Page 40 of Crossbones
“Are you with me or not, Harrison?” I press impatiently. “We don’t have time to argue the finer points of dishonesty.”
“You hate liars,” Harrison snaps. “And what about your plan to bring down House De’Vero? Now that we know he’s not only a De’Vero noble but a fucking prince, it gives us even more reason to see him dead.”
“That is on hold.”
Harrison’s hands slam onto his hips. He turns and takes a few steps away in the sand, then comes back.
“He’s completely fucked with your head,” he growls. “He’s a liar and a De’Vero and for those two sins alone he should be six feet under. I don’t understand why—”
“Think about the gold,” I interrupt in irritation.
“Gold that we don’t even know is real or not!” Harrison whisper shouts.
I growl low in my throat, done with his tantrum. “Enough—you’re either in or you’re out, Harrison. Let me handle the prince and if the treasure doesn’t exist—”
“If the treasure doesn’t exist,” he interrupts fiercely. “I’m going to kill him myself and I don’t give a fuck what your orders are.”
Our eyes clash with frustration. There’s a strain on our relationship that hasn’t been there before. I don’t want to think about the disaster this will be if the treasure doesn’t exist—which is a very likely scenario—but one I’ll deal with later. Hopefully much later. I turn abruptly, dismissing him and earning a low curse, but as I climb into the rowboat to head to the ship, Harrison joins me and I know at least for now, I have him.
After greeting my very relieved crew, I head below deck. I step through the door into my cabin and there’s Caspian, lounging behind my desk,boots up on the worn wood and that infuriating smirk on his smug face. In two strides I’m on him, my dagger presses against his throat before he can speak.
“I’m only going to say this once. Out here, you answer to me. This ismyship,mycrew—we do thismyway or so help me God, I will bury this blade in your throat right now and be done with you. Understood?”
Caspian’s eyes sharpen. He wraps his hand around the blade at his throat—theactualblade—and slowly gets to his feet. He pushes it away, not seeming to care he’s cutting himself. The smell of blood permeates the air between us.
“I’d hoped by now you’d realize it will take a little more than blood on a blade to scare me into submission.”
The time he licked my knife barrels into my head violently. I shove it back.
“Do not fuck with me,” I snarl.
“Setting boundaries already, Captain?” He mocks. An absolutely wicked smile curls his lips. “A shame—I was looking forward to getting to know you from the other side of the bars this time.”
“I’m not the one hiding who I am.” He tilts his head at me in a silent question. “Tell me—are you more prince or pirate?”
“Do I have to claim either?”
“Yes, because how does a man know who he is when he’s so many things at once?”
“That’s just it.” Caspian leans in. “You know the best part about being out at sea, Captain? The sea needs no names—only truths.” He pulls back enough to meet my eyes. “The tide commands me, the horizon calls to me—but neither requires me to be anything other than a man of salt and sin.”
My lips twitch in an almost sneer. “That may be true—But that’s notyourtruth.”
The barest ripple threatens his calm control. He releases the blade and steps back, perching on the edge of the desk at a more comfortable distance. He crosses his arms over his chest, telling me he put this space between us because I hit a nerve.
“I ripped through your carefully crafted mask once. I’ve seen the cracks—” I growl. “And you can try and hide behind your polished charm and your clever tongue, and that might be enough for the sea, but don’t confuse that with your truth. You’re more than just salt and sin.”
I think I’ve shocked him again because his face is carefully blank. In fact, I can’t read him at all. Where usually he has his carefree noble act front and center, now he has nothing. Nothing except a burning fire in his eyes he can’t seem to put out.
“You don’t know what I am.” His voice is low, even, and has an edge.I latch onto it, my blood racing.
“Maybe—but maybe you don’t know either.” I sneer. “You’ve buried the real you beneath duty, performance—acting like you don’t care. Then you dress up pretty words and call it freedom because what…it’s simpler?” I look him up and down with borderline contempt. “All while you’re bleeding under that smile.” I shake my head. “No—you’re more than you seem and I don’t know who you’re trying to fool more, yourself or everyone else.”
Caspian’s mouth twitches and the fire flares in his eyes. I watch his jaw clench, like he’s trying hard not to let me see how much my truth is hitting home. But I’m so drawn to him, I can feel his energy—the rage and tension of whatever the fuck this is between us. It’s truly intoxicating.
“Why do you care?” Healmostsounds petulant except there’s a ring of truth that tells me he’s not being bratty—this time. This time I’ve hit something vulnerable and he’s trying to keep me away.
“Because I’m not fond of liars, especially the kind that have done it for so long that they begin to believe it.”
