At the next second someone ripped away the black cloth over my head. I gasped for air like someone who had just pulled from drowning, each breath sharp and desperate.
What greeted me was an unfamiliar sight. I was no longer on the ship. Before I stood an island in the middle of the ocean and in the middle, there was a luxurious and exquisitely designed building.
"Behave! Stop gawking!" A sailor next to me raised his hand, as big as a palm frame, swung hard toward my face and landed squarely at my face.
Stars danced before my eyes and the metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. I tried to stay conscious and struggled to open my eyes.
When I finally opened my eyes, I saw the familiar pink swing. It was the very same swing that Travis Nelson had personally designed for me several years ago.
This place turned out to be the same island that Travis promised to give to me. Back then, he’d begged me to accept it, but I had always refused. I never thought I’d end up dragged here today as a prisoner.
What was the connection between Travis and those treacherous sailors?
“Is this Tranquil Island?" I asked.