The Beginning of Chapter Two

Violet crossed her legs and leaned back, watching the men on the boat moving about and eyeing her. She sipped her drink, pretending not to notice their constant glances. At her legs. At her breasts. Her hair, a shaggy sun-bleached unbrushed mop. Her skin the color of wet sand. Her lips a parched reddish brown. She was skinny almost to an anorexic fault. She gazed out at the sea in a dreamy way, but all the while knowing they all wanted to fuck her. She was in the company of dangerous men. But she had a good grip on it. Men and their dicks are no match here.

In her hand bag were the essentials. Lipstick, a couple of condoms, a passport, a chrome-plated revolver with a pearl handle, and an envelope full of money. She was ready to pull from her purse, whatever the situation required. Balthazaar had thought of everything. Still her pulse was rapid. The adrenaline of knowing this is the real deal.

He sat down next to her. "A sweet air mixed with salt, eh?" he said, inhaling the sea air. Violet turned to look at his pretentious face. "Do you have something for me, or not?" she said, in a seductive voice. He placed a hand lightly on her knee and began to slide it up under her dress. She brushed it aside. "I am talking about business here, not pleasure." "You drive a hard bargain, Miss....?" "Miss Nobody to you." she said boldly, her hand already dipping into her purse for better or worse. "Yes, of course, I am a man of my word." he said, fumbling in his pocket. Violet's fingers curled around the gun in her purse as she watched him. He produced a small cloth bag and emptied it into his palm. "Is this what you are looking for, perhaps?" The snarl on his lips as he said it, made her want to kill him on the spot. Instead, she just nodded. She let go of the gun and fumbled for the envelope. He poured the stones into her palm. She closed her fingers around them. She handed him the envelope. Now, it was just a matter of getting home alive.

She sat on her berth below deck with the door locked, and patiently sewed the stones into the hem of her dress, then laid back with an exhausted sense of accomplishment.
These stones, if moved as planned, would create a small fortune. She and Balthazaar could live care free. Her mother too. In her sleep she felt as though a cold hand was moving over her body. It felt pleasant at first, but then more insistent. Squeezing. tugging at her. She awoke abruptly to find a man on top of her, between her legs. Pulling down his pants. She screamed and yanked his head, both hands full of thick and greasy hair. His fist came up, it was the last thing she remembered.