"I can’t! I hurt my leg."
"I said get up," Sal demanded, grabbing Shy by the arm and pulling her to her feet.
"Where are you taking me?" Shy asked as she struggled just enough to put on a good show, but not enough to get herself killed.
"We’re taking a little trip to Miami. Now, stop fuckin’ around and get on that boat," he commanded and pointed at the boat. As they continued walking, Shy looked straight at the man and mouthed the words, Help me.
Chapter Two
Nick hung up the phone and lay across the king-sized bed at the Lucayan Beach Hotel. He looked out the sliding glass door at the Caribbean Sea and tried to clear his head. He got up, walked over to the mini-bar, and took out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black. Nick felt bad, very bad about allowing Shy to be kidnapped. What else could I have done? What could I have done to save her? There was only one answer. He could never have never been there in the first place.
And what would he say to Black?
How would Nick explain to him that he was not only the reason the shooting started, but that he had a shot, but was too slow in taking it?
He went to the door and looked out. As Nick finished the small bottle of Johnnie Black, he gave some thought to the fact that he had hung out in New York the night before, caught an early flight, and had been up the better part of the day. He did close his eyes during the flight to the Bahamas, but now, he suddenly felt tired.
As Nick laid back across the bed, his head began to spin. He realized the he and Shy drank quite a bit that afternoon. He closed his eyes and began to think back over what had just happened.
"Excuse me a minute, Shy. I’ll be right back." Nick got up and walked over to a man he thought he knew, sitting alone at a table by the door.
"Roman, Roman Patterson?" Nick asked.