Frowning, I look around the room for anything that he might use to attempt an escape. I tasked Hex with sweeping the place, and unexpectedly, it seems like he’s done a decent job of that, save for the carving knife sitting by the bowl of fruit on the table.
“Tien, why is the knife still there?” I ask, raking my hand through my hair. My bun comes off and so I have to retie it as too much hair gets in front of my eyes.
Hex closes the fridge he has been inspecting for the past two minutes and trains his gaze where I’m pointing. “Oh. Well, in case he gets hungry? How else is he supposed to butter his sandwich or cut himself some ham and cheese?”
I cross my hands and exhale slowly. “First, he doesn’t need a carving knife. He can use a butter one. There is plastic cutlery in the bottom drawer. And second, any sharp object can be used as a weapon against us.” And since his hands aren’t tied, as a means to break the chain.
Hex pouts and curls his mouth to one side. It’s cute. “Maybe don’t knock people out like this next time and try the diplomatic route first?” he mumbles and retrieves the potentially dangerous object, which he then locks in the corner cupboard with the rest of the knives.
I concede. I acted way out of line, but seeing Mong so close to Hex just did something to me. Instinct took over, and I got in the way before the two of them went any further. I simply couldn’t allow that.
I also almost kissed Hex.
Every pore in my body screams at me for holding back. Hex is right—I did it because a part of me wants him for myself. A big, dark and possessive part that I’ve never had to deal with before.
Witnessing Hex flirt with another man has messed with my head. I don’t know what to do or think. This is all new, and not to mention still very wrong. I made a promise, but it seems like with every passing hour on this cruise, that promise is going out the window bit by bit.
And that’s not the worst part either. It’s the fact that it feels right, where this is going. My head pulsates like it’s suddenly full of bubbles, my thoughts are a jumble. Control has almost fully slipped out of my hands, and I have no idea how to regain it… or if I even want to. Not when the prize is as enticing as claiming Hex for myself.
Shaking my head as I close my eyes, I try to shut down that line of thought. This was never supposed to happen, for me to question everything and flirt with that which should be unobtainable. Hex is out of my league, out of my age-range too. I can’t have him and I shouldn’t want him. We could never work together. Yet the more time that passes, the more I don’t care about that anymore. The truth is that I’m tired of resisting and coming up with reasons as to why I should stay away from Hex. I want to give this a try, to dive into the dark unknown and see what happens and if I will live through it or die.
There is just one complication—we are in the middle of an emergency, and all of this angst and internal drama will have to wait until later. I am a professional and that’s what professionals do.
“So, I had an idea…” Hex starts, trailing off in that way that never bodes well.
“What is it?” I prompt him when he says nothing further.
“Well… We have the names of Mong’s colleagues, so all we need to do is pick one and make it so that they have to call in sick.”
Sigh. Why do I not like where this is going?“Okay…”
Hex walks over to the window, gazes out for a few moments, then turns around and shrugs at me while smiling sweetly. “So, I was thinking… Why not knock someone out the same way you KO-ed Mong?”
“That is a great plan, Tien. But who’s going to watch them? And no, I do not have any more chains.”
“Okay, but what if we don’t need to. There is a medical center, right? They are bound to have sedatives we could use.”
Great. In the three hours we have until Hex needs to meet the Lynxes, he wants us to steal from the cruise’s medical supplies, locate a staff member who’s working tonight, take them out of commission, and replace them?
Sure, what an amazing plan, if only we ignore all the ways things can go completely wrong.
The St. August’s medical center feels more like a VIP hospital. It’s smaller in size, obviously, and aside from the typical stuff you’d find at one, there is also plastic surgery and cosmetic improvements zones.
The sedatives which we are after are in the keycard-controlled storage room behind the reception. Hex is currently chatting up the woman at the desk, flashing cute smiles at her that irritate me even if I know it’s all for show. But it’s been hard to keep myself in check since earlier, and it’s only getting worse. It feels like the last straw of my sanity is about to snap any moment now.
I chuckle in self-pity.Who would’ve thought that Hex would drive me into a corner like this?
“You could maybe give me a massage? My leg really hurts, and all the doctors are currently busy.”
They aren’t, but they are also not around because we may or may not have called in an emergency. It gives us about twenty minutes to execute this first and very questionable portion of our plan.
“Oh, you poor thing.” The woman hesitates, glancing at her monitor. “Okay. Sit there and I’ll be with you in a second.”
Hex complies, but I remain by the desk and watch her unlock the storage area and disappear inside. When she comes back out, she’s carrying what I assume is muscle relaxant gel.
“I’ll take care of your boyfriend, don’t you worry,” she tells me as she walks by me, patting me on the shoulder in a way a mother would.
Before my brain has even comprehended her words, she’s moved onto treating Hex’s nonexistent injury.
