Free Enslaved By The Ocean by Bella Jewel Page A

potatoes are heavy and filling, but they’re bland, and I’ve worked out bland works. When I finish up my dinner, I have another shower and find myself a long daggy shirt in the small pile of clothes Jess gave me. I slide it on and find myself a comb before heading out to the sofa.  
    Hendrix is at his desk when I step out, and he looks up when he hears the door creak. We might not have a personal connection, but there’s certainly a sexual connection. It’s hard not to create something sexual when the air crackles every time he walks into the room. It’s strong, and intense, and so alluring. I watch as he lets his eyes travel down my body, before lifting back up to my face. He looks like he’s satisfied. “You’re looking healthier, it’s good.”  
    I cross my arms and walk over to the sofa, sitting down and running the comb t hrough my damp hair. “I don’t feel all that much better.”  
    “Has your leg healed?”  
    I shift uncomfortably, and stare down at the small purple scar on my leg where he shot me—well, where he grazed me. “It’s fine,” I mutter.  
    Hendrix is flicking through some papers on his desk, and I notice his eyes are narrowed like he’s deep in thought. He reaches down and opens a drawer, and pulls out a phone. My eyes widen, and I try to smother the gasp that escapes my lips. Hendrix has a phone that’s not just a ship line? Oh God. He lifts the tiny device up and punches in a number before bringing it to his ear. He waits a moment, not looking at me, probably not even thinking about the fact that he just showed me a way out.  
    “JR, yeah, it’s me. You got his location yet?”  
    I watch him nod.  
    “Fuck. Yeah. Let me know when you do.”  
    He brings the phone down, and growls a curse. He’s obviously having a bad night. He turns and storms toward the bathroom, muttering something about incompetent idiots. He slams the door, and I leap to my feet. I don’t think, I don’t hesitate, I just run toward the phone on the desk. I flip it open, darting my gaze to the bathroom door. Oh God, I have seconds, maybe minutes, if I’m lucky. He could walk back out at any moment.  
    Adrenalin fills my veins, and I begin to shake as I fumble with the keys, punching in Eric’s mother’s number. I know it by heart, because we’ve been close for so many years. My heart is thumping, and my head is spinning as I struggle to catch my breath. Come on . Come on . I bring the phone to my ear when a hand lashes out and thumps my wrist, sending the phone flying. I spin around, crying out as I lunge towards it, landing on my knees and wincing in pain.  
    Hendrix is on me in seconds, flattening his body over mine. He lashes out and grips my wrist as I attempt to reach out for the phone. His hard body is crushing me into to the floor, but I still squirm, desperation taking over.  
    “Enough,” he rasps into my ear, tightening his grip on my wrist. Tears burn my eyes, and I struggle to blink them back. No weakness . I swore I’d show no more.  
    “Just let me go, I don’t want you to sell me!”  
    He flips me over, and puts his hands either side of my head, pinning me with his gaze. “You made a deal, a choice.”  
    “You didn’t give me many options,” I yell, squirming.  
    “You’re not in the position to be given options.”  
    His dark eyes are piercing and deadly.  
    “Just get off me, get off me!” I cry, squirming.  
    “This is the only phone on the ship,” he growls. “It will now remain with me at all times.”  
    “You’re a pig!” I spit as he moves his body from mine.  
    I scramble to my feet, and turn, rushing toward the sofa. I drop down onto it, sinking into the old, well-used cushions. I grip the sheet, and I pull it up over my head before letting the tears escape my eyelids. I sob quietly, not wanting him to hear my weakness.  
    He doesn’t leave the room, and he doesn’t speak to me again, but I know he can hear me. I know he can hear my