Page 60 of Crossbones
Van holds up his hands. “No—no, whatever you’re going to ask me to do, I don’t want any part of it. Unless it involves another few days in bed—then, andonlythen,maybeI can be persuaded.”
Caspian chews on his bottom lip. “Fine—fine, give us a minute?”
Van glares at Caspian like he doesn’t believe him but eventually he storms out, nearly slamming the door behind him. Once he’s gone, Caspian sits on the edge of the desk and meets my eyes.
“He cares a lot for you,” I say.
Caspian runs a hand over his face. “I know. He was around—the first time.”
“I gathered as much.”
The silence stretches as we stare at each other. I wait him out, attempting to have some semblance of patience.
“Why didn’t you leave?” he asks bluntly.
“What?”
Caspian folds his arms loosely across his chest and shrugs. “You could have left me with Malik.”
“Why would I have done that?” I ask in irritation.
He smiles a smile that’s borderline condescending. “Did you forget? You have the coordinates now, Captain. You could have had someone else do your dirty work and been rid of me.”
I scowl, irrationally angry at his words. I stand up and a single step brings me into his personal space.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead and as I’ve told you before, I’ll get blood on my own hands doing it,” I growl. “Although, I think I’ve gotten enough of your blood on my hands these last three days to earn the truth from you. Stop avoiding the topic.”
Caspian has the grace to look sheepish, a ridiculous expression on him, but also slightly endearing. He’s gripping the edge of the desk and I watch his eyes drop to my lips. I’m conscious of how close we are and quickly step to the side, grabbing the bottle of rum and clearing my throat. I pour him a glass and shove it at him. My fingers brush his as he takes it and our eyes lock. I refuse to get distracted.
“Start talking, Caspian.”
“Fuck—” he mutters.
His eyes are filled with a volatile combination of pain and bitterness.
“I was on a return voyage with my mother and younger sister. We’d been visiting my mother’s family in Talmage. Our ship was taken by Malik. At the time we had a feud going on with Ralta. We were held for ransom and while my father was quick to come to a resolution, it wasn’t fast enough to save my sister. Malik—” He looks down, his voice breaking. “Malik and his men did terrible things to her. I had to watch while they didit—”
His hand is shaking as he pauses to bring the glass up to his lips. My own knuckles are white around mine.
“I watched them murder her,” he continues, his voice hoarse with emotion. “My mother was returned home—but she didn’t survive the journey—a fact I didn’t find out until much later.” He looks up from his glass and meets my gaze. There’s a hesitation there, as though what he’s going to tell me will somehow impact my opinion of him.
Shame, fear, anger—I watch it all cross his face.
“Malik kept me as collateral against retaliation. I spent a year there—here, in that fort—” He looks back down at the rum. “It was hell. Abuse, obsession…he broke me—over and over again.” His voice falters and he pauses. “My memory of that time only really comes with clarity in my nightmares and I don’t remember escaping. The next really clear memory I have, I’m on a ship, about to dock in De’Vero.” There’s a deep pain in his eyes when he meets mine again. “I returned home to find my mother dead a year—my family was never the same after that. My father lost himself in his grief that eventually manifested into illness, and my brother embraced his anger and channeled it into cruelty because he blamed me for all of it.” He downs the rest of his rum and turns, setting the glass on the wood.
I’ve decided there isn’t a level of hell deep enough for Malik, and I wish I’d lingered longer in that fort to give him the death he deserves—slow, painful and full of retribution. I sense Caspian fidgeting next to me and I realize he’s waiting to see what I’ll say. The intimacy between us catches me off guard.
When did this happen?
Was itGreystonewhen he was on his knees for me? Was it in the cellar of Malik’s fort—sharing secrets in the dark? Was it when he grabbed onto me like I was his port in the raging storm? I’m far from what could be considered salvation but right now, I wonder when he started to mean something to me, and when I decided not to let go.
“Look at me.” My voice is low, but firm.
Caspian hesitates only marginally before those blues hit mine.Yeah, I’m fucked.The openness on his face right now is doing questionable things in the vicinity of where my heart should be in my chest, but that’s weird because last I checked I didn’thaveone.
Is that what the constant tugging is about?
“Don’t ever feel shame for what you had to endure to survive,” I say.
