Cold as Ice Read online

  “What the fuck are you hoping from all this Michael!” I yelled, “you want me to submissively follow you around the world? Want me to nod and smile and let you fuck me on the beach like old times?” I liked yelling, it masked my fear, made me sound powerful and in control. Michael was pacing around the room like a caged lion. “‘Cause it’s not going to happen like that. I don’t love you Michael; I did, once, but you fucked that up. I will spend the rest of my life fighting to get away from you.” In a heartbeat, Michael was on top of me, his weight pressing back against the dirty mattress. I froze. There was a gun pressed against my chin, forcing my face up so he could sneer down at me.

  “Listen here you little bitch—” There was a knock on the door, and I opened my mouth to call out. This was it; this was my chance to get away. The metal pressed uncomfortably hard into my skin, and I shrank back. Michael’s eyes never left my face as he leaned away. The gun didn’t move an inch, and, for a long terrifying moment, I was sure he was going to shoot me.

  “Hello? Sorry to disturb but I’ve received noise complaints.” A brusque voice called through the door; it was obviously a member of staff. I wanted so badly to call out, but looking into Michael’s eyes was like looking into a bottomless pit. I knew to look into those eyes that he would shoot me if I made a noise. I prayed she’d ask to come in. Please, I thought, please, I’m right here.

  “Ah, I’m sorry! Got too carried away with these action movies you have!” His French was rusty, but it must have held some charm because the woman on the other side of the door chuckled.

  “Okay sir, just make sure to keep it down please.”

  Michael grinned down at me.

  “I will. I’m heading out in a minute anyway. Sorry again.” There was no answer, and Michael mimed wiping a drop of sweat from his brow. “I think,” he said, pulling the gun away from my face, “we got a little carried away there.” He reached down, and I started thrashing. He was trying to reattach the cuff still on the bedpost. The cuff snapped in place, and he chuckled, kissing my temple. “So I’m going to head out now, give us both some time to cool off.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of fabric, a scarf, maybe. I shook my head, tears beginning to track down my cheeks. I didn’t want to be left in the dark again, unable to move or speak.

  Michael shushed me gently, tying the fabric tightly around my mouth.

  “I’ll be back soon, baby.”

  Chapter Four: Chapter 4 Title

  It’s nearly a whole day before my dad arrives, which is, honestly, a lot longer than expected. It was like the sky got just that bit darker as he stepped onto the deck. Chrissie had spoken to him on the phone—I was too focused on talking to the police to answer when he called. That and I’m a coward.

  “He wasn’t pleased,” she’d said. I snorted.

  “What a shocker; Dad’s not pleased with me,” I snarked. “I don’t care if he’s not pleased with me—all he cares about is his reputation and ego. I am sick of him dictating my every move, and I’ll fucking tell him that when I see him.”

  Now, as he stalked toward me across the deck of The Silver Cloud, I felt ready for a fight. I’d spent far too long doing whatever my dad wanted me to; Josie was more important.

  “Andrew!” There was no hello, not that I’d been expecting one. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard any pleasantries from him. He didn’t believe in small talk. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Chrissie gripped my arm, squeezing slightly. I could feel her eyes on me, could see MaryAnn’s worried face over my father’s shoulder. This wasn’t the place for this argument.

  “Let’s go inside,” I said, voice calm. “Unless you’d like to have this talk in front of the entire docks?” He looked around, seeming to notice for the first time that it wasn’t just him and me on deck. Most of the staff were already heading back to their posts, heads down, pretending not to notice the rising tension between us. Still, MaryAnn and Chrissie held firm, meeting his glares with their own.

  “Fine.” He didn’t waste time with a response, he just shouldered his way past me and up the stairs on the far side of the ship. I turned to follow him, sending a tight-lipped smile over my shoulder at Chrissie.

  “Come and get me if anything happens?” I asked quietly. She nodded.

  “Of course.”

  I took a deep breath and followed my father up the stairs.

  When I was younger, we spent every vacation we could on The Silver Cloud. We spent weeks at a time sailing around to every beach on the East Coast. Vacations still meant something back then. My dad would be full of smiles, teasing looks, and piggyback rides across the sand. I barely saw him anymore, let alone saw him smiling. It was pathetic, wishing for a time when my dad was around more, but I missed him. And it felt like he didn’t even remember what it was like to be a family.

  He was waiting for me in my cabin, a glass of whiskey held in his hand. So, he remembered where we kept the liquor, at least. I closed the door after me and reached for the bottle to pour myself a glass. Might as well take all the enjoyment from this encounter that I could. Silence hung heavy in the air, and it felt like there was a storm coming.

  “I knew this would happen.” The tone of self-righteousness in his voice made me grip the glass in my hand so hard my knuckles turned white. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you out alone. I thought Christine would be able to keep you in line, but here you are, galivanting around after some girl—some tour guide from New York!”

  “She is not just some girl!” I retorted, taking a sip. The whiskey slid down my throat with a pleasant burn.

  “No—I suppose she’s the love of your life?” The questioning tone taunted me as I twirled the brown liquid around in my glass as I turned from the liquor cabinet to meet my father’s gaze. I tracked my gaze over his expression, looking for a twitch—a sign that he gave a shit.

  “Even if I didn’t love her I’d be doing this; she is a human being! A human being under our employ that’s gone missing.” My father’s eyes remained blank. He sipped his whiskey like we were in a business meeting. The glass cracked between my fingers. “God, you don’t even care do you? If it’s not ‘good for the company’, whatever the fuck that means, then you’re fine letting it slide.” The brown liquor trickled down my hand, mixing with blood. I didn’t care. I stared at my father.

  “Exactly! She’s under our employ—she’s a goddamn employee, Andrew! I gave you MaryAnn, a perfectly respectable and well connected woman, good looking enough, and rich too, and you have the nerve to hook up with the tour guide! She’s just staff; let the local authorities deal with it.”

  Disgust churned in my gut. I thought about that list back in London—all those people affected by this man cutting corners. All those lives, Josie’s father. Gone because of Trent Wright.

  “Just staff? Is that what you thought about ProviderLives? Oh, don’t worry; as long as the press doesn’t get a hold of it, it doesn’t matter if we put the staff in danger!”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Andrew. You’re not fit to run this company. I am the adult here—I will not be dictated to by a snot-nosed little child that knows nothing of life outside of what I have given to him.” He walked past me, still so stoic and calm. I remember Josie once telling me how detached I’d seemed when she first met me. God, is this what I used to be like? I didn’t turn, refusing to acknowledge him any further. I was sick of the sight of him.

  The door closed behind him, and I felt myself wilt; I was exhausted.

  When it reopened, I tensed, waiting for another barb. But none came.

  “Andrew,” it was Chrissie, she sounded out of breath, “Charlie’s here.”

  Chapter Five: Chapter 5 Title

  When I got to the main deck, Charlie was struggling to lift her massive suitcase over the edge of the gangway with a muttered curse. I couldn’t say I was shocked to see her, not really. After everything Josie had told me about her best friend—her fierce attitude and dedica
tion to everything she did—I knew she wouldn’t have been happy with just a phone call. Now, seeing the determined set to her shoulders as she tucked the last few strands of wayward hair behind her ears and looked around, I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her. After hearing my father’s speech about how unimportant she was and the police not batting an eyelid, it was a relief to have someone else on her side. Chrissie and I watched her struggle for a moment longer, a shared look of amusement on our faces.

  “You know, a phone call would have worked just as well,” I said wryly, taking the suitcase from her hands. It was heavy—she must be planning on staying for a while. ”But I’m glad you’re here.” She must have seen the earnest look on my face because her scowl softened slightly.

  “My best friend is missing in freaking Switzerland! There is no way I was staying in New York,” she said with a snort. She moved ahead of us, toward the stairs, and I shared a look with Chrissie before hurrying to follow her up. “Christine said you’d spoken to the police already. What information do we have?”

  “The police won’t do anything,” I said over my shoulder, voice dark. “Unless we can give them solid information that Josephine is in trouble, they can’t start an investigation.” The scowl was back.

  “What the fuck? They’re supposed to help!”

  “Believe me, we’ve tried explaining it to them,” I groused, “They didn’t budge.” Charlie reached out to take her case back from my hand, but I gripped it tighter, moving it away from her reach.

  “I got it, I uh-I want to feel useful.” It was a stupid feeling, but, in all honesty, I didn’t know what I was feeling right now. I’d never felt so helpless. Josie was out there somewhere with a psychopath who could be doing god knows what to her, and here I was, not able to do a goddamn thing but sit and wait for the police to decide she was worth their time.

  Charlie looked at me for a long moment, and I cringed away from her gaze, embarrassed. I was being ridiculous—I know I was—but I needed this. I needed to feel useful. Eventually, her gaze dropped, and she followed me up the rest of the stairs without a word.

  We found ourselves in Josie’s cabin, Chrissie leading us there without a second thought. It was exactly how I’d left it. I hadn’t even had the heart to make the bed.

  “It smells like her in here,” Charlie said quietly. She sat on the bed, tracing a hand over the covers. My heart broke for her, and I pulled her into a hug before I knew what I was doing. I felt her freeze in my arms before returning the hug, and something inside me softened.

  “I can’t think of anything that could help,” Charlie confessed a while later. “Josie liked to deal with things on her own, as much as I always told her to open up. She’s as stubborn as I am, and that’s saying something.” She rolled her glass of vodka between her fingers as she spoke, lip caught between her teeth. “What happened on that last day?”

  I thought back once again to Italy, of the wonderful day we’d spent together. I’d played that day over and over in my head since she’d disappeared. We’d gone to the gallery, gotten ice cream, and then hung around the market.

  “There was something…” She’d told me everything was fine, but if this were a person she was scared of, maybe she would have denied he was there at all. “In the marketplace in Italy. There was a moment, just a moment. She saw something? I didn’t see what it was but she looked… scared.” I turned to Charlie. “Was there anyone she was frightened of? It would have been a man.” My glass lay to one side. I hadn’t touched it since MaryAnn had poured it out for me, taken from her seemingly endless stash. It felt like we were finally getting somewhere.

  “There was an ex,” she started. “She never told me much about him, but she was always checking her phone and looking out of the window like she was looking for someone—she definitely looked scared of him.”

  I paused, replaying the brief conversation I had with the mysterious man on the phone. “I’m afraid Jo can’t come to the phone right now, Mr. Wright, but rest assured. She’s in good hands.” He had sounded… possessive. I couldn’t move. If it was him, then what did he want? Where would he take her? What would he do to her? Panic rose with the bile in my throat.

  I saw Chrissie move out of the corner of my eye. She and MaryAnn had been quiet since they’d arrived, listening to Charlie and I talk, sipping steadily from their wine glasses as the evening went on. Now Chrissie leaned forward, looking back and forth between the two of us with an unreadable expression on her face.

  “So what are we going to do? The police aren’t going to help us; we don’t have any proof.”

  “Well, fuck the police then!” Charlie’s voice was harsh, that determined fire back with a passion. “There has to be something we can do.”

  MaryAnn perked up suddenly, a grin spreading across her face.

  “I know what to do,” she said, already reaching into her purse. “Just give me two minutes.”

  Chapter Six: Chapter 6 Title

  The sun was dappled through the stained glass over the kitchen door. I was sat on the countertop, wearing one of Andrew’s half-buttoned shirts. The radio was playing something soft and easy. I opened my mouth and laughed as a great cloud of sugar erupted into the air. I could taste the sweetness on my tongue, and soon enough, tears were streaming down my face. Andrew watched on with one raised eyebrow, absolutely covered in the soft white powder, but there was a faint smile twisting at his lips.

  “I’m glad you think it’s funny,” he said with a pout. ”I’ll never get this out of my hair.” If anything, I laughed harder, head falling into my hands. Andrew wiped a hand through his hair, sending an avalanche of sugar onto the floor, and he stepped between my spread legs with a chuckle of his own. “Maybe pancakes were too difficult.”

  “Andrew, I started making pancakes when I was four years old.”

  “Then why don’t you make them?”

  “If we’re going to live together, I need to know you can make me breakfast in bed every day,” I teased, reaching up to ruffle his hair. He caught my wrist gently and bought it to his cheek.

  “Every day,” he said quietly. “It’s a promise.” My stomach fluttered pleasantly, and I sighed, contented. “Though you will have to get up very early if you want breakfast at the same time as me,” he finished nonchalantly. I leaned forward to kiss him, with warm lips sweet from sugar, and I could feel the smiles on our faces as we enjoyed the moment.

  The door slammed shut, and my eyes snapped open—instantly awake and alert. The gag was pulling painfully at the corners of my mouth and my hands ached where the cold bite of metal kept them attached to the headboard. I had no idea how long it had been since he’d brought me here. It could have been days. Or weeks.

  Michael hadn’t told me what he did when he left me alone. Most of the time he came back with food, taking a creepy amount of pleasure in feeding me every bite of whatever takeout he’d brought back.

  There was no food this time, and he walked past me with a smug look on his face—like we were playing a game, and he’d just figured out he was winning. He dropped down into his usual seat on the chair beside the bed, setting the stack down on the covers by my right side and leaning back. The gun was fit snugly into his waistband, winking at me in the low light. I could still feel the hard edge of that gun pressing into my skin, and it made me shiver.

  It’s the same rules for a hostage situation as it is in an abusive relationship, I told myself. One—always follow instructions.

  “I’m going to take the gag out, okay gorgeous? No screaming. No talking unless I say so.” I nodded slowly. Good girl. “Good girl.” The fabric was loosened, and I whimpered at the pain. I froze. I wasn’t supposed to make a noise. Fear bubbled through, me but Michael merely stroked a hand softly through my hair, and I felt myself start to relax. Lying in the dark on my own for so long made me almost desperate for physical contact.

  “I know it hurts, baby, I know—but it’s almost over. A couple more days and we’re out of here.�
�� He was still stroking my hair, voice getting more and more distant as he talked. “It’s not South Africa, I’m afraid. I did try, honey, but fake passports are hard enough to get in the first place.”

  Rule two—stay calm. Think of Charlie. The time we went to the cinema in the snow. We walked all the way, and we were the only people there. She laughed so loud I was sure people watching the movie down the hall could hear us. We gorged ourselves on popcorn, and I snuck in a bottle of vodka.

  Michael was still talking, hands never-ending in their methodical movements through my hair. The contact felt like too much now, making my scalp tingle unpleasantly. Fake passports. He was going to take me somewhere far away, change my name. I’d spend the rest of my life scared out of my mind with a trigger-happy psychopath. “I picked everything up for us, ‘Miss Evans’. Stupid surname, I know, but soon you’ll be Mrs. Sullivan huh? Traveling the world with your handsome husband.” He winked—like he was charming. Like we were discussing where to go on holiday. Mrs. Sullivan...would he really force me to marry him too? My breathing was picking up, air struggling up my throat, and my eyes started to water.

  Remember rule two! Think of Dad. I let out a sob, immediately trying to claw it back down my throat. Michael didn’t hear me, still babbling, almost nonsensically. Okay. Bad idea. Think of…think of Andrew. That day I managed to convince him to stay in bed with me. We played music and had a bath together. We drank the whole minibar and had sex on one of the balconies. It had probably been the best sex of my life.

  “Oh fuck, all that excitement and I forgot food!” Michael’s hand stopped dead in my hair, withdrawing as he stood up. “You wait right here, sugar. I’ll be right back.” He moved to the window and threw open the curtains before retreating to the door.