10 feet Under

Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

Nadlynn's POV

The next day was extremely busy for me and Marino. We spent most of our time in the secret room practicing our self defense skills, or as I liked to call it, the kicking ass routine. It consisted of many weapons ( the guns were unloaded for now), and disguises. Each day the ship inched closer to France, I became a bit more nervous. I mean, I've had many close to death experiences, but none of them were as dangerous as this. It really freaked me out.

"Okay, that's a wrap.", Marino called out from the other end of the room. He was admiring the work he accomplished on an old jet ski that had been laying in the corner of the room for years. Its paint was glossy and white, with black stripes across the bottom, and its leather seat was shiny and brand new. He had replaced the motor and tweaked the engine a bit, so now it worked perfectly.

I watched Marino as he circled the jet ski, inspecting his work. His gray wife beater was slung over his shoulder, and he occasionally used it to wipe sweat off of his face. He ran a hand through his golden-brown hair, and let out a sigh of relief.

How did I not notice for the past few days, that he was such a fittie? I mean he had everything- the six pack, the awesome hair, the baby blue eyes...maybe it's an Italian thing? Even his eye lashes are as long as mine, and that's really sad, considering I have been using the Latisse Eyelash Growth Serum for almost a year now. Totally unfair!

I didn't realize I was gawking at him until he gave me a weird look, and a devilish smirk. I looked down at my hands, and began mentally clawing my eyes out. He walked over to me with his black nike sweatpants hanging extra low on his waist, and his gray wife beater around his neck.

"It's 2. We'll reach France in about 5 hours. You nervous?"

"A little."

He gave me a reasssuring smile, and sat in front of me.

"Don't be. We'll figure this out."

I sighed, and nodded. Ever since Marino told me he would get me back home, our relationship changed. He was neither friend or foe, but we managed to get along. As difficult as it was, I stopped all of the name calling and harassing. Genuinely I was a nice person; I just felt it necessary to have my guard up, especially when you've been taken hostage by a stranger. Now that I deemed him some sort of acquaintance, I was actually nice to him. To be honest, it made everything a bit more awkward. Without our constant bickering to fill the silence, we could basically hear each other's heart beating. I hated it.

It was awkwardly quiet for a few minutes, before he nervously scratched his head and spoke up.

"Uh... So, I guess I can tell you the plan for when we get to France."

"Okay, so what's the plan?"

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper, as well as a pair of black-framed glasses. I stifled a laugh.

"Aww how cute! The big bad tough guy wears glasses!"

He rolled his eyes.

"Well shit; sorry I don't have perfect vision. Besides, I like to think that these glasses make me look smart and sexy."

I busted out laughing, until I could feel abs forming in my stomach.

"Trust me, you look as dumb as you did five seconds ago."

"So you admit that they do make me look sexier though?", he inquired with a smirk.

Yes. Yes. Yes!

"I never said that. But to answer your question, no. They don't."

"So you think I look sexier with them off?"