Burn

Being able to talk to Jenner had helped calm her nerves. Their two conversations hadn’t lasted long, just long enough to reassure each other, but just hearing Jenner’s voice and knowing she was all right gave her hope that they’d both see the end of this alive and well. Jenner’s captors were letting her call, at an ungodly hour, which probably meant she’d been pestering them nonstop and they’d finally caved. She liked that scenario, because it meant that Jenner was winning, even if it was in something small.

Syd could even envision how Jenner had convinced them to let her call. Jenner didn’t trust easily; just because they told her Syd was all right didn’t mean Jenn would believe them, and she was perfectly capable of digging in her heels and refusing to cooperate unless they proved it, every day.

That was Jenn: not tough, but definitely prickly. She’d be frightened, but she’d get in there and fight anyway. In other words, almost the polar opposite of Syd herself, who had never fought for anything in her life.

She was suddenly ashamed of herself. She’d had all the benefits a life of comfort could provide. She’d never done without, never been threatened, had never been hungry – unless she was dieting – and still she’d let life walk all over her. She’d had a broken engagement because she’d found out the so-called love of her life had been more interested in her money than in her. Big deal. Jenner’s life had been a lot tougher than that, and she hadn’t let it cow her. Instead she sucked it up, and came out swinging.

Out in the parlor she heard a knock and a voice singsonging, "Room service!"

Within seconds, Kim slipped into the bedroom with her, and closed the door. Syd barely looked around from her stance at the window. Even if she had the nerve, she wouldn’t raise the alarm, because of what the people who held Jenner might do to her. That was a good excuse to not be brave, but it was also true.

Kim stood listening until she heard the room service guy leave, then she said, "Lunch is here."

"So I heard," Syd said flatly, not exactly snapping but close to it. "What did you order for me?"

"A BLT." Kim hesitated. "If you want something else, just say so. We can order in a pizza, or Chinese, Mexican – whatever you want."

Wasn’t that accommodating of them? The prisoner got to choose her food. She looked down at her hands as a thought occurred to her. Actually, yes, that was accommodating of them. Prisoners all over the world would like to be able to order any food they wanted. So why were her captors being so nice? Why were Jenner’s captors letting her call every day?

Because they needed her. The answer slapped her in the face. How obvious could it be? They needed Jenn, and they were using Syd’s safety to coerce her into doing whatever they wanted. Jenn, of course, had realized that, and was using their need for her in order to make demands of her own.

That worked both ways, didn’t it? If Jenn wouldn’t do what they wanted unless she was assured Syd was all right, then … what if she, Syd, refused to talk to Jenner unless she got some concessions, too? They’d want to keep her as happy as possible, so she’d continue talking and keeping Jenn in line.

The problem was, she didn’t know at what point she and Jenn would become more trouble than they were worth.

She’d have to be careful. She wouldn’t demand anything outrageous. She knew she couldn’t just walk out of the suite any time she wanted, but, damn it, she wasn’t going to cower in this room like a ninny.

"I want some books to read," she said. She’d brought one, thinking she and Jenn would be too busy with all the activities onboard for her to have much reading time, but she’d finished it the first day.

"Okay, fine," said Kim. "We’ll get some."

"And I’m not hiding in the bedroom anymore," Syd continued. "Jenn won’t do whatever it is you want unless she talks to me every day. And unless you back off, then I’m not going to talk to her."

With that she went into the bathroom to wash her hands before eating. Kim stared after her for a brief, befuddled moment, then she went out into the parlor where Adam and Dori were waiting. "Shit," she said softly, not wanting Sydney to hear. "She called our bluff."

Chapter Twenty

ON THE THIRD NIGHT, AT THE CAPTAIN’S COCKTAIL party, where the ship’s captain made himself available to the passengers, Jenner turned around and found herself face-to-face with Frank Larkin.

She’d been standing with Faith and Cael, making enough conversation to give the impression that she and Faith were at least friendly acquaintances, smiling enough at Cael to give another impression entirely. For once Cael didn’t have a death grip on her elbow, mainly because he’d been forced to release her to shake hands with someone Faith introduced him to. Afterward she’d linked her arm through his, so he wouldn’t suffer from anxiety and his issues with trust – namely a complete lack thereof. She had leaned against him very slightly, tilting her head to smile up at him, hugged his arm to her breasts. In short, she’d acted like a besotted fool.

The captain, Emilio Lamberti, was making an amusing little speech in a charming Italian accent, and they were listening to him. Half-listening, anyway. As it was at most cocktail parties, the din of conversation had died down only a little when he began speaking.

Then, in one of those almost-accidents that happen in crowds, Jenner heard a loud laugh somewhere behind her and automatically turned to see what was happening, at the same time Frank Larkin had abruptly decided to move from the spot nearby where he’d been most of the evening, which was why she and Cael and Faith had been stationed where they were, though only Faith had been turned so she could see him. He had stepped to the side to avoid someone who inadvertently moved into his path, Jenner turned, and they each stopped short of plowing into the other.