Page 72 of Under the Radar
Mo sobbed in between huge draughts of fresh air. “Oh, good God, you found me. How did you find me?” Of all the people in the world? Jason?
“Just relax, Maureen.” Jason lifted her to a standing position and scooped her into his arms. “I’ll take that blindfold off you once you’re in a chair.”
A freefall of tears cascaded down her face. Her emotions were askew. The anger and fear she’d endured replaced by a sudden giddy assurance of freedom. “I’ve never been so happy to hear your voice in my entire life,” she gasped. “You actually found me, thank you, thank you, thank you. I thought I might die of heatstroke in that thing—and so seasick.”
Jason set her down firmly in a plush leather armchair. Comfort enveloped her bruised body and the tears surged again. She let them fall unrestrained. “Thank you. Please get this blindfold off me. I’m begging.”
His hands fumbled with the blindfold. “I’ll be right back—I need scissors.”
Mo waited and waited for what seemed like an eternity. “Bring your cell phone, Jason. I should call my parents and Mac to let them know I’m alright,” she called out. Mo didn’t hear him return but felt his hand on her head.
“Stay still. Whoever put this thing on you knew what they were doing. Let me cut the fabric. I don’t want to nick you.”
Either the scissors weren’t sharp or he was being overly careful because it took a couple minutes for the blindfold to fall from her face. She saw him through her blurred vision stroll to the edge of the boat and toss the blindfold into the sea. Why did he do that?
Mo squinted as the pressure in her eyes returned to normal. She’d never take sitting up straight for granted again. “Thank you so much.” Her chest ached with gratitude as she gazed out at the horizon and the running lights from other boats illuminated on the water. It was dusk, and the pink and blue hues in the sky whispered of hope for tomorrow. Her tears continued to fall as the moon peaked in the distance. She shook her head. “I know you hate crying, but I’m overcome with emotion right now.”
Jason’s terse voice interrupted her reverie. “Lean forward so I can remove the restraints from your wrists.”
Mo laid her cheek on the blessedly cool table and winced. That must be the side where Alice said she’d taken a blow. Jason snipped at the bindings on her wrists. Her left hand dropped free and then her right. Howling in pain, she tried to move her arms, but they sagged at her sides. The muscles burned, like appendages at a loss for movement. Mo groaned with the effort required to slide the little knife under her thigh and dragged her right hand onto her lap. Jason brought her left hand around and set it next to the right one. From the corner of her eye, she caught him tossing the bloodied rags into the water. Why is he doing that?
“Lean back into the chair. I’ve got to get the blood flowing freely again so you can use your hands. I’ll rub your shoulders for you.” Impatience punctuated his every word.
Mo yelped in pain. He lightened his touch, and within a few minutes, she could move her neck and shoulders freely. Jason pulled a chair around and took one of her hands in his and massaged it, gently extending and warming each finger. She couldn’t help but remember how he’d never lifted a finger to help her with any ailment when they were together. Had she read him all wrong? Perhaps she was seeing the real Jason for the first time. Pretty damn late for them as a couple, but she knew she'd never be able to repay him for rescuing her from that damn crate.
He opened a bottle of water and handed it to her. “Drink up. You’re probably dehydrated.” A satisfied smile drifted across his lips. “Your face is messed up, babe.”
She gratefully accepted the bottle and guzzled, glancing around to see if they were alone. Something’s not right. The drink cooled her burning throat like a salve. She looked Jason in the eye. “Your nose is crooked. I’m sorry about that. I’d take it back if I could. Didn’t know it was you on the other side. W-w-worst day of my life,” she shivered.
Jason raised an eyebrow and nodded. “I’ll get you a blanket. How about a sandwich too?”
“O-okay. Blanket first, p-please. Really cold now.” What the hell? A little while ago, Mo thought she’d roast to death in a crate, and now she was cold to the bone. The sun had dipped below the horizon.
Mo weakly rubbed her arms to warm up and looked at her feet. They were still tethered together. She reached down to untie the complicated knots when Jason wrapped a blanket around her torso and set a sandwich in front of her.
“Don’t worry about your feet. I’ll get the tape off in a bit. Warm up and eat something first. I want to make sure you get your strength back. Don’t want you passing out on me.”
Mo glanced at him. He’d put on a thick jacket when he’d retrieved the blanket for her and had an iPad tucked under his arm. In all the years she’d known him, he’d never shared one of his jackets with her. “Okay.” She took a bite of the sandwich. Ugh, egg salad. Right now, food was food. She needed fuel for strength, even if it had mayonnaise in it. “May I use your phone? I need to let a few people know that I’m alright.” Mo flexed her toes and ankles; they were turning numb again and hurt like the dickens.
“Crap. I left my phone in the galley. I’ll get it when you’re done eating.” He placed the iPad on the table and pulled up a chair.
Mo set the sandwich down and rolled her shoulders. Where was his exuberance at finding her? Was this really the time to work on his computer? No, wait—that was her iPad. It had three little stick-on hearts on the cover. The kids at school had given them to her. How did he get her computer? The last time she’d seen it was in her apartment. Fear snaked through her belly, and she coughed mid-swallow. “Perhaps you wouldn’t mind cutting the restraints off my feet while I eat? I’d appreciate the ability to move, and I need to use the bathroom.”
Jason rubbed his hands together and opened the iPad. “Yeah, sure. In a couple minutes.”
How did he know where to find me? Is he the perpetrator and not the rescuer?As much as she disliked him, he’d been a fixture in her life for years. Mo cringed inwardly. He’s my father’s lawyer. He works for the company. There’s got to be a reasonable explanation. She glanced around the deck. “This is a beautiful yacht. Is it yours?”
Jason focused on the iPad like it contained the secrets to the galaxy. Mo attempted to keep her voice conversational and light, even though the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. “Did you hear me, Jason?”
“What? Oh... I’m kind of absorbed in a little project here. It’s not mine.” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “I leased it.”
Mo reached down and undid three knots on her ankle bindings all while trying to move as little as possible and appear content. She accidentally kicked the leg of the table struggling to undo the fourth knot. Jason glanced at her feet and chuckled. “There’s fifteen knots if you’re counting. How fast do you think you can get them undone, Maureen?” He released an exasperated breath as he stood, grabbed her hands, and shoved the armchair so close to the table that her bust rested on the glass top.
Her heart raced and her stomach rolled with nausea again. She gently tried to push the chair back a few inches.
He slammed his fist on the table and pointed an index finger at her. “Do not try to move your chair again.”
She yearned to flee as images of what-could-be flashed through her mind. “How did you know where to find me, Jason? I didn’t notify you when I left town.” She already suspected his answer would terrify her.
He didn’t look up but continued to tap at the keyboard. “Guess I knew where to look.”
Her teeth chattered, and she pulled the blanket tighter around her body and licked her lips. A sense of dread enveloped her. “What’s really going on here? I have a right to know.”
He nailed her with a cold stare. “I’m in charge, Maureen. You’ve got no rights.”