Page 10 of All The Way Under

Brody stands, and it’s a little surreal because he has to duck to keep his head from hitting the ceiling. He is the epitome of a man, which begs the question.

“How the hell did you get captured? You’re double the size of them.”

“Money and power make them tick. Obviously. Look at where they live,” he replies. “And I’m just a mechanic who likes to lift weights. Who the hell expects to be kidnapped? I didn’t think that’s what was happening to me until it was too late.”

I smirk. “I killed two of the bastards on my way out.”

I slow blink once and again.

“It’s why they hate me, and I scream a lot. Have to act like a crazy killer to keep my reputation intact.”

Brody’s eyes widen, and it’s satisfying to watch the shock cross his features.

“You killed two men? How?”

“With my bare hands and pure female rage,” I joke. “And a gun, obviously. What was I supposed to do when they tried to board me with black masks and rifles?” I give the same word back to him.

“I shot them. Were you sailing the channel without a gun?” I ask, dumbfounded that a man who looks like this didn’t prepare. Brody looks like the kind of guy who is prepared for anything.

“I didn’t anticipate sailing the channel. It was a backup plan when my GPS went offline, and I wasn’t sure what to do next.”

So he’s not a great sailor. Maybe not even a good one. I won’t hold it against him.

I fire back. “Where did you leave from?”

“Lisbon,” he replies.

“What was the purpose of your sail?”

He leans back on his elbows.

“Why the interrogation?”

“I just want to learn,” I say. “Plus, no skilled sailor doesn’t bring some form of self-defense, especially when you’re solo. Trying to figure out what you were thinking.”

His gaze flits to the bars of our cage door.

“I was heading to Australia to spread my friend’s ashes along the coast, and I’m sure you know how strict their laws are.

Sailing in general is a fucking dreadful pastime.

I was merely doing what was asked of me.

” Brody’s gaze turns wistful. “What are the odds they let us out of here if you stop screaming? Not free us, completely, but perhaps put us to work while they figure out the politics. They could use help building, I bet. That’s the angle I’ll use. ”

I hold up one hand.

“Wait, wait. You said, I’ll. So I’m not invited? This is just your plan?”

Brody tilts his head to the side, his jaw working back and forth as he lets his eyes cut down to my legs and back up to my face.

“I’m not sure you’re worth the risk. What are you good at other than screaming and eavesdropping?”

I can’t help it. My eyes flare.

“What have I done to deserve automatic disdain other than give you information to form your escape plan? You are so barbaric. You haven’t even asked me my name!”

“What’s your name?” he says, smirking.

I can tell I’ve caught him off guard. Like I tripped him up in some way. It’s exhilarating.

I don’t even want to tell him, but that feels too juvenile given our circumstances. If I’d met Brody in the wild, I’d have walked away from him without a word the first time he opened his mouth. I’m not his type.

“Saylor.” Then I spell it, because that’s what I always do. My mom had to spell it a special way.

“Like a boat?” he asks, amusement lighting his face. “Like your hobby? Am I adding lying to the list of things you’re good at, or do your parents hate you that much?”

Scowling, I let my mouth open.

“You will not speak to me like that,” I snap. “There’s no reason for you to be this hateful!”

“Getting taken from a boat I hate, riding in another boat I hate, landing here at a place filled with bugs and whatever that animal is that won’t stop screeching, I also hate, being put in a cage that anyone would hate, and being trapped with a woman who thinks she knows it all, but also got captured, isn’t a really great place for my personality to shine.

Admit, at least, it’s ironic you were named after something that will lead to your death. ”

“I can’t believe you said that.” I shake my head, wondering if he was dropped as an infant.

He might be the single most awful human I’ve ever met, and let me tell you, I’ve met a lot of people.

“My father named me after his passion. The one thing he loved other than my mother. I love my name even if you deem it ironic. I don’t plan on dying here with a man who has no manners, class, or intelligence.”

I whiffed on the last one, because it’s obvious Brody isn’t a run-of-the-mill idiot. He’s educated. I can tell. That makes it a little worse.

“Your parents must be so proud that you treat women like this. I bet they brag to all their friends. And the screeching, it’s a lemur,” I say smugly.

He has the good sense to appear mildly embarrassed. Ah, so he does care about his parents. Noted.

“You’re right,” he says. “I shouldn’t have said that.” He doesn’t apologize, though. “If we have to share this space, we should be cordial.”

His gaze wanders back to the door of the cage, where the last torch is almost burned out. The walls and floor are made of a hard mud substance, which makes me think it could cave in any second.

“Is there a bathroom in here? I have to take a leak.”

I grin. “Let the fun begin, roomie. Behind the half wall behind me is a hole in the ground. Our gracious hosts did put a roll of the thinnest toilet paper known to man in there. They told me I should be grateful.”

Brody stands, stretching his arms over his chest, and pulling his knees up and down. The sedative causes soreness, and I feel a little bad for him that he’s experiencing it for the first time, but he’s barely even human in his conscious form, so it’s hard to express that.

“Figure out where you want to sleep,” he says, stepping next to me and back behind the mud wall. He laughs when he sees the hole and makes a joke about digging out of the side of the wall.

“The whole structure would collapse, suffocating us. It was the first thing I thought of. We need to work on the other plan of being released during the day so we can explore and see where we are and what we can do to get out of here. Maybe I can find my satellite phone they stole off me when they drugged me.”

I lay down with my head on my balled-up rain jacket.

“Maybe I can kill a couple more of them while I’m at it, really make some noise.”

He zips up his fly. I hear it, and then he says, “We aren’t killing anyone.

That’s counterintuitive to getting them on our good side.

” He pauses. “Actually, you go ahead and kill people. That will make me look that much better, and not only will I get free time, but I might also get my own cage. They’ll be worried you’ll kill me too. ”

“Were you born this annoying, or is works poorly with others on your report card?” I ask. “It was a joke. I’m not going to kill anyone else, and especially not you, even though you might deserve it at this point.”

He steps over me and lies down, propping his head on his hands. He exhales noisily, but keeps his eyes open, focused on the metal bars of the door.

“ Gets shit done is on my report card, baby. Now go to sleep. We don’t need a cranky, screaming Saylor.”

“Was that a joke?” I ask. It would be a step up from an insult at this point.

Brody smacks his lips. “I wouldn’t joke about something so serious.”

“Did you just call me baby?” I say, roasting everything he just said because it wasn’t offensive.

He turns his head to look over at me. We’re probably two feet apart.

“Baby suits you more than Saylor,” he says.

“Why?” I return.

“Because someone needs to put your ass in the corner.”

He laughs, his white teeth sparkling in my lantern light. I hate that he’s attractive. I hate that he makes jokes and is sardonic to a fault. I hate that his body looks to be a perfect specimen too.

But part of me is glad I hate everything about him, because if I didn’t, if he was polite, and mannered, and kind on top of the exterior package, something completely different would be happening in this dirt cage, and that is positively evil to even consider.