Page 54 of The Taskmaster

“I can be very persuasive.”

I didn’t reply, but as I sat there in the darkness of the van, contemplating going on a boat in the night with this man, I started to panic.

“Do I need to be on the boat? Can’t you drop me off somewhere?”

“And miss out on a valuable lesson?” He tutted and shook his head. “No. You need to see this through to the end, Abigail. This one is yours.”

What was mine?

The crime?

Because judging from the way he was talking, he thought I should be proud of it. And most times, I was, but not this time. This time, I’d failed.

“I’d prefer to go home,” I said, trying one last time to get myself out of this. Maybe I could open the van door when heslowed down and jump out? I’d probably end up in a hospital bed, but that might be better than whatever might happen to me on that boat.

“Not gonna happen,” he said, and I covertly reached forward again, gripping the door handle, and then pulled it to try and open the door. It didn’t budge.

“Are you trying to open the door and do a runner while I’m driving?”

“No.”

Yes.

“You are a terrible liar, Abigail. Don’t you want this sorted out? Or do you want me to bring her to your apartment so you can figure it out on your own?”

I wanted to wake up and find out none of this had happened, but we don’t always get what we want.

“How do I know I’m safe?” I asked, choosing honesty.

“How do any of us know that?”

It wasn’t the response I expected. But then he pointed to the glove box.

“I’ve got a gun in there. It’s loaded. If it makes you feel better, you can bring it with you onto the boat.”

I’d never shot a gun. We lived in the U.K. My father didn’t even carry a gun. But it was something, I guess.

I opened the glove box, reached inside and took the gun out. I didn’t even know how to check if it was loaded, but I held onto it as Isaiah pulled off the main road and onto a dirt track that I knew would lead us to Hadfield Lake.

When we arrived, he parked the van and switched off the engine. Then he turned in his seat to face me, took the gun from my hand and pulled the chamber, or whatever the fuck it was on the top, to show me the bullets inside.

“See, fully loaded. Just point and shoot,” he said, handing it back to me.

“So simple,” I replied, and he gave me a quirky smile.

“Let’s go for a sail, yeah?”

The door was unlocked now, and I climbed down from the van, watching as Isaiah pulled the side door open and picked up the plastic burrito.

“Don’t forget your backpack,” he told me, and I twisted to the side to show it was on my shoulder.

I followed him down to the small wooden jetty, where a few boats were moored.

“Are you sure this is safe? I mean, someone on one of the other boats might see us.”

“I own all the boats,” he replied. “So unless I have a stowaway, I think we’ll be okay.”

“You own all the boats?” This guy was becoming more of an anomaly the more I got to know him. “Why would you need four boats?”