CASPIAN
The slam of the hatch as Blackwell leaves traps the thick tension of things unsaid down in the hold.
I stare at the stairs, exhaling slowly, attempting to get myself back under control.
He caught me off guard and it won’t happen again.
I flex my knuckles, blood smeared and sore from the few hits he let me land.
Because there’s no doubt in my mind he’d been looking for a fight.
I drag my shirt back up over my shoulder, hiding the evidence of my failure and the source of my nightmares.
Who did you fail?
Fuck him. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the bars. I take another deep breath, but it does nothing to the wound Blackwell reopened and crawled his way into—bringing with him the burn of salt, rage and something else. Something with edges just as sharp.
Who did you fail?
I should have laughed it off—deflected with a joke, a sarcastic remark and my usual smirk—but the precision of Blackwell’s observation had been staggering.
The bastard had taken one look at my scars and without hesitation cut me down to the bone.
To make it worse, I flinched—further opening the damn door for him.
Yeah, I shouldn’t have gone after him, but maybe I’d needed the fight too.
Except for one electrifying moment, when we were chest to chest, fists locked, breath colliding—it hadn’t felt like a fight.
The heat, the chaos—the volatile anger—while I can say I hate him, I can’t quite bring myself to say I hate whatever has been ripped open between us.
I can’t deny this is the most alive I’ve ever felt, the closest to ruin I’ve ever come.
His hate is a mirror to everything I am that I’m ashamed of—my name, my family, my failure.
I want him to cut all the rot away with his violence until I rise from the bloody ruin as something new.
I run my hands through the damp strands of my hair and take another deep breath. This just got way more dangerous than only hiding a title. I slipped, lost control and let Blackwell see too much, learn too much—and now what…I’m attracted to him?
Fuck . I’m treading in deep water now because teasing and taunting to get a rise is one thing, it’s easy to redirect and hide behind my carefully constructed smokescreen—but actually being attracted to him is something else entirely.
Still, I have time to recover from this.
Controlling the narrative is what I’m good at after all.
I mastered the mask long ago and I just need to not let Blackwell catch me off guard again.
He’ll only learn who I am if I want him to know.
Next time he comes down here, he’ll find the same charming, nonchalant and enigmatic man he first met.
He’ll wonder just like before what is real and what is fabricated.
He’ll be left with more questions than answers so that when the time comes to ransom me or kill me, the decision won’t be an easy one.
All I need him to do is hesitate.
Confidence in myself restored, I realize the ship has started to pitch and rock violently which can only mean one thing: we’re about to sail into a storm.
I settle in a corner and grip the bars to anchor myself, listening to the creaking and groaning of the ship around me.
I’m not necessarily concerned about the sounds, but I’m absolutely concerned about the rising water level that is quickly becoming a noticeable problem.
Fear washes through me for the first time since being captured.
If the hold fills with water, or if enough damage is done to the ship, I could be in real trouble.
Things escalate at a rapid pace as storms tend to do and a particularly hard swell hits us broadside so hard I’m thrown forward into the bars.
I hear a loud crack and several holes appear in the hull—spilling water into the hold.
The water level is rising fast now—it’s at my shins.
I hear the trap door open, the wind momentarily filling the space with a wild howl before one of the two men on the steps forces it closed.
I don’t recognize these two as they spill down into the brig, carrying supplies to patch the holes.
They barely spare me a glance before hurrying around the space, hammering blocks of wood and scraps of canvas into the leaks.
The water is now to my thighs and I stumble my way to the front of the cell, gripping the iron.
A swell takes us again and a crate of supplies slides across the ground.
I jump back a second before it careens into the bars.
The force is strong enough to break them from the ceiling and they fall inward at an angle, reducing the size of my cage by a concerning degree.
“Hey! Unlock the door!”
A man glances over, sees the situation and shakes his head.
“Don’t ‘ave the key, mate!” He has the gall to look concerned but his partner doesn’t even look at me.
Their patch work takes them to one side of my cell and I cling to the bars near them, watching the water creep up my chest. The pitching of the ship is so bad, the three of us are thrown about like ragdolls.
The ship lists so hard, my stomach bottoms out and I’m convinced we’re going to capsize.
Everything in the hold slams into the wall.
I hear a cry of alarm. The man who’d spoken is pinned just outside my cell.
The other crew member curses and hurries over.
He shoves his shoulder against the crate but it holds fast.
“Damnit, Raul, it won’t move!” They share a concerned look.
I’m close enough to help and without a second thought, reach through the bars to the crate. They both look at me but I fix Raul with a determined look.
“You push, we’ll pull,” I command. “One, two—heave!”
We throw our strength into the crate but it doesn’t even budge. The ship pitches again, sending us all into the water. I come up with barely a foot of space above my head and Raul is fighting to keep his chin above water.
“I’ll go get help!”
The man barely makes it to the steps before the ship dips. There’s a loud crack and a beam crashes down on him, taking him under. The water turns red and he doesn’t come back up.
“Fuck!” Raul cries.
Panic overtakes him and he frantically shoves against the crate, clawing at the wood.
I press up against the bars again, the cage a stark reminder of my own situation and the line between captive and crew.
A line that doesn’t seem to matter much at this moment because all I see is a man just as trapped as I am.
It doesn’t matter that he’s my enemy—right now he’s just a man facing death and losing.
Water rushes over Raul’s face. His arms flail above the waterline. I shove both hands through the bars and find Raul’s, gripping his hard in my own. I wait with bated breath for it to recede. When it does, he’s only left with inches.
“Well, Raul, we’re in this together it looks like.” I give him a quick smile.
“I’ve always been afraid of drowning,” Raul sputters. “I always thought that odd being a sailor. I was convinced it would be the noose—”
The ship lists, the water spills over Raul’s head cutting off his words and I have to force my mouth close to the bars to breathe.
I sputter, salt water bursts across my tongue and the manacles weigh heavy on my wrists.
Bubbles rise from Raul’s breathing and his grip on my hand tightens.
My stomach lurches as I stare helplessly at the bubbles, hoping to god they don’t stop.
The water lowers and Raul’s face appears again.
He coughs and rapidly blinks away the briny drops on his lashes.
His eyes are bright with fear as he studies me.
“You don’t seem afraid of much,” he says breathlessly.
I spit out water and huff a laugh.
“I’m just good at hiding it, Raul,” I say. “I’m afraid now, if that means anything.”
And I am. Terrified. Not just of drowning, but because it feels like I’m reliving the past all over again. I’m just as caged, just as trapped, as I was before—with someone I can’t help.
“I don’t want to die—” Raul’s voice breaks.
I shake my head, unable to voice any reassurance because we both know the truth. His neck strains as he struggles to stay above the water line.
“Please,” he whimpers.
The plea shatters my reality.
“Please—”
It’s her hand I hold, although that’s not how it went. I was too far away—restrained in my own hell, unable to reach her.
“Please, take me instead!”
Please, please, please—
Eight years old—she’s only eight years old. Calling for me, her big brother, her forever protector, except when it matters. When it matters, I’m helpless and far away, why am I so far away?
All I can do is plead—
So I beg…
I beg—
…and beg and beg and beg—
A cry brings me back to the present. Wrenching me violently from the past.
“I’m here,” I choke out.
I only have time to see the brief gratefulness flicker in Raul’s eyes before the water washes over his head.
“No!” I shout, yanking his hand to me as though I can pull him from death that easily. I grip his hand tightly when I realize the water isn’t receding. He thrashes as his air runs out. It takes everything in me to keep ahold of his hand as the bubbles grow frantic along with his movements.
“No, no, no!” My words are angry, not desperate.
This cannot happen again— why is this happening again?
The agony of my failure rips a cry from my own throat and as Raul’s movements slow and finally stop, I’m left with the uncomfortable silence of death.
Except it’s not silent—it’s screaming out to me that once again I couldn’t save someone right in front of me.
I clutch Raul’s cold hand to me as though he can help hold back the emotions pushing against my chest making it hard for me to breathe.
I slam my free hand against the bars. “Fuck!”
The ship lurches and falls down a swell.
I fight to keep my nose and mouth above water, refusing to let his hand go even though it means coughing up the sea every time the ship tips broadside.
My wrists ache from the weight of the shackles, my lungs hurt but still I hold onto death like it’s the last thread keeping me here.
Who did you fail?
The words echo around me—taunting me with the way they toe the line between past and present.
No. No, this time was different. I didn’t let go.
This time I did everything I could—I didn’t fail Raul like I’d failed my sister. Because after the pleading, after the begging when my voice had long gone hoarse and hers had died to a whimper—when all she’d had left was the lifeline of my eyes searing into hers—I looked away.
I fucking looked away. I closed my eyes like the moment didn’t belong to me and while I couldn’t disappear physically, I’d cut her off just as effectively. And I’ll never forgive myself for that.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
To who, I’m not sure. Raul. My sister. Myself. Maybe to all three.
I’d abandoned her and made her die alone. No one should die alone.
“I’m so damn sorry.”
It feels like a lifetime that I hover between nearly drowning and still having inches of air above my face but the seas finally calm and slowly the water recedes to my chest, then down to my waist. Still, I hold on to Raul’s hand. I collapse back against the wall. Everything aches—
The door above creaks open and Harrison, two other pirates and Blackwell descend the steps.
Harrison rushes over, glaring at me as he takes in the scene.
He and the two other men move the crate, freeing Raul’s body.
I’m forced to release his hand and with reluctance, I let him slip away, feeling some sort of way about it but refusing to show any more raw emotion around Blackwell.
I look away as the men remove Raul’s body, and meet Blackwell’s stare with a heavy one of my own. I don’t have any anger in me at the moment, only the heaviness of death and the exhaustion of trying to keep myself alive.
“We need to move ‘im while we clean up the hold.” Harrison nods towards me.
Blackwell unlocks the warped cell door. It takes him a few hard yanks to pull the door out of the weird angle it’s at but eventually he succeeds. He grabs my manacled wrist and drags me towards the stairs.
We don’t speak—I can see by the set of his shoulders, the storm exhausted both of us.
Opening a room down the main hallway of the ship, Blackwell shoves me inside with barely a glance in my direction before slamming and locking the door.
I look around at the room which is obviously used for excess storage.
Barrels and crates fill nearly the entire space and the only light is from a small porthole. Well, that’s an improvement at least.
Nausea sweeps through me at the ungodly amount of salt water I’d just consumed, and the thirst hits me hard. I sink down into an unoccupied corner and close my eyes. I’ve saved a lot of people, but why is it that I only see the ones I couldn’t?
Who did you fail?
As I drift unconscious, the eyes of Raul, my sister and countless others follow me into the dark, making sure I don’t forget.