Chapter 1 - The Locked Door
The charming man I had married disappeared the second the lock clicked behind us.
Gregory walked past me without saying another word.
He opened the bedroom closet.
Then he reached behind a row of garment bags and pulled out an aluminum baseball bat.
For one second, I honestly thought it was some strange wedding joke.
Then he wrapped both hands around the handle.
“This is how my dad kept my mom in line,” he said with a grin.
Every muscle in my body went still.
Not frozen.
Ready.
Military training does something strange to fear.
You still feel it.
You simply learn how to place it somewhere that cannot interfere with your hands.
“Put the bat down, Gregory.”
He laughed.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“The woman underneath all those pretty dresses.”
He stepped closer.
“I always wondered whether those stories about your military days were exaggerated.”
I slowly removed my heels.
His smile faltered.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure I don’t slip.”
That was the first moment uncertainty appeared in his eyes.
He raised the bat.
I moved.
My left hand redirected his wrists.
My shoulder turned.
My hip shifted beneath his center of gravity.
Three seconds later, the bat was in my hands and Gregory was stumbling backward into the sofa.
I did not hit him.
That mattered.
Because somewhere in the back of my mind, I already understood that this would eventually become a question of evidence.
Gregory stared at me.
His face had gone completely white.
I held the bat loosely at my side.
“You ever come at me with a weapon again, and this marriage ends before we reach the first port.”
His shock lasted only a moment.
Then something darker replaced it.
He smiled.
“You think you won?”
I heard a soft electronic beep behind me.
The cabin door had just locked again.
Gregory straightened his shirt.
“You’re on my ship now, sweetheart.”
I glanced toward the door.
Then toward the ocean beyond the balcony.
“What did you do?”
He reached into his pocket and held up his phone.
“I had your access privileges changed.”
My stomach tightened.
“You can’t trap me in here.”
“I can do anything I want.”
“No.”
I rested the baseball bat against the wall.
“You can try.”
Gregory walked toward the minibar and poured himself bourbon with trembling fingers.
“You’re going to apologize.”
“For what?”
“For humiliating me.”
“You tried to attack me with a bat.”
“And you embarrassed your husband.”
That sentence told me everything.
Not enough to understand the entire danger.
Enough to know the fairy tale was dead.
I walked into the bathroom and locked the door.
Then I pulled my phone from my purse.
No service.
The ship’s Wi-Fi showed connected, but every messaging application failed.
Gregory had arranged that too.
I stared at my reflection.
White wedding manicure.
Diamond ring.
Designer honeymoon dress.
And eyes I had not seen since leaving the Marines.
I opened the small emergency sewing kit beside the sink.
Inside was a safety pin.
I used it to remove the SIM tray from my phone.
Then I stared at the tiny secondary SIM card hidden beneath my primary one.
An old habit.
One Gregory knew nothing about.
I activated it.
Three bars appeared.
I opened a secure messaging application and typed five words to the one person who would understand immediately.
NAOMI. CONDITION RED. I’M TRAPPED.
The reply came eleven seconds later.
SEND LOCATION. SAY NOTHING ELSE.
I shared my coordinates.
Then another message appeared.
ASHLYNN, THERE’S SOMETHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT GREGORY HARTMAN.
I stared at the screen.
Before I could answer, Gregory knocked softly against the bathroom door.
“Ashlynn?”
His voice was gentle again.
Perfectly gentle.
“I think we should talk about what happened.”
Then Naomi sent the second message.
May you like
YOU ARE NOT THE FIRST WOMAN.
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