Epilogue
Adrian Paine drifted his gaze over the weathered grey sails that intermittently flapped and swelled in the wind. The backdrop of the blue, near-cloudless sky behind them showed bright weather.
Beautiful clear skies, tranquil rolling waves, and the perfect wind to fill the sails. His father had warned him that a day like this could see him getting fucked over.
Apparently, devious wenches liked to fly across the ocean on perfect days and steal everything from gullible men if they weren’t careful. Of course, he also knew his father had found something precious on a bright, sunny day just like this, something he coveted deeply.
From his spot on the ship, Adrian watched a man sprint across the runner of a sail post before using a rope to twirl his way back down to the main deck.
He checked the directional compass hanging around his neck and turned the wheel of the ship to the left a little, righting their course.
For twenty-three years, Adrian had lived his life on ocean waters. He barely knew the land. He barely understood it.
The idea of a class system, of a government, was foreign to him. He didn’t understand how it worked, how there were high, middle, and lower classes. Not when all he had ever felt was freedom.
He’d been swallowed by riches every time they brought this ship back to the Paine trove, which had once belonged to some dead pirate called ‘The Raider.’ It was nothing but a legacy now, since they had stolen it for themselves and added to it.
They also spent it freely.
So, seeing poor commoners when he did touch foot on land was strange. Adrian could spend his share of wages on whatever he wanted, had so much of it that he never needed to worry or care.
Apparently, he was too much like his father had been when he was his age. Adrian spent his money on booze, gambled it away, and took multiple prostitutes.
He didn’t like the land, either.
His legs felt shaky. It was too sturdy, too hard beneath his feet. He often walked around like he was drunk, even when he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol.
He was an ocean dweller and would never be anything else. He much preferred to have the waves beneath him, whether violent or calm.
He liked having the wheel of the helm in his strong grasp, enjoyed controlling the vessel he currently manned. It made him feel powerful, like he had somehow tamed an untameable element. Da told me he felt the same way.
He also commanded men like a king. He told them what to do, where to go, how to do their jobs.
He’d been on the sea all his life; he had more experience than over half the people here. Perhaps not always hands-on in the beginning, but his young eyes had watched every aspect of a ship moving and he knew it better than anyone.
Although he had been carefully watched by his mother, someone extremely protective of him, he’d started working when he was young.
Adrian had started climbing the shrouds when he was seven, had pulled on ropes when he was eleven, and manned the helm when he was sixteen. He killed his first man at eighteen.
He’d seen much of the world, had much spilt blood on his hands. He was a pirate who already had a small bounty on his head, just like both his parents did.
A smile curled his lips, his blue eyes trailing over the crew working on the deck below him.
He’d never forget the day he first stepped off the ship onto dry land after he’d murdered someone. His father had headed straight to a port after he did, telling them they had to celebrate.
It was all under a guise.
His father was a strange person who told him he was a man now that he’d taken a life and should be treated as one. Behind his mother’s back, because he didn’t think she’d approve, he’d bought Adrian his first woman.
He’d been more frightened of her, of losing his virginity, than he had been of gutting a man.
His lips curled into a brighter smile as he laughed at himself.
That was definitely no longer the case now that he was twenty-three and had bedded many, but it often made him chuckle, especially when his gaze turned back to look at the vessel following his own.
At the helm of that ship, he could see a boy who looked fairly like himself.
His hair was black like his, his eyes blue like his. Actually, if it wasn’t for the fact that they were five years apart, they almost looked like twins.
He doesn’t know what’s coming. Adrian had decided not to ruin the surprise.
Maddox Paine was his name, and he was his younger brother.
The sound of a footstep followed by the thud of a wooden peg leg sounded behind him.
“You’ve got that stupid look on your face,” his father said as he emerged from the cabin behind to him. “Can only imagine what trouble you’re up to.”
“Just remembering when you made us dock right after I took my first life.”
“Are you now?” Alister chuckled as he put his arm around his shoulders and leaned most of his weight on him. “Why are you thinking so heavily on the past?”
He turned his head to the side to look at his father, his smile turning mischievous. “Well, I’m sure you’ll be treating Maddox to the same, considering he just killed his first man in that last raid.”
Alister had directed them to shore, despite having more than enough supplies to last them months.
“Aye, lad, you’re bloody right about that!” He threw his head back with a great, bellowing laugh, patting him so hard on the back he almost stumbled into the wheel. “Don’t tell your mother; she’ll slap me around a bunch if you do. She doesn’t know I did that for you back then.”
His father patted his head and ruffled his short hair until it was unkempt.
“You couldn’t even talk to a woman!” He made a scoffing noise. “Couldn’t have my own son being such a pansy.”
He pulled an exaggerated pout. “I wasn’t a pansy.”
“Despite my haggard appearance now, I used to plough my way through shore wenches before I met your mother. I expect my boys to do the same.”
Perhaps because Adrian had never really known more than the Howling Death he currently manned, and the Laughing Siren on which he had spent most of his life, he was turning into someone just like his father.
He was his role model, and like father like son, Adrian mimicked him in almost every aspect.
“Ma tells me I’m going to be just like you.”
“Aye, and while you and Maddox have her eyes, you both look just like me too.”
It was hard to tell now, considering his father’s state.
Adrian turned his head once more to look him over.
Although he wore an eye patch with their family crest imprinted into it, just like the ring Adrian wore on his forefinger, Adrian knew what lay beneath it. The cloudy, milky-blue eye blindly stared while the other was light brown and often appeared to glow in the light.
It had been like that all his life, but the scar running over it was accompanied by another newer one he almost considered worse.
On the same side, like that side of his face was cursed, was a gash that ran from the corner of his mouth, all the way to his cheek bone, and even nicked the tip of his ear. It was deep and nasty, and it meant part of his face was permanently twisted due to the tendons and muscles being cut.
Adrian had been there when his mother sewed his father’s face back together after being slashed with a sword. He’d been protecting Maddox’s life four years ago, and instead of worrying for himself, he’d protected his son.
Pirate hunters had set their sights on them.
It was a tough battle. There had been more than one ship to fight, two ships matched against two ships. They’d been hunting his parents and knew to bring more than one hunting vessel armed to the teeth with cannons.
Watching his parents fighting – either side by side or back to back – and defending each other, had always been awe-inspiring to Adrian.
They were so in sync with each other that one knew when to duck so the other could shoot someone above their head.
If they were fighting together like this, one of them rarely got hurt, and Alister was always there to shield Rosetta with his own body if he needed to.
He hated it when any harm came to her.
Even though he was supposed to have been hiding, because Rosetta hadn’t deemed him old enough yet to participate in battles, fourteen-year-old Maddox had taken it upon himself to take up a sword, like some stupid hero who wasn’t skilled or experienced.
With no one knowing to back him up, he’d gotten cornered. Alister had jumped in and saved his life, copping a strike across the face instead of the blade slashing for Maddox.
Now, that side of his face was not only blind but also twisted into a mangled scar. His long, stubbled beard, now peppered with grey, only helped to hide it a little bit.
The other side of him was nearly perfect, not a scratch on it. Adrian knew to judge what he would look like when he was older by that side rather than the other.
The rest of his father’s body was covered in scars, but he was as strong as an ox, and Adrian had yet to beat him in an arm wrestle. He often challenged him to one.
Adrian’s gaze fell to his father’s feet. Despite his peg leg, Alister refused to stand back when there was a battle to be fought. He was at the front of every attack.
He was still the captain after all, and Adrian knew he would never gain the title himself until his father died.
But how he had obtained his peg leg was not as grand of a story as his face. Ma often picks on him for it.
He’d lost his foot to foot rot by not changing his boots enough. Apparently, she’d warned him it would happen, but he didn’t often listen to her. An ‘I told you so’ had fallen from her lips the moment they realised why parts of his toes were turning black.
Adrian still thought he was brave – and a little insane, too – because of it. After the rot had spread from his toes to the rest of his foot, Alister demanded that someone, in his words, “cut the fucking thing off.”