Devon Hartford - Reckless

Figures what out? I wondered.

“Sooner or later,” she sneered, “the game will get old for Christos, and he’ll end up with me, where he belongs. Not. You.” She jabbed her glass on her final words and champagne spilled over the rim.

The grim mask of despair on her face was horrid. I’d never seen her so ugly. Her sweaty drunkenness and smudged makeup made her look even worse. She scowled at me, but I detected more than anger brimming beneath her contorted features.

It was obvious that frustrated desire was torturing Tiffany to her soul, but I didn’t think the anguish of unfulfilled love was what ate away at her. It was her greed, her lust for the one thing she couldn’t have.

Not having Christos was killing her.

Tiffany swayed lazily and a final dribble of champagne splashed onto her shoes. “You ruined my shoes, you boorish whore.”

Whore…

I wasn’t going to let her get to me. Tiffany wasn’t going to take me back to my past.

Bitch. Slut. Whore…

I was stronger than her. Tiffany was pathetic.

She curled her lips and said, “These Louboutins cost more than your car, you asscap. Get off my boat.”

“What? We’re in the middle of the ocean!”

“You heard me, get off my boat!” She lunged at me.

I sidestepped.

Tiffany stumbled into the handrail. “Oof!” She folded over the metal bar and almost went over edge.

I grabbed for the back of her dress. “Tiffany! Watch out!” If I hadn’t caught her, she would’ve fallen and face-planted on the transom deck at the back of the yacht, eight feet below.

“Let go of me, you cunt!” She spun around and slapped me in the face.

CRACK!

It sounded like a pistol shot. I reeled back, my face stinging. I imagined the red hand-print that would inevitably form on my cheek. I was mortified. Did this yacht have any lifeboats? I needed to abandon ship.

Holding my hand to my cheek, I backed up a step and bumped into Madison. Romeo stood next to her.

Madison gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry, Sam. You didn’t deserve that,” she consoled.

“Thanks, Mads,” I whispered, still in shock.

Romeo murmured under his breath. “That rabid vagina has no class, no matter how fancy her yacht is, or how much money she has.”

Tiffany sagged against the railing. struggling to keep herself on her drunk-ass feet.

Romeo patted my shoulder. “Forget about that uber goober.”

Tiffany glared at him, then flexed her fingernails at me. She looked ready to lunge again.

Madison stepped in front of me. “Relax, Tiffany. You’ve had way too much to drink.”

Tiffany ignored Madison. Her sights were still laser-focused on me. She rocked unsteadily on her feet, either weighing the odds, or too drunk to punch.

Madison balled her petite fists and growled, “Back off, Tiffany. I’m warning you.” Now she had Tiffany’s attention.

“You’re no better than she is, stupid whore,” Tiffany hissed at Madison.

“Is everything okay?” Christos said as he pedaled down the stairs from the top deck.

Kamiko followed. “What happened, you guys?”

“Uh…” I was speechless.

Tiffany stopped in her tracks. The look of anguish that flashed across her face as she gazed at Christos almost broke my heart. Poor thing. But I was all done being compassionate with her. When someone tries to slice your eyes out, it’s time to give up on the goodwill and leave it at polite pity.

Everyone surrounded Tiffany.

I felt like I was witnessing some sort of old-world shunning ceremony where everyone officially scorned the village shrew for taking things a step too far.

Christos walked up to me and I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding onto him. He draped a protective arm over my shoulders.

“What happened, Samantha?” Christos asked, taking in the situation. “I thought I heard a scuffle down here.”

I rested my stinging cheek against Christos’ chest, hiding the red evidence of Tiffany’s ire. “It’s nothing,” I whispered.

Tiffany’s eyes brimmed with tears. A heavy mask of abject panic and profound misery weighed her down. Her head sunk between her shoulders. She barged past the crowd that had formed on the back deck to gawk at the scene. She plowed past, into the living room, then made her way down the narrow staircase beside the kitchen.

You could’ve heard a pin drop, the crowd was so silent. The sound of a door slamming downstairs shattered the silence momentarily, but it returned as everyone gaped wordlessly at each other.

I hoped Tiffany would stay locked in whatever room she’d retreated to for the remainder of the trip.

Why did I have the sinking feeling that whatever Tiffany did, tonight or in the days to come, she would make sure that someone’s voyage ended up at the bottom of the sea?

I just prayed it wouldn’t be mine.

SAMANTHA

When the commotion died down, and I reassured Christos that I was okay, we all rejoined the crowd inside. Because the alcohol had been flowing for awhile, it didn’t take long for everyone to rekindle the party atmosphere. Conversation picked up, and soon the main room filled with celebratory laughter and good cheer.

The dark haze I’d felt after Tiffany’s outburst faded from my memory. A few more drinks helped push away the bad vibes. I was in a saucy mood.

“You ready to snoop around the rest of the boat,” Romeo asked mischievously, “while the wicked witch is asleep?”

I giggled. “Why not? Maybe we’ll find her magic mirror or her bubbling cauldron.”

“Or mermen trapped in the cargo hold,” Kamiko slurred, then hiccupped. “Mermen are hot . I require the services of my own personal merman right now,” she said lustily.

“Have you been drinking , Kamiko?” Romeo gasped.

Kamiko’s eyelids were at half-mast and her cheeks glowed red. Frowning, she said, “So fucking what? It’s New Year’s Eve, you vag hag, and I’m not the one driving the boat.”

Madison and I burst out laughing.

“Goodness gracious!” Romeo feigned offense. “Who knew Kamiko was such a mean drunk?”

We made our way down the cramped spiral staircase beside the kitchen. A number of closed doors encircled the downstairs hallway.

“How many frickin’ rooms does this yacht have?” I whispered.

Knowing Tiffany was down below somewhere had me vaguely worried. I suddenly felt like I was in one of those trapped-at-sea monster movies, and some creeping deep-sea Tiffany might burst through one of the cabin doors any second, roaring and raging like a spurned she-shark. We’d all be trapped belowdecks while she rampaged and bit everyone’s heads off.

“It’s really quiet down here,” Kamiko mumbled. “Do you think Tiffany’s dead?”

“We can hope,” Romeo said.

A doorway at the end of the hall stood open a crack. I peeked inside, expecting to see Tiffany sprawled out on the bed, either dead or sleeping off her drunk. Nope, the room was empty.

The four of us crept inside. I closed the door and fumbled for the light switch. The room was beautiful. It must have been the master suite.

“This is nicer than most of the hotels I’ve stayed at,” Madison said.

Romeo flipped on the lights in the bathroom.

“OMG,” Kamiko said. “They have a bidet on their boat.”

“That bidet is bigger than my bathtub,” Madison said.

“My dorm doesn’t even have a bathtub,” Kamiko said longingly.

“Tiffany is scary rich,” Madison said. “You’d think she’d be less of a bitch with so much money, but I guess it doesn’t work that way.”

I stuck my head in the bathroom. “We should go, you guys. No one else is down here.”