CASPIAN
A few days later, we’re all crammed into Blackwell’s cabin—Van, Flynt, Harrison and Lan. Blackwell is leaning over the maps strewn across the table.
“We’ll make port in Ironhold to resupply,” Blackwell says.
Fuck .
I hear Van inhale sharply. Blackwell glances up, first at Van, then at me. I school my features to avoid reacting. He tilts his head, narrowing his eyes slightly.
“After that, we’ll head to Argentum.” His eyes are still on me.
Ironhold. A place I said I’d never set foot in again.
My palms are sweating, the air suffocating. The memories are trying to shove their way forward. The scars on my back feel tight but I resist the urge to shrug my shoulders, knowing I’m under the Captain’s microscope. I don’t need him discovering any more cracks.
“Wouldn’t Verdun be a better choice, Captain?” Van speaks up and my jaw tics, willing him to shut the fuck up.
I hum my displeasure so only he can hear, but while he stiffens next to me, he stands firm as he meets Blackwell’s gaze. Blackwell stares at Van, but quickly looks back at me, somehow knowing I’m the root of whatever Van’s issue is.
“Is there a problem with stopping in Ironhold?” Harrison demands.
He’s leaning back against the Captain’s desk, arms folded across his chest, and a semi-glare on his face.
His standard look where I’m concerned. He’s looking back and forth between me and Van, picking up that something is wrong.
Flynt shifts on his feet, looking distinctly uncomfortable. I clear my throat .
“No, Ironhold will do just fine.”
The silence in the room is oppressive. Van opens his mouth again.
“Van,” I bark sharply. “Enough.”
He slams his mouth shut and huffs in frustration.
He’s not as good at hiding his emotions and damnit, the worry and fear are written all over his face.
Blackwell studies him for a beat before he looks back down at the maps and continues to talk about resupplying details, and the plan after Ironhold, but I’m not listening. All I hear is his voice in my ear.
“My little prince—” He purrs.
His hands run across my skin but I’m so far gone I can’t even recoil. The rough rope burns my wrists as I yank against them. I can’t bring myself to give up the fight, but it only seems to fuel him. He leans over my back, his breath hot on my neck.
“My little toy,” He pants. “No, no—stay with me—” His fingers dig into my scalp and he yanks my head up, pulling me from whatever oblivion I was trying to escape to.
“Caspian—”
I blink. The past evaporates, and I see Van standing in front of me, his face a little pale.
He looks like he’s been trying to get my attention.
I can’t breathe—everyone is looking at me.
I can’t be in this cramped space any longer.
I abruptly storm out of the room and onto the main deck.
I stride quickly over to the rail, knuckles white as I hang on for dear life, and gulp in massive breaths of crisp sea air.
“Caspian.” It’s Van.
“What the fuck was that?” I hiss, hiding my fear behind anger.
“You know you can’t go to Ironhold!” Van whispers harshly. “Especially after what just happened in there! What if he—”
“I’ll keep my head down,” I state firmly.
“No,” Van growls.
I’ve only ever seen him this angry once or twice over the years. Red is inching up his neck, and he’s staring at me, equal parts furious and hurt, but the resolve is hardening on his face.
“No?” My brow raises.
Van steps into me. “Do you remember who had to bring you back?” He jabs his chest. “ Me . I had to see what that monster did to you—” His voice cracks, and he breathes out harshly through his nose. “ I had to put you back together and I can’t—I can’t see that happen to you again.”
My face softens, and I curl my hand around the back of his neck.
“We’ve walked through some fire together, haven’t we,” I state. “I promise I’ll keep my head down—”
“Can’t you stay on the ship?” Van pleads.
I open my mouth to answer but I see Blackwell over his shoulder as he appears on deck. His eyes sharpen on us as he sees how I’m standing with Van. The glare he’s throwing at my hand on Van’s neck is scalding. I squeeze my fingers reassuringly before I step away, as Blackwell approaches.
“Is there anything I need to be aware of?” Blackwell demands.
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.
His eyes flash at the violence but he stays still under my arm.
“Something has you spooked, Caspian,” he says. “And I need to know what it is.”
I force myself to breathe normally. “It’s nothing.”
“Don’t bullshit me.” His voice is low, gruff and dangerous.
His chest is pushing against me with every rise and fall of his breathing.
I push aside the rush it gives me to be this close to him.
His face is carefully blank, but I watch his eyes jump to my lips—so fast, it’s nothing more than a flicker of movement.
I force myself to step back, removing my arm.
“I told you—” My fists clench at my sides. “It’s nothing.”
Blackwell’s hand whips out and wraps around my neck. In an instant, our places are reversed. Now it’s my back pushed against the wall. His fingers burn on my skin, and I’m thankful there’s still a few inches between us so he can’t feel what his violent touch is doing to me.
“I don’t like liars.” Blackwell’s fingers tighten and his eyes glitter with rage and something deeper, something very close to desire that I know he doesn’t want to acknowledge.
My lips press into a thin line and I don’t answer. At some point, I realize my hand is fisting his shirt—he must realize it too because he bares his teeth and steps away, distance pushing its way through the tension between us.
“Leave it alone, Blackwell,” I say.
The air is charged, like any spark will have it combusting. It feels violent, but there’s also a confusion and hesitation—like we both don’t know quite how to handle one another. Like there’s an unspoken question we’re still trying to figure out the answer to.
“Captain.” A crew member appears at the end of the hall.
Blackwell holds my gaze for a moment longer before, with a huff of frustration, he turns and leaves.
Once he’s out of sight, I sink back against the wall.
I know going ashore in Ironhold is foolish.
I know it, and yet I can’t bring myself to sit here on the ship.
Like a coward. Like someone who’s still being held back by a traumatic past. I can’t do that.
Because the minute I dwell in the memories, the minute I let them resurface, is the moment the monster who put them there reclaims power over me. Fuck that. And fuck him.
Running my hands over my face I take a deep breath and regain my composure.
Man, I need a drink and a fuck—something to take my mind off everything, and alleviate whatever fucked up sexual tension is bubbling up between Blackwell and me.
Not that I’m complaining but damn, it’s definitely making me crave something he doesn't seem like he wants to give.
In fact, the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of holding up in a brothel somewhere. That should be safe enough. And I know just the place.