Page 85 of Wicked Tides
“Get some rest,” Gus interceded, shoving at my shoulder.
I shrugged off my coat and headed for the doors, swiping an almost full bottle of rum from behind the bar on my way. I was in great need of time alone. Before I reached the exit, I turned to David, placing my fists on the table and leaning forward. His eyes met mine like he was a little boy about to get a spanking.
“I don’t care if you hate me,” I said to him. “I hate me. But these girls here just lost someone because Collin wanted to have some wicked fun. You want a job? You look after them because they need us.”
His eyes scanned over the girls once and then returned to me.
“Who are they?”
“Scared, unlucky girls is all. They just want to go home.”
It was a vague answer, but it was all I had for him. Subtly, he nodded and something in my gut said he was being honest. I saw the guilt radiating off of him, and if he truly was like I had been at his age, he was eager to redeem himself.
I slapped my hand against David’s back and then continued to the doors, coat in hand.
“I tried to fight them,” he blurted out, stopping me. “That… woman. She tried to help her. And then they put me in the hold for speaking up. When the ship was taking on water, she got me out. I… why did she do that?”
My eyes lifted to see Gus listening in on every word. He looked just as conflicted as I felt hearing about what Dahlia did.
But I was too damn drained to think about it all just yet. I nodded and continued toward the door, brows furrowed.
“Up the hill and then down again into the valley where the trail narrows,” Thelasa called to me. “The cabin with all the overgrown ferns is where you’ll be staying. Oscar already done it up with sheets. You want a bath, you’ll have to take it in the lake.”
I waved at her over my shoulder, lazily exiting the tavern and making my way along the damp street toward the hills. Port Devlin was a small part of the island. Once I got to the top of the null, I could see the rest of it. Most of the island was groves and fields with a few cabins and houses peppered throughout. They were mostly self-sufficient but traded for warm clothing and food from time to time when winters grew harsh. Descending the hill, I watched a green landscape pass me by. There were tall trees, small streams, and pens full of sheep, and in the distance, I could hear crows cawing as if to mock all of my recent losses.
Farther from the small town, the silence engulfed me. The breeze was there, but it was bearable, even with the biting chill riding it. I reveled in the lonely walk, fighting an onslaught of invading thoughts.
I’d lived with guilt my whole life. I’d always dealt with it by putting a bottle in one hand and my cutlass in the other. If excessive drink and a blade didn’t finish me and I saw morning, then it wasn’t my time because it was beginning to look like nothing else was capable of killing me.
Death had a sick sense of humor. He took the ones who cherished life too soon and spared those who desired to see the end of it.
Rubbing my tired eyes, I noticed the path narrowing just as Thelasa said it would. And as if it appeared out of nowhere, I saw thecabin in an overgrown patch of weeds and ferns. I trudged along, feeling sticky with salt and grime, and came to the door. Not far from the cabin I saw the muted sunlight glinting off the surface of a placid lake. I supposed that was my bath if I found the energy.
But I didn’t have it. Not yet. My mind was too burdened and my body too tired. I lifted the latch on the door and headed inside, finding a pile of wood already stacked by an iron stove.
Oscar’s cabin was full of luxuries I didn’t expect. I would have taken a pile of wool blankets under the stars if it came to it, but instead, I got a bed and a fire.
Immediately, I stacked a few logs with some kindling into the fireplace and ground the fire steel I found sitting on top of it until a spark caught. As the flames grew, I sat back on a thick wooden chair against the wall and released a breath, letting the tension in my muscles trickle away. Across from me was a bed with a wooden headboard made of curved beams. There were two small windows and a small, round table, but otherwise, the cabin was vacant like no one had used it in ages.
I nearly fell to sleep in the chair, letting my thoughts wander to places I’d tried to keep them from for years. Just before I surrendered to rest, I lurched out of the chair, tossed off my boots and my belts, and fell onto the thin mattress on the bed. I didn’t even pull the covers over myself. I just let sleep take me and hoped it wouldn’t be plagued with incessant dreams.
. . .
Gus was very aware of how much my time alone meant. I hadn’t returned to the village and even as the next day passed, I was still in need of solitude to plot our next moves. And to reflect on all that happened and all that had gone wrong the last few days. My decisions had been unlike me since Dahlia reentered my life. The mere fact that she and her sister were still alive was proof of that. My men were taking notice and some were proving less tolerant than others. But thetides were changing and the sons had twisted the normalcy of things into something unpredictable.
It was late in the day when I finally decided to take a dip in the lake. It was going to be cold, but when was I not cold? I took my bottle of rum with me, planning to use it to warm my blood.
I walked over barefoot until I reached the gravely edge of the water. Even just on my toes, it was ice, but the shock would invigorate me. Runoff from the mountains was usually chilly no matter the season. I knew that much. I set my bottle down and sucked in a breath before diving right in. The water was ice on my skin. It took the air out of my lungs, but after a few forced moments of immersion, I relaxed, rinsing my hair and scrubbing at my body with my hands, making sure the salt was being cleaned out of the fibers of my clothes as well. Lastly, I cleaned my throbbing ear, wondering what the damn thing would look like once it healed over.
Once thoroughly cleaned, I grabbed my bottle and waded further down the bank, sipping on the rum to keep that warm feeling in my stomach fresh. I found an outcropping of rocks that made a shallow, crescent-shaped landing. I lifted myself from the water and onto the rocks, finding a place to sit and lean up against some smooth stones. And from there… I simply stared at the calm, quiet waters and the trees swaying on the opposite bank. I watched, I drank, and quieted my thoughts.
Night cloaked the sky and still I sat, my clothes nearly dry and my skin icy, but I barely felt it anymore. It was either I froze or I found something I could destroy and destroying things had caused greater problems in the past.
The moon seemed to grow larger the longer I looked at it, framed by a ring of clouds. The gentle sounds of wind whispering over grass and through trees could have lulled me to sleep if I wasn’t beginning to get stiff against the rocks.
On the ripples danced the blue half-moon like a reflection in a mirror and I watched it. It sat mostly unmoving aside from the flutter of wind that disturbed the water’s surface from time to time.
And then a shape moved beneath and disrupted the perfect image.
