I shivered in anticipation of such a lusciously rough evening ahead. I picked out several more items, including a hand-woven beach bag to carry my purchases around with me. The cashier asked for only my name and I gave Grayson’s instead of my own. She nodded and didn’t ask for anything else before she put my choices into the handbag.
I stopped by several more stores, finding a menswear one at the end of the walkway.
I didn’t know his size, so I wandered a bit absentmindedly through it. At the back, I found a display of belts and I swallowed heavily as I tentatively touched them. The leather was so soft and well-conditioned. I licked my lips.
All of them were handmade.
Without thinking, I closed my eyes and dragged my fingers over them all. When I approached the softest one, I stopped and opened my eyes. It was black leather lined with a gray threading. It looked a bit worn, but that only added to the allure of it. I lifted it off the rack and wound it around my waist, trying to decide if it would fit him or not. I thought it would.
Feeling brave, I went to the counter and smiled at the man at the register. He looked at me curiously, but when I said to put it on my husband’s tab, he cocked his head with even more interest.
“Grayson Asher? Who might you be then?” he asked kindly.
“I’m his wife,” I grinned, proud to be able to say that to someone else for once.
“I’d heard something about him getting married. He’s a lucky man,” he offered, and I nodded my thanks.
“Thank you. The belt is a gift for him,” I said.
“I’m glad to hear it. I stitched this one up myself,” he answered.
“It’s beautiful,” I replied. I wouldn’t tell him that I was secretly hoping that Grayson would like it enough to use it for more than just holding up his pants. The man rolled up the belt and packaged it in several sheets of blue tissue paper. He tied it with a bow and passed it to me to put into the bag over my shoulder.
“Thank you. Have a wonderful day,” I said as I turned away.
“You too, Mrs. Asher,” he replied. I left the shop and glanced back in the window to see the man making a call on his phone. I don’t know why but being in such close quarters with him had unsettled me and I couldn’t put my finger on why. I decided it was time to return to the cabana and see if Grayson had awoken from his afternoon siesta.
I couldn’t wait to show him what I’d found.
I shrugged my bag up on my shoulder and took off toward the beach, allowing my mind to lose itself in fantasies of what the next several days would bring.
A scream caught me off guard. I jerked my head to the side to see a child on the pavement behind the lingerie shop. He looked like he’d fallen and skinned his knee. With a cursory glance, I realized that his parents didn’t appear to be anywhere nearby, so I rushed over to see if he was okay.
“Hey there,” I said quietly, trying not to appear threatening or scary in any way whatsoever. He looked up at me and his eyes watered. “Hey now, it’s okay. Do you live around here?” I asked carefully. He looked like a local rather than a tourist, so I figured it was a decent guess.
He nodded, sniffling back tears.
“I can help you get back home. I bet your mom will get your knee all bandaged up,” I offered.
“You don’t have to do that,” the boy said shakily. He was about seven or eight by my estimation.
“I insist. Here. Take my hand,” I demanded gently, and he reached for me even as a few stray tears dripped from his chin. “Where’s home?”
“About five minutes down the path there,” he replied. Behind the shops lining the port, there was a dense jungle, but it looked like a well-worn dirt path cut through some of it.
“Come on now. Let’s get you home,” I said, taking the boy’s small hand in mine. We walked down the path together. Once I was surrounded by the trees, I looked around. It was quiet, the only audible sounds coming from the bar not far away. When we got deep enough into the jungle, the bar faded away and the songs of birds grew loud around us. He kept my hand within his own the whole way.
“How much further?” I asked.
“Just around the corner,” he said.
I looked back down the path, feeling apprehensive for some reason. There was no one behind us though and I tried to shrug it off. We continued a bit further and I paused as we turned the bend, sighing with relief when a small house came into view. It was nicer than I expected. It wasn’t very big, but it was covered in clean creamy white stucco that made it stand out amongst the trees. I approached the bright red front door with the boy, and it swung open. There was a petite woman behind it. She smiled warmly, but her lips were tight and when her gaze flicked nervously over my shoulder, that uneasy feeling from before surged back with dizzying force.
“Come on inside, Emilio. Let me take care of that knee,” she said shakily. Her eyes widened and I released the boy’s hand to turn around only to catch a glimpse of a group of men. I screamed before the sound was quickly cut off by a piece of coarse fabric shoved between my lips. I tried to run, but their arms grasped at me, and a black hood covered my head, cutting off my sight completely.
I fought with everything in me, but I was quickly overpowered. There were at least a half a dozen men surrounding me, all locals by the looks of it. I kicked and I punched, but they swiftly bound my wrists and ankles until I couldn’t move anymore. Something knocked me in the back of the head really hard and I swore I saw stars.
I tried to hold onto consciousness, but someone forced a wet cloth over my nose. The hood material got wet, and I whimpered. The scent of it was sickly sweet, like flowers maybe, and everything went black.