Enslaved by the Ocean
Page 59

He tenses and narrows his eyes. “No, you know I wouldn’t.”
“Then you can’t use being a pirate as an excuse for being a monster.”
He stares at me a moment, then nods. “No, you’re right, I can’t.”
I look out at the blue ocean, and close my eyes, breathing it in. My stomach is doing somersaults and my entire body is tense. I’m nervous, scared as hell and desperate for answers. Hendrix wraps an arm around me, and pulls me closer to him.
“It’s going to be okay. No matter what, I’ve always got your back.”
I hope he’s right.
The island is equally as beautiful as the one we were on before. It’s a little smaller, and the sand is more yellow than white, but the beach is just as stunning, the trees thick, the air fresh and pure. Both ships come to a complete stop a few hundred meters out. This island has little sand and more coral, so we have to pile onto the lifeboats to get over to it. As soon as we all stop, I see my father jumping off his boat and striding toward me. I grip Hendrix’s hand desperately.
“Got your back, baby,” he murmurs. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“I’m frightened,” I whisper.
“Indi,” my father says when he stops.
Up close, I can see he has two scars on his face: one going up on an angle from his top lip, and the other up near his temple. His eyes search my face, and I can see so much emotion in them. He cares, even in all my fear I can see that. I look at Hendrix once more before nodding. My father turns, and together we walk off down the beach. When we’re out of sight, he finds a spot on the sand and sits down. I do the same.
“I know how hard this is for you, Indigo…”
“No,” I whisper, looking at my hands. “You don’t.”
“I do, because I, too, have had to live without the only thing I loved.”
“You don’t love me. You wouldn’t have left if you loved me.”
“I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” I cry, turning to him.
“No, princess, there isn’t.”
“Why did you go?” I ask, feeling my arms begin to shake.
“I did something, one night when I was out. I…killed someone.”
I lift my head, feeling my eyes well with tears. “What?”
“It was an accident, I was drinking and decided to walk home. He came out of nowhere and tried to attack me for money, and in my self-defense I went too far. I hit him so hard he went backwards and landed on the footpath, hitting his head and killing him instantly. I knew what I had done, and I panicked. I couldn’t spend the rest of my life in jail, so I did the only thing I could: I ran.”
He stops for a moment, rubbing his hands together as if reliving the memory hurts.
“I didn’t become a pirate right away. I spent four years running, but one day I met a man in a bar, we got talking, and he told me stories of pirates and the laws on the ocean. Tired of running, I used what little money I had left to buy a ship. I’ve been out here since.”
I’m crying now, big heavy sobs. My body trembles.
“Indi…” he whispers, reaching for me.
“Don’t touch me!” I cry, slapping his hand away.
“I’m sorry. I know it means nothing to you now, but I am sorry.”
“You left, for whatever reason, and you never came back. Not a call, not a card, nothing. Then Mom died and I got tossed through foster homes. I could have had you…”
“In jail,” he says, his eyes hardening. “That’s what would have happened. Your life wouldn’t have been any easier.”
I turn my face away, not wanting to face that what he’s saying is actually true.
“You were all I had,” I whisper.
“I know,” he says, his voice cracking. “Princess, I know.”
“I need to…I need to know about the girls.”
“The girls?” he asks, confused.
“The girls you sell.”
He flinches when I meet his gaze. “I don’t…shit…okay, princess, I don’t sell them.”
“Then you buy them and use them for yourself?” I rasp, trembling.
“No…I save them.”
I blink, confused. “What?”
“Three years ago I was at a bar when we docked for a few nights. This girl came in. She was blond, blue-eyed, stunning. I kept an eye on her, I’m not even sure why, but she was getting around in this tiny dress and men were leering at her. She left at about midnight, and I noticed she walked out alone, very drunk. I followed her, just wanting to make sure she was safe. Anyway, this van pulled up beside her and before I knew what was happening, they were pulling her inside. I stood there and watched these men take her. Her face was all over the news for weeks, and after twelve months I saw that she had been found in a different country. Those men had sold her as a sex slave. I was sick at the thought that women were being targeted, so I got myself involved in the business. Most of the clients think I keep the women and sell them, but I send them home.”
“Does Hendrix know this?” I rasp.
“No, no one does. The people that run these kinds of businesses aren’t the kind of people you want to get on the wrong side of. They need to believe I am on their team, so to speak. Hendrix contacted me when he found you, and offered you as payment. I accepted, assuming if I didn’t take you, he’d sell you to someone else.”