Chapter 10.
‘Christian’
Reuben doesn't stop me from leaving the room. For that at least, I'm grateful.
My emotions have jumbled together into an indecipherable mesh beneath my skin and I'm having trouble picking them all apart. As though I've kept them tucked in too long and now they're screaming for air.
He sees me breaking, huh. If what he's saying is true, then my initial suspicions were right. Reuben is the greatest obstacle to my mission. Deceiving him is the only way to continue living as Christian Adler.
I release a soft sigh. I'm too tired for more thinking and feeling, so for now I'll just focus on tonight. Now that we’ve left the harbour, most of our roles are really just supervisory, so I take a corner of the deck and do exactly what I'd been doing every day for the 571 days before Christian's death.
I watch.
It's easy to feel like I've reverted to that time with a role like this, but I've successfully distanced myself from all the bad memories. Like snipping away a single thread that hosted all those heavy feelings.
I'm grateful for it really. It helps me to forget small things.
Like the fact that Lucia is nowhere to be seen.
There are a lot of people dancing across the deck, but my eyes draw naturally towards Camille’s light laughter as she takes the hand of an unfamiliar young man.
His crisp grey suit complements dusty brown hair but there's a warm nervousness to his smile. A nervousness that only seems to exist under Camille’s gaze.
She calls him Josei and even that tumbles from her lips with an affection I don’t think she’s noticed.
It fades into something much more relaxed throughout their dance but everyone can see the gentle shyness they have for each other.
In the way his smile lights up his eyes and her cheeks colour slightly.
Strangely enough, watching them doesn't trigger my usual bitterness.
Instead, it makes me feel... warmer. Much more at ease than before. As if trying to convince me it's not all so bad.
The moment midnight arrives, the skies explode with sparks of colour, of reds, blues and yellows that start up a wave of applause and the beginning of a birthday song, weaving the voices of the guests together.
It’s captivating, seeing it with my own eyes, and this… this is the closest I’ve ever been to it.
The moment the fireworks subside, someone with a microphone steps forward to introduce the birthday girl—though I doubt she really needed introducing—and the mic is passed around the deck as the people closest to her say a few words, wishing her well and ultimately unveiling the gifts they brought for her.
It is a moment centered entirely around Camille.
By the time the mic gets to Josei, the atmosphere has changed into something light and comfortable and even the audience has fallen into easy laughter and relaxed smiles.
Josei is beaming nervously as he takes the stage to present his gift and I can’t help but notice Camille is beaming too, a telltale new blush to her cheeks as he begins to speak.
“I know you said you don’t like expensive things…
which we all know is a lie by the way, this boat is fantastic,” the guests chuckle, “but I wanted to get you something that is just as priceless as you are. Something I could never afford to lose… or own for that matter, and which mimics you in every sense.”
The entire crowd waits with bated breath and even I can’t help but wait too when he swallows visibly. Even from my place in the crook of the passage, that leads to the lower decks, I know he and Camille are only seeing each other. That nothing else possibly exists in their little bubble.
Josei calls one of his attendants forward with an intricate box that sets off a cacophony of murmurs and wide eyes. The air immediately becomes restless and people look frozen to their spots until the servant opens the box.
The atmosphere on the deck immediately freezes over, shattering the light-heartedness and chilling it with new unease.
Shocked cries fill the space. There are a handful of people who step back in alarm and others who are frozen. Some even start to look around with wide eyes.
And I hate that I don’t understand.
The jewel that sits inside the gorgeous box is a spherical mirage of blues and violets. Even from here it is pristine and easily priceless, just as he said. But Camille and all the other guests have turned as white as a sheet.
Reuben’s voice breaks the silence in the comms, “This fucking kid! Tobias, secure Camille!”
It sounds like he's running.
What's happening?
I can see Tobias and Xavier pushing through the crowd to get to Camille’s side, and Josei's expression mimics my confusion.
My heart goes out to him when he steps forward, reaching his hand out with both nervousness and fear, “Camille?”
A shot rings out in the air and my eyes widen.
Josei staggers back for a moment, blood spilling from his lips.
When he looks down at his chest there is a flower of red blooming across his grey suit.
Two more shots, and more blood spills from his lips—more flowers bloom across his chest.
And when he looks up at Camille there’s both a realization there… and a sadness in his eyes that goes dull as he falls to the floor.
All hell breaks loose.
Screams break out on the deck. Among them is Camille’s as she reaches for him, but Tobias and Xavier are already there, pulling her back behind the bar to their backs, right as more shots ring out in the air.
The servant falls next, the expensive jewel clattering to the floor and rolling out of the box, like the slow rolling of a movie. Until the deck is filled with panicked and stampeding people, shoving each other to get down to the levels below.
Some of them are shot in the back as they run, others are shoved into the pool in a bid to escape, painting the aquamarine with tendrils of red when they are caught by the gunfire.
I am stapled to the floor, with no idea what to do as they run past me, shoving into my shoulders violently as they try to get to safety.
Tobias and Xavier have thrown Camille and Josei down behind the bar, to the front of the ship, with their guns drawn, but there’s no way for them to determine the enemy line of fire.
It is only mere moments of mayhem, of screaming and violence and Reuben barking orders, until the deck is silent again.
Until the only thing to be heard is the rapid pulse of my heartbeat in my ears.
Tobias attempts to take a look over the bar but he has to take cover from more shots almost immediately.
And finally, it’s enough.
“They’re firing from the bridge,” I speak over the comms, finally broken out of my shameful stupor.
“What about the crew?” Xavier asks. “I didn’t see any of them on the deck.”
“Whether they’re alive or dead will depend on what kind of people we’re dealing with,” Reuben responds coldly.
“Whoever it is, they’re obviously not squeamish, Reuben,” Tobias warns him.
“Well, neither are we,” Reuben replies.
A door slams open somewhere on my side of the deck and I pull my gun as I spin around, heart racing. I can hear them coming down the steps. Three of them shooting orders at each other.
I run towards them, because if they are armed, the space is too tight for me to avoid a shot.
“Gabriel. Christian. They're after the diamond.” Reuben’s voice is like the caress of a demon, whispering in my ear, until I can almost feel him there at my back, making the hairs on my neck stand on end.
And I can imagine the crazy light in his eyes and the excitement on his face as the ghost of him grabs my throat and points my face towards the enemy.
“Fuck them up.”
Crazy bastard.
The shivers are there again, tingling through my body. And I don’t think it’s dread anymore because it feels like my skin is on fire.
And I am not afraid.
The first man leads by his gun. So the moment it comes through the opening and into the hallway I'm grabbing it, sticking out my foot and pulling him forward to force him to the ground.
After all these weeks, the weight of my gun is familiar in my hands now. I've practiced with it nonstop, projecting Geoffrey Nash and Everett’s face onto each of my targets every time I entered the practice range…
Until I no longer miss.
It is why the second man falls with a bullet in his throat.
He clutches his neck as he staggers backwards on the stairs and I fly past him without sparing another glance—unsheathing the knife at my side.
I empty another bullet into his head, putting him out of his misery while deflecting the third man's gun away from me with my knife.
His shots are too late. They go wide, tearing into the wall and I plant my foot into his chest, kicking him backwards powerfully. The moment he collides with the wall at his back I've shot him in the head but I don't stop moving. I grab him by the scruff of his shirt and throw him down the stairs.
He falls like a stone into the first man, the one I’d tripped, who is only now catching his bearings and who rocks back on his heels from the dead weight.
My last bullet puts him down, burrowing between his eyes and he sinks like a stone.
Now that I’ve successfully put them down, I realize they’re disguised, wearing the grey vests and long-sleeved white shirts of the crew staff.
It’ll be a pain to attempt to identify them from the real crew.
I turn my back to head up the stairs, following where they came from, but the moment I do I hear the sound of a gun click. My heart falls into my toes because I’m not quick enough; two shots chew into the wall beside me, and I whip around quickly.
But Reuben is there.
His arms are wrapped around the shooter’s neck, and the gun falls to the floor as the man struggles in Reuben’s hold.
Reuben doesn’t break my gaze. There’s a delight there that touches his lips, an expression I notice slips onto his face in times like these, whenever he’s fighting.