Sea Of Treason, Pirate's Bluff #1

Betrayal

Whitely

I stare at a hand drawn map of Manhatten on the wall of Mr. Petre's study. According to it, I am nearly a mile from the harbor. 5,000 feet or so from the closest drop of salt water.

Waves dance in my mind. Sails billow. Grey-blue eyes watch me.

"What are you doing in here?"

I jump, and turn to see a man in a tailored suit and bow tie, grey hair and spectacles. It takes my mind a moment to register his face as the man I've most dreaded for what feels like my whole life.

I swallow and resist the urge to look down at my feet. My stomach twists and turns. "Hello Mr. Robinson," I say politely, but already I'm considering my exit routes.

This man has never hurt me, not physically. His words have always had an edge to them, though. A sense of control. His eyes held a hint of cruelty that terrified me.

Sometimes I wondered if it were my imagination, if it were just the rumors that had me jumping to conclusions but not now.

Now I trust my intuition.

My single tingles with anticipation of flight. I do not want to be alone with this man.

"Well?" His voice is low and commanding, yet holds a hint of wicked enjoyment.

I raise my eyebrows, trying to show anything by the fear pulsing through my veins. 

"You didn't answer my question."

"Didn't I?" I say sweetly, keeping eye contact. I won't be an easy victim. 

His lips turn up into a sadistic smile. "Avoiding Jeb, are we? I heard about your little tiff. Too bad, when young promising couples fall apart before they even begin." He steps forward casually, as if the motion meant nothing but my pounding heart does not like the dissipating distance between us.

His fingers glide along a cedar shelf, taking slow steps towards me, his eyes on the photos and books that crowd the borders of the room. 

My eyes flit to the open door, where a gentle waltz can be heard faintly down the hall. He's moving closer to me, and my first thought is to keep moving away. Every step he takes towards me, I could step away... towards the door. But I don't move. Because that would tip him off to my exit strategy.

I don't know what he has planned for this moment, but I intend to assume the worst and listen to my pounding heart that screams for me to run.

So I will allow him to believe he is in control. I want him to continue moving towards me. The closer he gets, the clearer my exit route. So long as I move quickly when the time comes.

So I settle my feet and clench my fist.

"You always were a quiet one."

Around you, yes.

"Well, anyway, I suppose your disagreement with Jeb is in my favor." Now he looks up to meet my eye. There is one small chair between us, and only a few feet.

My heart throbs, pounding in my ears. I force my eyes not to move towards the door.

"How is that?" I ask, and the sweetness of my tone disappears. Which I suppose is okay, because he may suspect something isn't right if I'm not at a least a little unsure. He wants me to be scared.

"Those pirates were a bit of a wrench in the plan but, well..." his voice drifts off, like his mind is lost in thought. Something far away. Then he turns to me, eyes locking on mine fiercely. "You know you have other options, don't you, Whitely?" He say in a quiet voice then takes one more step. He's nearly close enough to touch me, my path is wide open, around the other side of the cedar desk.