Asylum

Chapter 25: The Sea Dragon

Mateo was back from his reconnaissance of the dock and pulling our bags from the trunk of the car. He looked, if anything, colder and angrier than ever. I had heard him this morning making an eleventh-hour plea to Ivan to leave me at the guest house, but his boss would have none of it. It was his decision to make, Ivan had said, and he'd made it. No more discussion.

I glanced over at Marshall, who, from his stance next to the driver's door, was clearly going to be staying with the car. His cheek twitched almost imperceptibly when I looked his way, which might have been a reassuring wink, or simply a facial tic – the sunglasses made it impossible to tell.

I chose to think of it as reassuring and took a deep breath, struggling to school my features into an appropriate game face for a submissive – something less severe than Cop Face, less haughty than Socialite Face, less obviously inviting than Hooker Face, less friendly than Bartender Face, softer and more demure than Concert Hall Performance Face, and less happily radiant than the face I usually found myself wearing when I was around Ivan. Another second of thought and I had my new Submissive Face – determined to serve, sincere in my adoration, and thinking of myself only in the sense of how my performance of my role affected my man's success and pleasure.

"Ready?" that sublime man asked me. Mateo had a bag in each massive hand, disdaining the convenience of shoulder straps in favor of the faster response time of simply dropping them to the ground. Ivan absent-mindedly slipped his sunglasses on, and I noticed that the mid-morning Miami breeze couldn't resist playing with his silky hair. His hand was outstretched towards me, and I took a breath, placed my fingers in his, and allowed myself to delight in his touch, in his strength, in the knowledge that as long as I proved myself worthy, he would protect me and care for me. Click – transformation complete.

He pulled me close to his side, his brows furrowed behind his dark lenses. I waited patiently, eyes wide, then looked up at him from under my lashes as though he were a god on a vacation to Earth, my full lips parted softly in anticipation of his next command.

Ivan's nostrils flare warily. "Christ, Lex," he swore softly. "Don't look at Emilio like that or I might not be able to get you off the boat."

Nailed it. I put on my sunglasses and cast my eyes further down to watch the salt-blasted boards disappear beneath my white Manolo Blahnik pumps as we started down the pier, Mateo a comfortable distance behind us. "And don't look at me like that once we're done with this little performance," Ivan begged quietly. "It creeps me out."

I quickly smothered the beatific smile that threatened to split my face and squeezed his hand in a brief but heartfelt acknowledgement. He tightened his fingers around mine and led me down to the end of the pier, where the larger boats were docked.

Even before we stopped at the end of one of the docks, there was no doubt which of the floating behemoths belonged to Emilio Santiago. It was certainly not the largest yacht in the marina, or the flashiest. There appeared to be three or four decks on the thing, depending on if the top sun deck with the Jacuzzi counted. It looked like there might be a pool at the stern of the main deck, but other than that, I couldn't make out much of anything behind the tinted windows of the ... I checked the bow ... El Dragón Marino. I thought "The Sea Dragon" seemed a bit Game of Thrones-y for a 150-foot luxury yacht, but I filed it away as another glimpse into Emilio's psyche.

No, more than anything about the vessel itself, it was the half-dozen or so thugs sporting casual dress and fully-automatic weapons that really set Emilio's yacht apart from the others. Make that eight thugs, I corrected myself as another guard came into view on the upper deck.

"You stay here with Mateo until I signal you to approach," Ivan murmured. I nodded, but doubted that he noticed; his whole attention seemed to be fixed on The Sea Dragon and the beast about to emerge from its belly.