Stirring, I open my eyes and take in the deck, the railing, the dark blue ocean.
O’Brien’s hand begins to rub up and down my back, and he pulls me closer, his other arm an unforgiving steel band around me.
My legs are dead, nothing more than pins and needles.
More memories flood back. The cabin. O’Brien fucking me.
O’Brien thrusting inside me. So hard. So deep.
God.
My body starts to tremble, the need for more of him pouring into my veins.
Then I recall him breaking down before he turned off his emotions. How domineering he was. All alpha, sharp edges, and dirty demands. It was so damn hot. Intoxicating. Addictive.
Heat floods me like a tidal wave, and my body stirs against his, looking for any kind of friction.
Pulling back, my hands move to his shoulders. It takes a moment for me to gather the courage before I lift my eyes to his.
I’m met with harsh, dark brown pools, still devoid of emotion.
There’s only the sound of the ocean around us, the yacht strangely quiet. The more my senses focus, the more I become aware of my surroundings.
Depravity and anguish hang like a thick sludge over every surface.
The blow hits so hard my body sways.
The girls.
The screams.
My heart cracks wide open, and shame spills like a poisonous river from the organ.
O’Brien’s hands shoot up to frame my face, and shaking his head, he commands, “Stop thinking.”
A sob shudders over my lips, my face crumbling under the weight of my emotions.
“Stop, JJ!” he orders, his tone biting and unyielding. “Just focus on me.”
My body obeys, the tears retreating as a calmness washes through me. I keep my eyes locked with O’Brien’s, his unwavering strength spilling into me.
This man has so much power over me, and I realize no matter what he becomes, no matter how dark, I love him. I’ll always love him.
And I’d follow him into the depths of hell.
“Good girl,” he breathes. Pulling me back to his chest, his fingers weave into my hair, and I’m held in place against his warm skin.
O’Brien turns his face to mine, his breath skims over my jaw and cheek, then he murmurs, “They don’t know who you are. They think you’re just a woman I’m interested in. Keep it that way. You’re Jenna Johnson, and I’m Danny Laze until we walk off this yacht.”
I nod my understanding, relieved they don’t know I’m an agent.
Then again, I’d be dead if they knew.
He presses a tender kiss beneath my ear, then continues, “Today’s going to be fucking brutal. Just focus on me and do exactly as I say.”
“Okay,” I whisper, instinctively pressing closer to him. Needing to connect with him on an emotional level, I ask, “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine,” he mutters, irritation lacing his words.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath of him. “I’m sorry –”
“Quiet!” My eyes snap open, and when I try to pull back, his hold on me tightens so much, it’s painful. “We’re not going to talk about this. We’re going to keep our fucking cover and walk off this yacht alive. Get it?”
“Yes, sir.”
It takes a couple of minutes before O’Brien’s grip on me eases. He starts to move, and when he stands up, I almost slump to the floor because my legs are useless from not moving them the entire night.
He grabs hold of my hips to keep me from falling. “You okay?”
“My legs are numb. Pins and needles,” I explain while wiggling some life into my toes. When the sensation finally passes, I say, “I’m good.”
Taking hold of my hand, he links our fingers and heads back to the stairs. I try to brace myself for what horrors I might see, but as the top deck comes into view, bile churns in my stomach, and my soul shrivels into a dark hole at the sight.
A girl was left cuffed to the railing, her eyes wide and lifeless, her skin a pale blue. It looks like foam has dried around her parted lips.
My God.
Devastation knocks me back, a whimpering cry escaping me. I’m yanked from my feet, and within seconds I lose sight of her as O’Brien throws me over his shoulder before hurrying down the corridor and into the cabin. When the door shuts behind us, I’m yanked down the front of his body. His hands frame my face in a brutal grip, and I’m forced to look at him. “You can’t lose it. Focus on me.”
I try to shake my head, and this time his strength isn’t enough to stop me from crying. A distressed wail rips from me.
That poor girl. Oh my God. The horrors she suffered. The depraved way she died.
I’m smothered against O’Brien’s chest as my emotions spiral out of control. He doesn’t try to silence me again but instead becomes the comfort I need. His hand caresses my hair, his mouth peppering my temple and cheek with kisses. “I’ve got you. That’s not going to happen to you.”
It hasn’t even crossed my mind that at any point, one of the other men can decide they want a go at me.
Pulling back from O’Brien, my eyes are wide with fear as I look up at him. “You’re just one man. What if they decide it’s time to share?”
His features darken until he looks like an avenging angel. My heart stutters, my mind going blank at the sight.
“I will fucking kill whoever tries to touch you,” he bites out, unwavering determination lining his voice. “You’re mine.” Shaking his head hard, his hands grip the sides of my head, and he leans down until our foreheads touch and his breaths warm my lips. This time his voice brims with emotions. Need. Affection. Possessiveness. “You’re mine.”
I suck in a trembling breath, nodding. “Yours.”
Chapter 19
O'Brien
Once JJ regains control over her emotions, I pull a little back and lock eyes with her. “You need to turn off your feelings.”
Her eyebrows pinch together, the horror of what she saw still clouding the brilliant blue of her eyes. “How?”
“You’re Jenna Johnson. Focus on that. Focus on what we have to do to survive. Focus on me.”
She stares at me as if I’m her lifeline. I’m all that stands between her and the other men. Slowly the horror fades, and in its place, absolute devotion shines up at me.
A soft knock at the door rips my attention away from JJ, and when I open, there’s a large black box on the floor. Checking the hallway, I see a woman setting another black box down in front of the cabin next to mine.
Crouching, I pick up the box, and kicking the door shut, I walk to the bed and set it down. Opening the lid, I remove a black cocktail dress and suit, laying the items out on the bed.
“At least it will cover more than the bikini,” JJ mutters next to me.
I glance back at the door, and noticing there’s no lock on it, I turn my gaze to her. I need a shower, but there’s no way I’m letting her out of my sight for a single fucking second.
Taking hold of her wrist, I pull her into the bathroom, and closing the lid of the toilet, I say, “Sit down.”
JJ takes a seat, her eyes following me as I reach into the shower, turning on the faucets. While the water warms, I take the other unopened toothbrush, stripping it out of its packaging, and quickly brush my teeth.