8 - Doomed

"T-Thank you…" Georgia finally murmured, the words catching in her throat like thorns. She kept her gaze down, twisting her thumbs at the hem of the oversized shirt, her voice barely audible over the pounding guilt in her chest.

Nick let out a loud, theatrical sigh, the kind that screamed disappointment. He made sure it was long enough to sting.

Without a word, he stood, crossed to the dresser, grabbed the bottle of water, and twisted the cap off with a sharp snap. 

As he drank, he locked eyes on Georgia, who looked like she wanted to crawl under the bed and disappear. She fidgeted, her posture tense, her face flushed with shame.

Then, with venom-filled sarcasm, he snatched up his radio and spoke into it.

"Evelyn, you can come in now. The princess is done with her royal tantrums," he said, each word dipped in mockery.

Georgia winced, biting her lip, and turned her back to him, hoping the floor might just open and swallow her whole.

Nick walked back to the sofa, dropping down with a grunt. "You can sit, you know," he said, rolling his eyes. "No need to sentence yourself to standing purgatory."

Georgia moved stiffly and perched on the very edge of the bed, as if afraid it might reject her too. She still wouldn't look at him.

Nick stared at her a moment before cutting straight to the point. "When I pulled you out of the water, you begged me not to tell anyone. Said someone was trying to kill you. Was it Nancy only?"

Georgia's body tensed. Slowly, her head turned, her eyes finally meeting his. The storm between them calmed—just slightly.

"Yes," she whispered. "We were arguing. She pushed me. More than once. I lost my balance. I fell."

Nick's brows drew together, but his tone remained sharp. "What were you arguing about?"

Georgia hesitated, then broke eye contact again, her voice tight. "It's private."

Nick let out a short, humorless laugh. "Private?" he echoed, his voice rising just a notch. "I risked my life, my crew, and my captain's license pulling you out of the goddamn ocean. 

I broke protocol, covered it up, and let you stay here in my cabin, all because you said someone was trying to kill you."

He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. "I don't think 'it's private' cuts it. I think I deserve the full damn story… in detail."

"It's… it's none of your business," Georgia muttered, shrinking into herself. "Just let me get to the next port. I'll leave quietly. No one has to know I was even here."

Nick barked a harsh laugh—louder this time, sharp as a slap. "Are you serious right now? You think I can just sneak you into port like a stray cat and no one will notice? The port authority will grill me. The Coast Guard will question my crew. And for what? A runaway with secrets and zero explanation?"

He stood up abruptly, his voice rising with frustration. "I'm not risking my license, my crew's safety, or my entire goddamn career for someone who won't even tell me the truth. If you don't give me a damn good reason to keep this under wraps, I'd better report this to the port authorities and coast guard."

Georgia's face flushed, her throat tightened. She looked away and gulped hard. The truth was humiliating, but the consequences of silence were worse.

"I—I caught Nancy kissing my drunk fiancé," she confessed, voice trembling. "It happened last night. I was supposed to get married today. This afternoon."

She paused to swallow the lump in her throat. "I called it off right after I saw them. I ran. Nancy chased after me... and the next thing I knew, I was overboard."

Nick blinked. His mouth twitched.

He tried. He really did. But the laugh escaped before he could stop it. It rolled out, mocking and bitter—more about Nancy than Georgia.

"Oh God," he said, shaking his head. "That sounds less like attempted murder and more like a high-society catfight gone overboard."

Georgia glared at him. "It wasn't an accident," she said fiercely, her voice cracking. "Maybe the first push was. But after I fell, she didn't do anything. She just… stood there."

She blinked back tears, her voice shaking. "She didn't scream for help. Didn't throw a rope. Didn't even look panicked. She just… watched. Watched me float away like I was nothing. Then she smirked. Like she meant to let me drown. Then she turned and walked away like it was just another day."

Nick's smile faded.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. Something in her eyes—raw, trembling, real—dug into him. That wasn't the look of someone lying.

Still, doubt lingered. He knew Nancy. She could be reckless, flirty, and shameless. But a killer?

Nick ran a hand through his hair, tension knotting his shoulders.

'She might sleep with half the world… but murder?' he thought.

Not intentionally. At least… not the Nancy he used to know.

Nick crossed his arms, his tone caught somewhere between curiosity and disbelief. "Hmm… So what exactly do you want me to do here? If Nancy intentionally left you to die in the middle of the damn ocean, shouldn't you be reporting her? 

And what about your wedding? Your family? Your friends? Don't you think they're going to notice you vanished?"

Georgia groaned and dragged both hands down her face, then clutched her head like she was seconds from screaming. "God—I don't know, okay?! All I know is I don't want to marry Raymond. I won't. 

But we signed a damn prenuptial agreement, and if I don't go through with the wedding…" she dropped her hands, eyes wide with panic, "I'm doomed."

Nick's brow arched, his suspicion surfacing like a storm cloud. "Wait… Raymond? Raymond Davis? From East West Cruise Line?"

Georgia gave a reluctant nod.

Nick stared at her like she'd just announced she was engaged to a James Bond movie villain. "You're telling me that Raymond Davis is your fiancé?"

The doubt in his voice hit like a punch. Georgia squirmed.

"You were about to marry him?" he asked again, voice filled with disbelief and something else.

Georgia folded her arms, now on the defensive. "Yes. That Raymond Davis."

Nick whistled low and leaned back, hands on his hips. "Well, shit. This just got a whole lot complicated…"