, that was fun.”
“Please stop,” I begged weakly, the anger in me not unlike a volcano ready to blow.
“Aww…I’m sorry. I’m just getting started.” He unbuttoned my jeans and began to pull them down, but before he could get them completely off my hips, I mustered all my strength into one shot and kneed him squarely in the nose. His head snapped back, and he fell against the bars. He sat stunned for a few long seconds, blood pouring down his face, before his rage took over. He launched himself at me, but I ducked, stepping aside as he crashed into the pole behind me. He looked down at my hands in surprise, noticing I wasn’t actually cuffed to the pole. But before he could say anything or reach out to grab me, a rope was wrenched tightly around his neck from behind.
Before Brock came in, I’d tossed the skeleton key Flynn had given me across to Lazzo. He’d unlocked his own cell and waited for Brock to be distracted to make his move. Brock’s unilateral focus on payback had given Lazzo the opportunity he needed to sneak up on the lieutenant. And with no cameras on us anymore, no one would be coming to his rescue for a while.
Lazzo now had a solid chokehold on the lieutenant. Brock struggled against the rope, but it was no use. Lazzo could have killed him. But I didn’t want that. Instead I wrapped a cloth around the fat idiot’s head, gagging him, and Lazzo led him to the darkest corner of my cell. I grabbed a set of cuffs off the wall and had Lazzo strip him of his uniform. Lazzo then cuffed Brock naked to the bars.
I put Brock’s own gun to his head, clicked off the safety, and got right up in his face. “I want you to know I could—and probably should—kill you right now.” I could see the reality of that fact register in his eyes. “Do you doubt that?” He shook his head emphatically and mumbled what I assumed was “no.”
“But do you know why I won’t kill you?” I waited until he shook his head again. “Because my brother wouldn’t want me to. That’s all. My brother. That’s the only reason you’re still alive.” I paused for effect and glanced at Lazzo, but he wouldn’t look at me. “On the other hand.” I swung my eyes back to Brock’s. “When he finds out you were going to rape me…” I let out a cold laugh. “You’ll wish I’d shot you.”
His bewildered look surprised me. He clearly didn’t know what I was talking about. “You still don’t know who my brother is, do you?” The lieutenant shook his head again. “Huh. Well.” I gave him a sad look. “Let’s hope you never find out. Let’s hope you aren’t unlucky enough to make it back to Hawaii.”
I turned to walk away and then stopped short. “Oh, and one more thing.” I walked back to him. “This”—I kicked him hard in the nuts—“is for touching me before.” He doubled over as much as the cuffs allowed him to, eyes rolling up into his head, and groaned loudly through the gag. “And this”—I kicked him again, even harder, in the same place—“is for the next time you think about touching me.” I watched the tears of agony streak down his cheeks and, satisfied I’d made my point, I walked away. The embarrassment of being discovered like that would stay with him for life. “Let’s go, Lazzo.”
“That was you being nice?” Lazzo asked quietly as I scanned the keycard at the door and stepped out into the hall.
“And your point is?”
“Nothing.” He followed me down the hall.
That’s what I thought. I was looking for the “2112” Flynn had scribbled on the back of the keycard she’d given me. Has to be a room number.