Page 20 of Drowning in Sins
This idea was really fucking stupid. My psychologist recommended I go through my mother’s things—what was left of them anyway.
Chills ran up my spine, causing the hair on my arms to lift as the tune filtered through the room. I’d forgotten it was even in this box. I didn’t remember what all was inside the old file box besides some photos I didn’t have the heart to burn at the time.
I was angry as a boy, taking it out on anyone and everything. Not much changed over the years. With the exception of thePirate Kings, who helped me focus my anger and take it out on those more deserving of it.
My mother’s jewelry box had slipped from my hands and rolled a couple of feet away, opening along its path to play a tune that took me back. I couldn’t remember the words, but I remembered the way my parents waltzed in the living room to it.
I would open it when I was little just to watch them. As if it were a way to freeze time and have precious moments. Occasionally, Mom would make me dance with her.
I haven’t danced since.
It had been my mother’s favorite song, no idea why. I remember her loving that animated movie about the missing princess from that royal Russian family. My eyes followed the dancing couple on their side, spinning slowly to the tune.
I hesitated to go toward it. As if the song put me in a trance, I couldn’t pick it up until it came to an end and the couple stopped twirling in the center. After a deep inhale and exhale, I carefully picked up the old music box.
The cold metal on the outside had rusted slightly, while the red velvet interior seemed to be untouched by the elements. I swallowed, closed the lid, and placed it back in the box.
Maybe another day would be easier. The psychologist wanted me to push through some memories when I woke from the nightmares. Easier said than done.
They were getting worse, the nightmares. Most days, it seemed easier to not sleep than be forced to wake up in the tremors of reliving that day.
I slipped the lid back on the box and carried it back to the closet. I couldn’t do it, not today. Another day, when I didn’t have somewhere to be.
I was both ready and not ready to get back on the boat. There was the tiny sliver inside me, buried deep, that missed thewater. That was nothing compared to the sliver of fear at the remembrance of the fins and tentacles from that day.
It didn’t take me long to repack a bag, shower, and head back to the docks. I was stomping up the ramp and ignoring everyone as I walked across the deck. Until I saw her.
Rosalyn was chatting with Kai in a way that made them seem too familiar with one another. I didn’t like it. The way she smiled and laughed at something he said. How he moved his hand through his hair and flexed his muscles at her in a way meant to be discreet.
Asshole.
I waited for her eyes to meet mine a moment longer, and when they finally did, I turned and walked to the lower deck to drop off my bag. I wasn’t hopeful she would follow. Kai would hold her attention a little longer, unfortunately.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I squeezed the strap of my bag and ignored it until I was down the steps and in my room. Hidden away from everyone. I knew it would be Pirate King business. It was the whole reason I was back on this boat.
Walter: You need to get closer.
Me: I know.
Walter: Don’t fall for their tricks.
I groanedas I sat back on the bed, kicking my bag with my feet. It was the same conversation we had over the weekend when they wanted an update on this trip. The truth was I hadn’t found out anything about the research team or the company.
I wanted to keep them at arm’s length because ofher. There was no ignoring the way my brother was with her—something happened. It pissed me the fuck off.
If the club wanted me to get friendly with all of them, I could do it. Men like the brothers who ran the Jones Maritime Collective would brag when given the opportunity. I’d met men like that plenty of times. Get a couple of drinks in them and sit back and let them impress you. They craved the attention.
Me: It might get messy.
Walter: Whatever is needed.
Me: Okay.
The bigger concernwas my brother. If I didn’t play it just right, he would know something was up. I had to seem like I’d changed or was about to. It needed to feel real to him that I was opening up, as if I missed his friendship.
He liked to play games when we were younger. Now, it was my turn.
Chapter Nineteen
