Read Online Cartel by Lili St Germain - Free Book Online

he’d picked for me — a black skin-tight dress that hugged me in all the right (or wrong) places with a plunging neckline that stopped barely above my navel. That was only a slight exaggeration. He ever so graciously let me pack a grey zip-up hoodie in my carry-on bag (again, purchased by him, tacky and cheap) and I hugged that jacket tightly around myself as we took to the skies.
    It didn’t erase the cold terror that was growing in the pit of my stomach, though. With each moment that passed, as we got closer to our destination, thoughts of what Murphy might do to me once we were on land and alone plagued me. I talked a brave talk, and I snapped back at these men in conversation, but I already knew Murphy was bigger than me, stronger than me, and if he wanted to pin me down and force himself on me, I’d be pretty fucking useless to stop him without some kind of a weapon.
    Oh, how I longed for a weapon.
    The plane ride was bumpy at first, as we flew through storm clouds that were common in the tropics. I was used to flying back and forth from my stateside college a few times a year, but I still hated flying. Hated not being in control. This time, however, I lifted up the window shade and watched jagged streaks of lightning spark between clouds, thinking I was safer up here than I would be once we landed. After the pilot managed to divert the plane from the bad weather, we levelled out and the air hostesses started rolling food trolleys down both aisles.
    ‘No thank you,’ I said sharply as the air hostess tried to hand me a tray. She was distracted and continued to push it in my face, so I pushed it back towards her. ‘I’m not hungry,’ I said, louder this time.
    The air hostess looked affronted, and was about to withdraw the foil-wrapped tray when a hand shot across mine and grabbed hold of it.
    ‘She’s watching her weight,’ Murphy said to the air hostess, charming her with his fake smile and candy-sweet tone. ‘I keep telling her she’s beautiful just the way she is, but she keeps on with these silly diets.’ He shook his head for effect and took the tray from the air hostess.
    The air hostess moved on and I felt a hand grip the back of my neck.
    I tried to wrench my head away, but Murphy was surprisingly strong. With his other hand, he unlatched my tray table and let it fall into my lap, pushing my meal in front of me.
    I recoiled as he brought his mouth close to my ear. ‘Take the foil off,’ he said, his nails digging into the soft skin on my neck. ‘Move the food around, put some in your mouth, and spit it back into your napkin.’
    He pulled at my neck, forcing me to meet his gaze.
    ‘No,’ I replied. I knew I should just do what he said, but I’d always been the stubborn, hot-headed girl who hated being told what to do. This was all I had — a small chance to defy him, to defy someone. A tiny choice that I could make in a reality where I was no longer in control of anything.
    His jaw tightened. ‘You know air marshals carry guns, don’t you, Ana?’ he threatened.
    I returned my gaze to the TV screen in front of me and feigned indifference.
    ‘Go fuck yourself in the ass with your gun,’ I hissed.
    He leaned back and away, as far as he could, which wasn’t very far in the cramped confines of economy. ‘You’re not afraid of me, are you?’
    Of course I’m afraid of you. I could feel his eyes burning into the side of my face as I pushed my food to the side. ‘Nope,’ I said boldly.
    Murphy took the meal from my tray and held it in his hand.
    ‘You should go to the bathroom while you have a chance,’ he said pointedly.
    I was confused. ‘Emilio said —’
    ‘It’s a nine-hour flight,’ Murphy said in a low voice. ‘If someone noticed you hadn’t used the bathroom once in that whole time they would think it very strange.’
    I saw the opportunity for a few minutes alone and latched my tray table up. Murphy sat to the side, letting me pass. I slid past him, trying my best not to