Page 113 of Caging Darling

“Did you tell Astor?” I whisper, the simple question being as much as the bargain allows.

To my dismay, Charlie shakes her head. “No. No, you told me about the bargain in confidence. I figured if it was something you’d wanted the captain to know, you would have told him yourself. I didn’t want to break that confidence unless I had to. Besides, the captain was already so sick with worry as it was. And we couldn’t find you. Couldn’t fix it. I was worried that if he knew Peter had an unclaimed bargain over you…” She bites her lip and swallows. “I should have told him. I’m so sorry, Winds.”

Once again, Charlie lifts my sleeve. This time, she presses her thumb against the center link of the bargain. “Still. This is why you defend him, isn’t it?”

I smile at her sadly, and she sighs. “We’ll fix this, Winds. The captain, Maddox, and I. We’ll fix it.”

Even Peter’s bargain can’t stop the silent tears from streaming down my cheeks. Elation fills my heart.

Charlie’s going to tell him. She’s going to tell Astor that Peter has me bound. He’s been around me enough the past few days to put two and two together.

It seems too good to be true.

Perhaps that’s why I’m not surprised when there’s a knock on the door.

A moment later, and the Nomad steps in. “There’s been a development with your assignment,” he says to Charlie by way of greeting. “My scouts tracked down the merchant we discussed earlier. My first mate will be personally escorting you to the meeting.”

Charlie nods, squeezing my hand one last time before slipping off the bed. “I’ll grab my bag then be on my way.”

The Nomad crosses his arms. “I’ve already arranged for your bags to be moved for you.”

“Alright,” says Charlie, “I’ll just…”

“Follow my first mate, who is out in the hall waiting for you, to the ship I’ve prepared,” says the Nomad. “Unless you’ve forgotten the importance of this assignment and how we’ve already lost this merchant once by delaying.”

Unease fills my gut. Charlie turns to me and swallows, a silent apology in her eyes.

Any hope of Astor discovering my bargain with Peter deflates.

“I’ll hurry back,” she whispers, her gaze earnest.

Something tells me it won’t matter.

I don’t sleepthat night.

How can I, when the only picture in my head is of Astor, veins in his chest withered and bulging as he crawls across the floor, sweating profusely, hardly able to catch his breath?

Crawling to me.

It’s such a painful vision, but the kind of pain I could drink to the dregs then beg for more. I replay it in my mind as I stare at the Nomad’s ceiling, my heart reaching out for the man I wounded.

The man who still crawled to me, unable to prop himself up on the hand I severed.

My whole body is shaking, no matter how many of the Nomad’s blankets I pile on top of myself. But I’m not shaking from the cold, anyway.

When I decide attempting to sleep is of no use, I grab Charlie’s notebook from the bedside table and start flipping through her letters.

Winds,

I thought of you today. I think of you every day, but today was especially difficult. It’s been a year since we lost you. I wonder if wherever you are, you’re thinking the same thing. I keep telling myself that if I just picture you in my mind hard enough, you’ll hear my thoughts, feel somewhere deep within your soul that you’re not forgotten.

I’m not sure it’s working.

Charlie

I let outthe smallest of gasps, thinking of the girl weeping in a dank bathroom with her back to a musty wall. A girl who believed no one was coming for her.

Had Charlie been writing this letter at that very moment?

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