– Find Part 1 here – Chapter list here –
“I don’t think I understand,” I said as I held Annabel in my arms, the sound of the plane’s twin engines slowly winding down behind us.
“Did you bring any bags,” asked Annabel as though I was arriving fresh off the latest holiday flight. As I felt her slim body against mine I could smell the scent of suntan lotion and shampoo. She smelled edible.
“I left in a bit of a hurry,” I replied feeling confused. “But really, how are you here? I thought you were dead.”
“Not dead,” she said pressing her lips to mine. “They got me when I was riding the bike.”
She looked at the sunburn on my shoulders and my arms. I was in pretty rough shape after the last few days, and I had some painful bruising around my neck from the collar. A discussion took place behind us, and then the pilot and my travelling companion came to some agreement with the man in the Jeep, some money changed hands, and shortly the aircraft was making its way to the threshold of the runway.
“What the hell did they do to you?” she asked looking at my burned skin.
“It was pretty horrible,” I replied.
Annabel said, “Would you like to walk back or ride with Miguel? We should get some aloe on that,” she said tenderly touching my shoulders.
I looked at the smiling face of Miguel, sitting in his Jeep. Was this some kind of hallucination. Perhaps it was the exhaustion and the stress.
“Let’s walk,” I said, still a little stiff from the cramped little plane.
We walked along a path which led to a beach and walked slowly toward some buildings in the middle distance.
I walked holding Annabel’s hand and said, “The guy who freed me from the house said something about being a kidnapper. So, what’s going on here?”
“Oh, we’re kidnapped,” replied Annabel, a slightly troubled look on her face. But then a smile returned to her face. “But that’s probably the best thing that’s happened in a while.”
“I don’t understand. I thought being kidnapped is a bad thing,” I said.
“Well,” answered Annabel, “while we’re hostages we are worth something. We’re somewhere no one can get to us. And we’re not going anywhere. The cartel is negotiating to get something, maybe a ransom, and we’ll be given up at some point.”
Annabel smiled. The explanation rang a little hollow for me. I looked at the waves gently lapping the sandy shoreline. Was this a jail or paradise? There were a couple of low buildings in the distance, a beach umbrella and not much else to interrupt the scene.
“And if the negotiations fail? Or fall through?”
“That would be bad,” said Annabel.
“And your friend Miguel?” I asked.
“He’s here to provide us with anything we want,” she replied. “He’s got a freezer full of food, a fishing rod for fresh fish, and all the hair care products your heart desires. He’s also got a shortwave radio. He calls in now and then to someone, but I don’t really know who. Just as long as we stay put we’ve got everything we need. He doesn’t want any trouble.”
“Huh! Maybe we should ask for a boat to get off the island,” I said as the little plane roared over our heads, our one connection to the mainland disappearing into the blue sky. I then added, “But it’s good he’s got hair products. I could really use a shower.”
“We couldn’t get far, even if we did have a boat. This is a very remote part of Mexico. You don’t just wander along the road out there. No, this is one of those ‘just wait it out’ situations. And hope the cartel gets itself a good deal.”
“Does Miguel have a boat,” I asked.
“No. And he’d shoot you before you pulled on your yachting shoes if you tried to leave the island. He may look old and tired but he’d kill you in a heartbeat.”
“Great,” I said thinking my fate was to die at the hands of a geriatric jailer. Perhaps this was an improvement on being beaten to death by a psychotic pervert in Texas.
Annabel stopped and pulled me to her.
“Relax,” she said. “You might as well chill and enjoy being a hostage. The beach is lovely and the bed is warm. Things could be a lot worse, and besides, you don’t look so good. You’re no shape to take a hike in a Mexican desert.”
“I don’t feel so good,” I said as I began to feel a little dizzy. A moment later I staggered and fell to my knees and slowly lost consciousness.
+++
I woke in the cool of a beach house, a fan rotating slowly above the bed in which I lay. It took me a moment to find focus. This bed was so comfortable. I just lay feeling the fabric of the sheets. They seemed spotlessly clean and crisp.
Annabel seemed to glide into the room like an angel. Part of my mind wondered how she did that. It was almost as if she didn’t need to move those slim legs of hers. She smiled at me and sat on the bed beside me.
Her smile felt as though it radiated a soft glow. She wore a tangerine colored bikini, it forming to the curve of her breasts perfectly. That fabric stretched so perfectly.
I watched her lips move, but at first couldn’t make out the words.
“I think something’s wrong,” I said. My voice sounded perfectly understandable to me, but Annabel looked at me quizzically and then laughed.
I could feel the warm glow of the tangerine wrapped mounds of Annabel’s breasts as she leaned close to me. When she kissed me I felt the tingle of excitement running through me like a live electric wire.
I stared at Annabel’s lips. She spoke very slowly. Before she could get out the words I felt myself compelled to kiss her again. Her lips were wet and welcoming. I felt her tongue sliding into my mouth and I felt like I’d never felt before from a kiss.
I could feel the moisture of her breath on my skin as she gently breathed in me. Her gaze fell to my chest, and I pulled her to me, pressing her face to my breast. The feeling of spreading warmth as the kissed my nipple spread through each and every nerve in my chest, spreading like warm wet milk spilled on a table cloth. It took me over fibre by fibre in a sensual contagion that I willingly surrendered to.
She gently pulled away and tried to talk to me once more. I could still taste her on my lips.
“Sleep. Sleep,” she said. “Miguel gave you a shot, you must sleep.”
I looked down at the bedside table and found myself fixated on a syringe and needle. I stared at it. There was some wrapping beside it. Blue and white paper.
I felt so happy, Annabel beside me holding my hand. She handed me a glass half full of water. I stared at the sparkling carbonated bubbles as they slowly rose and burst on the surface of the water with a light pop. The more I stared the more they seemed to sparkle.
As I drifted back to sleep I found myself staring at the syringe. I felt so happy, and yet somehow in this euphoria there was something unsettling about the needle, so cold and steely in the periphery of my vision.
Unsettling, indeed.
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