Page 47 of Crossbones
I flash him a grin as I shove my hands in my pockets. “Not at all, Captain.”
I know he doesn’t believe me, especially with how I just stormed out from his cabin without an explanation. Van’s shoulders have drooped, and he looks so sad I almost feel sorry for him. But I can’t bring myself to tell Blackwell about what happened in that place. It’s too raw, too vulnerable. I shove the past away viciously—willing it to stay in the box I’d put it in. I’ll keep my head down in Ironhold and everything will be fine.
“I’m starving,” I throw an arm around Van, watching Blackwell. “Let’s go grab lunch.”
Sure enough, his jaw tightens and his eyes grow dark.
So, the Captain doesn’t like it when I touch other men—interesting. I lead Van towards the door below deck, winking at Blackwell as we pass by, and unable to stop the smirk from sliding into place.
Even though I drag Van to the mess, I’m not hungry. There’s no way I can eat with Ironhold looming over me, growing closer and closer with every league. I push my food around, plunging deeper into the past.
The lashes rained down like liquid fire on my back. The burn sent needles across my skin, slicing through my attempt to disappear from my reality. Each time was worse than the one before—it’s like he was getting angrier at me. I don’t know why. The only thing keeping me somewhat lucid is the fact that he has my sister, and I told her I’d keep her safe from monsters—
“Fucking hell,” Van mutters. “If you’re going to insist on going to shore, will you at least pretend everything is okay?”
When I don’t answer, Van slams his fist down on the table. My head jerks up and I look around, thankful there’s only a few other people in here. I turn my glare on Van.
“Knock it off,” I growl. “Just drop it.”
“Are you even going to address what could go wrong?”
“I mean it, Van,” I say through gritted teeth.
“You should stay on the ship,” Van whispers harshly.
“I told you that’s not happening,” I snap.
“Why?” Van’s hands are shaking. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because I’m not going to let him have any more control over me.” I say it calmly, but inside I’m anything but. I’ve spent a lot of time pushing those memories away. I’ve spent even more time trying to figure out ways for them not to define me.
Van runs both hands over his face and shoves away from the table.
“You know this is a bad idea,” Van insists, leaning over towards me. “This is a very, very bad idea.”
“So you’ve said.”
Van gives me one last look filled with both trepidation and fear before scowling and leaving the mess in irritation.
I get up from the table, food mostly untouched.
“I thought you were hungry.”
I look over to see Blackwell in the doorway. I shrug, fixing my usual half smile on my face.
“You always care this much about your crews’ eating habits, Captain?”
I brush past him and move into the hallway. I can feel his presence behind me, and chills race across my skin at his proximity.
“What’s in Ironhold?”
I don’t answer.
“You’re scared—”
I round on him so fast he nearly runs into me in his haste to stop. I slam my forearm against his chest and shove him against the wall.
“I’m not afraid,” I snarl in his face.
