The Desired Victim

Chapter 30: This Trust of Doubt

"I can help you escape . . . We can escape from this hell together."

Nicolas was waiting on my response, looking at me with desperation in his eyes. How could I even begin to trust him? How do I know that he wouldn't just take me away somewhere himself, or kill me in order to spite Cassandra? But my mind couldn't help but think about the possibility that he might be sincere. I could escape. I could be free. I could go home. I could just dismiss this entire experience as one demonic nightmare, and attempt to go back to the life I once had. Could it really be that simple?

I was still lying on the ground, stunned. I didn't know what to say or do. I had a sick feeling to my stomach, after just being assaulted. Nicolas crept slowly towards me, putting his hand gently on my knee. I flinched, backing away. 

"Please, princesa . . ." Nicolas begged. "I want to escape this life as much as you do . . . Can't you see that?"

Nicolas's eyes were wet with tears, and his face was shiny from sweat. I couldn't help but pity him.

"I never wanted any of this . . ." he continued. "I want to go home, too . . ."

I didn't know how I should feel. On one hand, I wanted to believe Nicolas. I wanted to desperately believe that there was an escape from this evil life. But on the other hand, I just couldn't completely trust him. Ever since he had given me food and the comfortable living space when first arriving on the pirate ship, something inside me told me that he wasn't . . . right.

I still wasn't speaking, and Nicolas was getting desperate. He crawled even closer, and I backed away further. My back hit the table, and I let out a jagged breath.

"I know you don't trust me," Nicolas said, his voice cracking. "But I'm your only chance."

In a way, he was right. But what if we were caught trying to escape? Then we'd both be killed. Even though thinking about being a slave of pleasure for the rest of my life terrified and sickened me, dying scared me even more. Or maybe the fact that I'd be dying alone is what scared me. 

But I promised myself I'd do anything and everything to survive, I owe my family and my kingdom that much. And if that means following Nicolas and taking his word for it, then that's what I would do.

"Nicolas . . ." I choked out. I was about to give him an answer, when the door suddenly burst open. A very annoyed and irritated Emory comes through the door, and I jump from the loud entrance. Without even hesitating, he grabs my arm roughly and pulls me up off of the floor.

Nicolas stumbles to his feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing, estúpido?!"

"Your captain signed an agreement," Emory said nonchalantly. I noticed how much more clean he looked, and how he didn't look quite as sickly. Most of the blood on his face from his forehead injury was gone, and he seemed more like his usual scowling self.

Nicolas's nostrils flared, and he balled his hands up into fists. "An agreement to what?!" he demanded. 

I looked up at Emory, my eyes asking the same question. I couldn't help but take notice of his strong grip around my arm. I also couldn't help but notice his handsome face, and my cheeks flashed heat. 

Emory looked back down at me, and my heartbeat skipped. His facial expression was impossible to read. What could he possibly have agreed to? He quickly glanced at the sleeve on my dress where it was torn, and then looked at Nicolas. His jaw stiffened slightly. 

"I get my crew and slave back," Emory explained matter-of-factly. "Bitch to your captain if you want the details."

Emory turned back towards the door, dragging me with him. However, Nicolas beat us to it, and planted himself firmly in front of the doorway.

Emory sighed. "Move."

"Not until I know where you're taking her," Nicolas said strongly. He glared up at Emory, who was easily four inches taller.

"Why the hell would I tell you? She's not leaving my sight." Emory grabbed my other arm with his other hand, but it felt almost like a protective gesture. More heat reached my cheeks just by the mere fact that he was touching me in general.

"She isn't your own slave," Nicolas growled. "And besides, I don't trust you to keep her from being ruined."

Emory snorted. "Oh, and you think you'd do a better job?" He grabbed the part of my dress that Nicolas had ripped and shook it for Nicolas to see. "I don't think so, idiota. Now move aside, or I might just take up your captain's offer of giving me immense pleasure."

Emory shouldered his way past Nicolas, who was too furious to even move. I was dragged along, trying to keep up with Emory as best as I could, as usual.

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We arrived back in the room where Nicolas had taken me the first time. Nothing seemed to have been touched, but I wasn't sure what was going on. I was hoping Emory would find it in his heart to explain things to me, but I wasn't hoping for any real explanation. I've learned to just accept things the way they were happening, and to stay quiet. It's kept me alive this long.

Emory slammed the door shut, locking it into place. I had excused myself to the corner of the room, trying to stay out of the way. I wasn't sure what kind of mood Emory would be in. 

Without even looking at me, Emory started stripping out of his clothes which were covered in blood and filth. I could feel myself already starting to hyperventilate at the sight of him, and I felt myself start to panic. The last time this happened, he almost kissed me and then shut a door in my face, leaving me alone to face the pirates. I covered my eyes, embarrassed at the sight of his bare chest. But still, I couldn't help but peek through my fingers. Externally, he was a gorgeous human being.

Emory only bothered to notice I was in the room until he was almost completely bare. "You can change out of that ripped dress if you want, I'm sure you can find something else in that closet." He had a slight acidic and bitter tone about it. As if he knew what happened between Nicolas and I.

My hands were trembling. "N-No, that's alright . . ." I muttered. I couldn't even imagine taking off my clothes in front of Emory, not with the way he looks at the moment. Even though he was in the room when I was taking a bath, I wasn't sure how much he had seen. And I didn't want to explore that scenario any time soon.

Emory just shrugged, and went into the washroom and closed the door. I exhaled a sigh of relief, and sank to the floor. I closed my eyes, trying not to think. Was this the plan? I was going to stay imprisoned in this room with Emory until we reached Mexico? How was I going to talk to Nicolas about escaping?

Tears burned in the back of my eyelids. Whatever chance I had of escaping, it was gone. Nicolas was right, he was my only chance. And now I'd probably never be alone with him ever again, not as long as Emory is in the picture. 

I dug my fingernails into my scalp, refusing to let the tears fall. I couldn't have Emory see me cry, he would just get angry at me and demand to know why I was weeping. I had to think of a plan.

I finally realized that I was either going to escape this hell, or die trying.

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Hey everyone!!! I know I said I'd post on Thursday, but my power went out because the weather SUCKS :( I'll definitely try to post every Thursday, so please keep an eye out for it! :D Everyone who's been following and reading my story, THANK YOU SO SO MUCH. You guys are the reason why I keep writing!! :) As always, comments and feedbacks are always much appreciated <3 see ya next week, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!! <3 XOXOXO.