Hustle (Book 1 in The Hunted Hearts) - SYTYCW Winner #action #comedy #romance

Hustle | Chapter 6

Copyright 2013 All Rights Reserved

Hustle By Claire Chilton

6

Captive

Ellie winced as a bright light flashed in front of her closed eyelids. She felt something pressing against her chest, making her cough. She jerked and rolled onto her side, coughing out water onto the wooden deck of a boat. She gasped for air, and the world spun for a few seconds.

I guess I didn't die then.

She groaned and rolled over onto her back, feeling very much like a fish as her weak muscles flopped onto the hot deck. A tall man in a diver's mask bent over her and scooped her up into his arms. He carried her below decks of a small yacht, taking her into a wood-paneled cabin and laying her on the bed inside it.

She tried to sit up, but he gently pushed her back down.

"You need to rest." His voice seemed familiar. She studied his back as he turned away from her and pulled the mask off. His dark hair was short and wet. Rivulets of water dripped off his hair and rolled down his tanned back, sliding over the bulging muscles flexing around his shoulders and down his back to the blue knee-length swimming trunks that were hanging off his slim hips before eventually dripping onto the floor.

He didn't look dangerous, more like a surfer than anything, so she flopped back on the bed, feeling exhausted. Her eyelids felt heavy.

I'll just close my eyes for a minute.

She sank into the warm, comforting mattress beneath her, her hand resting on the small lump of the key zipped into her bikini shorts.

She must have drifted off because she woke up to something cold clamping around her wrist. She squinted and opened one eye, peering at her arm.

The man was sitting on the bed beside her. His head was turned away as he held her arm.

She frowned, unable to see what he was doing. "Wha—what's going on?" Her voice came out croakier than she intended. She sounded drunk.

The man turned to face her with a grim smile on his face. She gasped when she recognized him. It was Jacob Hawkins.

"You're under house arrest until we reach the authorities," he said, moving aside to reveal handcuffs locking her right wrist to the wooden headboard.

Ellie panicked.

Did he steal the key?

She patted her hip, relieved the find that the pocket still contained the metal object. She struggled to pull her wrist out of the cuffs, but it was locked firmly in place. "What are you doing? I need a hospital!" She really didn't, but what the hell. It might work.

"The nearest one is in Costa Rica. We'll be there by morning." When he stood up, she could see that his hair was dry now, and he wore a beige T-shirt and khaki combat shorts. She did a double take at his T-shirt, which was emblazoned with a picture of Chewbacca and the words: I HUG LIKE A WOOKIEE.

After blinking at the furry face for a moment, she shook her head and peered around the room. The lighting was dimmer, electric rather than daylight. "How long was I out for?" The last time she remembered was midday.

"Over seven hours." He nodded at her legs. "Long enough for me to bandage those and search your boat. It's eight-thirty now."

He didn't find the key, so he must have not searched her. She glanced down at her bikini. There wasn't much to search, two triangles and a pair of bikini briefs. She frowned when she noticed her legs. There were patches of gauze taped to them with surgical tape.