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Jo was warm and comfortable, sheltered in the harbor of Nick’s arms.  Slowly, she realized that she was a little closer to him than platonic circumstances called for.  Her butt was pressed into his crotch.  It was…comfortable…and it was …impressive.  Jo thought about moving away, but instead, she pressed back against him.  Nick gave a soft moan and became even more impressive.

Suddenly, Jo heard the hatchcover rattle.  It was Pete.  And he had an axe.

“Jo.”

She screamed and thrashed about under the covers.

Nick put his hand over her mouth.  “Jo, stop it.  Wake up.” 

Jo opened her eyes.  Nick was perched on the edge of the bed, one arm outstretched away from her, trying not to spill the contents of the mug he held there.

“Sorry,” mumbled Jo through his fingers.  Wow! she thought.  Now that was an interesting dream!  She could feel herself blushing.

Nick attributed the redness of Jo’s face to his hand, and he removed it from her mouth.

“Coffee?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” replied Jo, “but bathroom first.”

“Okay,” said Nick, “I’ll meet you in the galley.”  As he stood up from the bed, he had a glimpse of long, slim legs.  Very nice, he thought.

Jo went to the bathroom and then washed her face.  She saw that Nick had provided a toothbrush and toothpaste for her.  She was grateful for that.  She hadn’t brought anything but clothes with her last night in her desperate bid for freedom. 

Jo stared at herself in the mirror.  Okay, get it together, she told herself.  You have one chance to tell your story, and if you don’t make it a convincing one, you will find yourself standing alone on a dock with no protection.

Jo came out into the hall and picked up the pile of clothes.

“What’s that?” asked Nick, from the galley.

“My clothes,” replied Jo.

“I know that,” said Nick.  “I just wondered what all you’d brought.  Last night, you seemed kind of…bulky.”

“I just threw on whatever I could grab,” said Jo.  “I wasn’t thinking too clearly.”  She laughed.  “I was smart about some things, though.  Check this out.” 

Jo reached into the pocket of a pair of shorts and pulled out some underwear.  The second pocket revealed a second pair of panties.  She picked up some capris and emptied the pockets of them.

“I like that one,” said Nick, as Jo held up a lacy, red thong.

The atmosphere was getting too sexually charged for them both, and Jo retreated to the guest bedroom to get dressed.  She came out a few minutes later, wearing shorts and a t-shirt.

“Okay, your turn,” she said.

Nick was dressed in sweatpants and the t-shirt he’d worn the day before.  “Aren’t you glad I hang my clothes up on the floor?” he asked.  “Otherwise, I might have wakened you this morning when I got up.  The closet door squeaks a little.”

Jo smiled and thought of the dream she was having.  She could feel the heat rising to her face again.  “Okay, coffee,” she said.

Nick motioned at a mug sitting on the table.  Then he squeezed by her to go back to his room.  They didn’t actually touch, but they were close enough that electricity flowed between them.

Jo sat down on the bench of the dining nook and drank her coffee.  She looked around the boat. 

Must be nice to be rich.

Jo remembered Pete saying that when he’d come back from his visit to Nick the first night.  He’d told Jo every detail of the Lenore.  There was a bit of an edge to his voice, as if Pete didn’t think Nick deserved the boat.  Or at least, that Pete did.  Jo knew that Pete pretended that the Sunset Voyager was his boat.  He’d told the truth to Nick about it, but Jo had heard him pretend to some of the marina operators that it was his personal property.  It was the way Pete did things. 

Must be nice to be rich.

Hell, yeah.  Jo bet it was nice.  And everyone knew that Nick loved boats and loved the water, so buying the Lenore made perfect sense for him.

Well, mused Jo, maybe not everyone knew that, but everyone who was a fan did.

Jo was a fan.

She’d been a fan of the group and the music since the very beginning.  She and Mickey had spent hours wrangling over who was the best singer, the best dancer, the cutest…they bought all the fan magazines and had the latest posters all over their walls during high school. 

Mickey was a die-hard Nick fan, had been from the very beginning.  As far as she was concerned, the other four were just his backup singers.

Jo was a Brian girl.  At least, she had been right up to the moment where she laid her eyes on Nick five days ago. Before that, she had thought he was shallow and childish.  Now she saw that he was mature and kind.

The other three guys didn’t even exist for the two girls.  AJ had the best voice, they all agreed on that, but he was a little too far out there for Mickey and Jo.  And besides he was losing his hair.  Mickey didn’t comment on Brian’s hairstyle which was obviously a combover covering a receding hairline.  In return, Jo kept her thoughts about Nick’s weight to herself.

Howie and Kevin were sweet and gorgeous and invisible to them.  Others could have the dark side.  Mickey and Jo were content in Blond Land. 

Mickey.

Suddenly, tears formed at the corners of Jo’s eyes.  She knew in her heart of hearts that Mickey was gone.  She didn’t want it to be true.  She wanted to be wrong.  She wanted to be more wrong about this than she’d been about anything in her life.  But she wasn’t.  She knew it.

Nick watched Jo from the doorway, saying nothing.  It was obvious Jo had some serious emotional shit going on, and he didn’t want to disturb her.  He didn’t like seeing women cry, though.  Fans he didn’t mind.  They cried all the time.  That was no big deal.  But Nick didn’t like seeing ‘his women’ cry.  Not that Jo was his woman or anything, but… Nick didn’t like to see any woman cry…because it made him want to cry too.

Nick hated it when he had to be the mature one, the grown-up.  He didn’t feel either grown up or mature.  He was a kid at heart.  He knew in this situation, though, that he was definitely going to have to be the grown-up.  It wasn’t a comfortable sensation.  Nick wanted to grab his cell phone and call the police.  He wanted to hand Jo over and sail away. 

But he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t for two reasons.  One reason was himself, and the other reason was the group.  For himself, he couldn’t just leave Jo on her own.  She might be in danger, or she might be insane.  Either way, she shouldn’t be left on her own.  And Nick wanted to find out the answers.  He wanted to know how a guy who seemed as nice as Pete could be the murdering monster Jo thought he was.

As for the group, Nick didn’t want any bad publicity.  They were gearing up for a summer tour, launching an album, getting back out there.  It was going to be hard enough to deal with the stupid questions about AJ’s rehab and Nick’s affair with Paris.  They sure didn’t need any other complications.

So he was going to see this situation through at least one more day. 

Jo noticed Nick watching her.  She brushed at the tears with the back of her hand.  She almost said, ‘hormones’, her usual excuse for sudden emotional outbursts.  Just in time, she remembered his interpretation of that the last time, and she swallowed the word.  She hadn’t stuffed any of ‘those supplies’ into her pockets, and it was a path she didn’t think either of them wanted to take right now.

“Sorry,” was all she said.

“Would you like some breakfast?” asked Nick to cover the awkward moment.  “I have cereal…and bread…we could make toast…”

“No, thanks,” said Jo, “I couldn’t eat right now.  I’d just throw up.”  She paused.  “I mean, like, that I would throw up from the tension…not because I’d want to…or because of any other reason either…I mean, I just wouldn’t be able to keep food down…because of the emotional stress…I don’t think I could even swallow…”

The harder Jo tried to explain, the worse she made it.  She knew she sounded like a lunatic, an anorexic one at that, but she couldn’t seem to make herself stop babbling.

“Shut up,” said Nick, with a grin.

Jo pressed her lips together, holding the torrent of idiocy in her mouth.  She stared at Nick, wide-eyed until the words evaporated.

Nick grinned at her again.  “So I’m guessing a bagel is out of the question.”

Jo laughed.  “Thank you, no.  Maybe later.”

Later.

The word hung between them.

Nick fiddled around with the coffee maker.  He waved the pot in Jo’s direction.  She shook her head, so Nick turned it off.  He poured some more coffee into his mug, and then he dumped the rest down the sink.  He gave the pot a quick rinse and set it back on the element.

Jo watched him nervously.  It was daylight.  She had said things would look better by daylight.  That was true in the fact that they were no longer huddled together in fear for their lives.  But it didn’t make her situation look any brighter.  Somehow, they had to get away from Pete.  Somehow, she had to convince both Nick and herself that she knew what she was talking about.  Somehow, there had to be a plan.

“So what’s the plan?” she asked.