After a while, I feel the car slow down and start to take a few turns. The noise level has decreased outside, so I know we’ve gotten off the highway. A moment later, we hit a speed bump. My mind races to all the places we could possibly be going.
It’s pretty late. I know sometimes there are meetings held at fancy restaurants or even night clubs. They have lots of strip clubs in the States. In movies you always see men doing business in them. Is that where he’s going? It didn’t slip past me that Kazuo hadn’t gotten himself off after we’d fooled around. Not the way he had in the shower earlier in the day. I would have thought he would have needed it more after.
My mind starts to conjure up the worst ideas. What if he’s not into me now that he got a better look at me? He’d even had a taste. I know I’m a bit on the curvy side compared to a lot of girls. I love carbs, but my stepmother hates them, and her body shows it. She fits the cultural standard, and I know she was always ashamed that I never could.
By the time the car finally comes to a stop, I’ve gotten myself all kinds of worked up. I want to pop out of the trunk and yell ‘Busted, jerkoff!’ but is he really busted? Kazuo isn’t mine. I’m not even his. I have no idea who I’m going to belong to if my father has his way.
As much as it kills me, I remain patient and wait as I hear more vehicles pull up. I can hear the doors opening and closing. Then the hum of people talking. I wait until it grows quiet before I finally pull the release on the trunk and pop it open. Carefully I slip out to see we’re at a dock. A handful of other blacked-out cars are parked next to Kazuo’s.
I spin around to see where they’ve all gone. A beautiful white yacht stands in the distance. It’s all lit up. I instantly know what this is. It’s one of those party boat things. Don’t rich men hire supermodels and stuff to come party with them? They take them to these rooms below deck and do unspeakable things.
I clench my fists, thinking about my Kazuo spanking another girl. If I thought I was mad at my father, that was nothing in comparison. I don’t give a crap if I have a claim to Kazuo or not. He shouldn’t be so much as looking at anyone else. I don’t care if it’s illogical and foolish.
I should make a run for it. This is my chance. Instead, I make my way toward the yacht. My anger is in full control of me now. The dock is empty, Kazuo and his men already on the boat, probably starting the party.
I tell myself that I’ll’ just go have a look. See what kind of man Kazuo is. Once I do, then maybe these feelings will go away. Then I can be rid of the fantasies in my head and start making a plan for a real escape.
I slip on the boat easily enough, then head toward the back to try to find some kind of stairs. I should probably look for somewhere to hide until this party gets going. I quickly spot the stairs and make my way down them. I get distracted a few times at the beauty of the yacht. Everything’s so new and clean.
Why didn’t he ask me to go on the yacht with him? I could be a good time. I mean, I’d much rather go in the daytime when we could swim and he could feed me grapes. Maybe even spot a dolphin or something. That sounds amazing. I could dance on a table too if that’s what he wanted.
Hearing someone coming, I slip into one of the bedrooms. All I hear is men, though. No giggling women or music playing so far. I sniff when the smell of gasoline starts to fill the air. The hell? Maybe they're putting gas in before they take off, but damn, it’s strong. The smell starts to become overpowering, and something about this doesn’t seem right. But what do I know about yachts? No one invites me on them.
“Oh God.” I gasp when I see smoke seeping under the door, and an alarm starts to sound. I open the door, trying to escape. Smoke fills the hallway, making it impossible to see and causing me to quickly become disoriented. I do the only thing I can think to do.
I scream for Kazuo.
11
Kazuo
“What was that?” Toru asks as he slings the last gas canister onto the blazing yacht.
My heart has already leapt into my throat as I stop dead. “Mei?”