Play Along(22)

“Hello.” Chelsea fakes a smile.

“Hi,” I reply as I cut into my chicken.

Angela smiles warmly as she puts her hand on my leg. “God, Mac is like an animal with you. I’ve been watching him.”

I swallow uncomfortably. I’m a ho.

“Mac is an animal with all women. You should see him with me,” Chelsea murmurs sarcastically into her wine glass.

Angela and my eyes meet and I continue to eat in silence. I know this shouldn’t piss me of, but it fucking does. Mac comes back and takes his seat and my angry eyes flicker up to him. I imagine the girls on the ship all lining up to fuck him and I feel sick. What in the hell goes on around here when they are all alone at sea?

This is not who you are, Roshelle.

I’ve already shared one man. Why in the hell would I willingly share another?

A European looking man walks over and talks to a blonde man. Mac looks up and glares at him, his jaw clenching in anger, and my eyes follow the man across the dining table.

“Who’s that?” I ask Angela.

“Stucko,” she whispers as she drops her head.

“Who’s he? I haven’t seen him before.” I frown.

“Be grateful. He’s a nasty piece of work.” She whispers.

I glance over at Mac who is openly glaring at him across the room. I can tell there is no love lost between these two.

“So, twenty-one days until Puerto Rico.” Angela smiles as she tries to make conversation.

“Oh, I can’t wait.” Chelsea smiles and then she looks over to Mac. “Mac and I have had some pretty wild nights in Puerto Rico, haven’t we?”

He keeps eating with his head down. He doesn’t answer and he doesn’t acknowledge what she has just said.

I get a vision of them fucking in a nightclub and my blood boils, even though I know I am being utterly ridiculous. I am unable to control it.

“What have you got planned for me at this port Mac?” She smiles sexily over the table.

I chew my food in silence as I stare at my plate.

“Enough, Chels. Cut the fucking shit.” He snarls.

Angela widens her eyes into her wine glass. “Awkward,” she mouths at me.

We continue to eat in silence and eventually Chelsea gets up to go to the bar and Angela starts talking to a man who sits down next to her. Mac casually puts his hand on my upper thigh and I flick it off discretely under the table. He glares at me and raises his brow in a silent dare.

I lean over and whisper into his ear, “I don’t appreciate your scratching post boring the fuck out of me with her sleazy tales about you. I’m going back to the room.”

“The hell you are,” he growls in my ear as he grabs my hand.

“Stay here and fuck her on the pool table,” I whisper angrily as I rip my hand from his grip.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he fires back.

I sit back and fake a smile as my eyes hold his. I hesitate for a moment, shocked that he just said that. Shocked that anyone would even say that. “This is why I’m out of your league, but thank you for the reminder.”

His face drops and he sits back in his seat. I know I’ve got him.

“Stick to your whores.” I stand and throw my napkin onto the table and walk out of the common room and down the hallway. I feel my heart beating hard. I know he is going to lose his shit, but I can’t make out with him—or should I say pretend to make out with him—knowing full well she is waiting to take her turn after I go to bed. What kind of fucked up situation is this? Why do I even care? It’s seriously pissing me off that I do.

I know they all share beds, but I can’t even share a kissing partner. I’m just going to stay in the room for the rest of the trip. I’m not doing this to myself again.

I can’t pretend that this is okay with me. It’s bloody not. I walk down to our door and then I glance up at the metal staircase leading upstairs. I need some fresh air. I head up and out onto the deck. I am greeted by a brilliant light and stare up at the full moon as it lights a blazing line in the water underneath it. The ocean breeze dusts across my face and an instant calm sweeps over me. I inhale deeply and a smile crosses my face. It’s nice up here. The sound of the ocean lapping on the side of the boat is a reminder of just how remote a place on Earth this is. How do these people survive in these conditions for so long?

I walk over to the side of the ship and stare out over the dark, cold sea. The sound of the ships engine is a drone and I can hear the sea lapping at the sides of the boat.

Pirates. Modern day pirates. Governed by their own set of rules with nobody to answer to but each other. For a long time, I stare out over the sea as I contemplate how and why the people on this ship live like this. Don’t they miss land? Don’t they miss having their own home, their own man or woman to love?