20. Whale, Hello
Whale, Hello
Nothing prepares you for death, and though I just spent a few wonderful hours in the sand rolling around and kissing Silas without a care in the world, I’m not done yet.
I’ve only just begun to know him, to skim the surface of Captain Night.
And though part of me is still here for the story, it’s become so much more complicated.
My eyes slide to the man on his knees in the sand next to me, and I trace the way he’s tucked his hair around his ear, the stubble that’s growing unruly as it lengthens. His lips are pressed together in a flat line as he quietly and carefully assesses the people surrounding us.
Though I’ve only been a part of this crew for a few weeks, the thought of it all ending on this beach makes me sick.
I search our crew’s expressions. Their faces are cast in shadows, but as they turn and see Silas and me, fear and anger and determination warp their features.
They have lost more than half their crew by now, and they do not want to lose another soul.
I don’t want anyone else to die.
It’s strange, to have surrounded myself with pirates for a month, to find myself so drawn to them. They’re spirited, more adventurous than anyone else I know, even Louise. Perhaps they have a … reputation, but to me, they’ve become something more than just a crew of strangers.
They’ve become family.
And isn’t that what all of this is about? Isn’t that what I’ve been searching for? A place to belong. And I belong to them now, more than I think I ever belonged to anyone else.
“I heard a certain ship left Nassau Harbour after entering a certain room at a certain tavern.” I don’t recognize the voice, but Silas tenses beside me. “We saw the storm when we arrived, so I thought we’d come and take a look.”
A woman stops beside us. She’s dressed in a long burgundy coat.
She wears dark pants that are tucked into shiny black boots and a billowing plum shirt that shows off quite a lot of cleavage.
She is remarkably gorgeous, in an almost terrifying way, even with a missing canine, and she doesn’t even blink when Sir pops up from out of nowhere to weave between her legs, purring as if he knows these strangers.
The woman stoops beside us with a smile.
Freckles splatter over her high cheekbones, framing thin pink lips.
Her red hair is set ablaze by the light of the torches, and her warm brown eyes are calculating as she searches our faces for some hint of fear.
I have no doubt that mine is there, laid bare for all to see.
“I was horrified when I arrived to find your crew lazing about, Silas.” I jerk in surprise at the use of his first name.
“Then again, you were never too hard on me.” She laughs and stands with a grunt before motioning to her people.
They put away their weapons with practiced ease, slipping knives and swords into sheaths, holstering their guns.
The woman holds out a hand to Silas, and, with an apologetic glance at me, he takes it.
Who the hell is this?
“Charlotte, you nearly gave me a scare.” Silas laughs as he shakes her hand before pulling her in for a brief hug, his hands sliding momentarily along her waist.
I open and close my mouth. What the fuck is going on? All the warm, cozy feelings I felt minutes earlier seem to disappear at once. Charlotte looks at Silas like he has all the answers, and my heart feels as though it’s tearing in two, my vision hazy as I take them in.
And then Silas is holding out a hand to me and helping me up. I offer my hand to Charlotte numbly, and she tentatively takes it, squeezing too hard. I hiss as I reclaim my hand, shaking it out.
“Laszlo,” Silas starts, motioning to Charlotte, “this is Captain Charlotte Rowe. She sailed under me for a time before she took hold of her own ship and crew.”
I force a smile as the crew of She Deceitful stand and brush past Charlotte’s crew. It explains so much. Their camaraderie, the use of his first name. Captain to captain, they’re equals.
But I can’t help but think we are not. I am a man without a reputation. Just another piece of his crew.
Silas clamps a hand on my shoulder, and Charlotte doesn’t miss it, sneering when his hand doesn’t fall away.
“Laszlo is our newest crew member,” Silas says.
Charlotte blinks, expression neutral. But her left eye twitches, then there’s a flicker of a smile, and all that composure is swept away with laughter as she throws back her head and screams.
“You were always a softy at heart, taking in anyone. Still up to your shenanigans, are you?” She throws an arm around Silas’s shoulders and steers him away.
I raise a hand as if I can yank him back, but I let it drop with a frown.
They’re already so far away, and I can’t hear what they’re saying, heads bent and voices low.
But whatever it is, Silas shakes his head and snickers as they disappear back down the trail we just came from.
To the beach we rolled around on, kissed on, where I showed him one of my best-kept secrets.
A hand touches my shoulder, and I glance down to find Jack. “A lot of ’istory there.”
“Not helping,” I grumble, shrugging off his hand.
Pip nods to me, features softening. “How ’bout you aid me with supper, hmm?”
I sigh and follow him toward the fire.
As the water begins to boil, Pip tosses the crabs into a basket and covers it to let them steam. He offers a small piece to Sir, and the cat takes it greedily. I’ve never really been one for crab because of Louise’s shellfish allergy, but I’m hungry for just about anything after the day I’ve had.
Murmuring under my breath, I slam my knife down into a mango.
My fingers are sticky as I peel and slice the fruit.
I toss a piece of mango into my mouth, but despite its delicious pop of zesty flavor, my teeth are grinding.
It seems no matter what I do, I can’t stomp down on the fury building in my chest.
My hands freeze on the next mango, my attention going to the trail at the other end of the beach. They’re still gone, somewhere on the other side of those trees, and I hate the jealousy that creeps into my thoughts.
“Ye don’t have anythin’ to be worried ’bout, Laszlo.” I blush, turning to meet Pip’s soft expression. “Neither meself nor the crew has seen Cap’ain look at anyone the way he looks at ye.”
I clear my throat, trying to focus on the mango. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Pip laughs heartily. “It’s nothing to be shameful of, ye know. Everything at sea is free, even love.” My face must be beet red because when I glance up and meet Pip’s gaze, he grins. “Cap’ain needs someone to keep him in line, ye know. We were all worried over him after the raid.”
“We really don’t need to talk about this, Pip.” But I can’t help but think, Love, is that what this is? Even though we’ve only known each other for such a brief amount of time?
“Nothin’ embarrassing ’bout love, Laszlo.”
“Pip, please, for all that is sacred and holy.”
The cook nudges my elbow with a chuckle, but my hand is poised over the mango, still holding the knife. We watch in horror as it slices straight across the webbing between my thumb and index finger of my left hand.
I think, for a moment, that I’ve imagined it, but then the blood begins to dribble, and now it’s flowing, staining the mango beneath.
“Oh, fuck.” I drop the knife and lift my hand up and over my head.
“Oh, Laszlo.” Pip crosses to me as I spin in a circle, cursing quietly under my breath.
“Sweetmotheroffuckinggodandallthatisholyjesusfuck.” I grip my wrist in my other hand, hopping up and down as I curse.
“That’s quite a colorful mouth ye’ve got there,” Pip says gently as he reaches for my hand.
I shake my head and make a string of odd sounds as he wraps his hands around my wrist. Blood flows steadily, and I think I’m going to be sick.
I’ve always been a bit faint when it comes to blood, but the sight of blood pumping from my wound is—
“Laszlo, you need to calm down.” Mick grasps me by my shoulders as Pip takes my hands in his and presses a scrap of cloth to the wound.
Nope. Nuh-uh. I gag as Pip angles my hand toward him and I see the long gash along it, a rather wide opening in the webbing. “I’m going to be sick,” I choke out.
“Please don’t,” Mick says, stepping farther back as I dry heave. “Why is he bleeding so much?” Mick asks Pip.
Yes, I would also like to know. I stumble in the sand, gagging again, but Mick tightens his hold on my shoulders to keep me steady.
Someone hands Pip a needle and thread, and my mouth opens, my tongue heavy. Acid works its way up my throat as Pip threads the needle, turning to look at me. “Laszlo, can ye handle this?”
I shake my head. “No, no needles.” I am the worst pirate ever. I can’t handle blood, I can’t handle needles, and I’m jealous of something that could very well be nothing between two captains off somewhere very private while both crews are watching this scene unravel from our makeshift camp.
Mick gently pushes me down, and my knees collapse beneath me as Pip readies the needle.
Someone hands him a bottle, and my vision is suddenly tunneling, black creeping in along the edges.
Pip tilts the bottle over my hand, and it stings.
I hiss at the bite of the alcohol, and my heart pounds as fear shoots through me.
But I hear laughter as two people tumble through the trees. Craning my head, I catch sight of Silas stumbling onto our beach from the trail.
“Silas,” I croak.
Pip digs the needle in, and I can’t stop the shrill scream that leaves my lips. It doesn’t even hurt more than the wound, but something about the needle, about watching it thread through my skin, makes it impossible to stop.
“Laszlo?” Even through the pain, I recognize his voice.
Mick’s hands lift from me, and gentler, calloused ones replace his. It’s him, I can tell by his touch, by the scent that drifts off him and encases me. Shuddering, I relax back against him, sighing in relief.
“What happened?” he asks over me.
“There was a minor accident,” Pip says. I close my eyes, trying to ignore the tug as he slips the needle through again. “Nothin’ too serious, I don’ think.”
Silas squeezes my shoulders as he bends closer. His breath is warm on my neck as he whispers at the shell of my ear, “Are you all right?”
I make a soft sound in the back of my throat. “Now that you’re here.”
Even from here, I see him flush, and I can’t help it, I grin like a fool. He ducks his head, and the action is so adorable, so unlike the captain the rest of this crew knows, it makes my heart stutter.
For a moment, it feels as if we’re back on that beach with the water lapping against us, and what I wouldn’t give to be there again. I could live in those moments forever.
“Yer all done, lad.” Pip ties off the thread and stands. I blink in surprise and glance down to my hand, to the puffy, red skin. Pip has sewn a perfect line, his stitches tight and practically flawless. “Don’ act so surprised,” he says with a huff. “It’s not that hard.”
I laugh breathlessly, staring down at my hand. “Thank you, Pip. Sorry I panicked.”
Pip smiles down at me. “Not yer fault, Laszlo. It’s mine.” Nodding to Silas, Pip returns to the steaming crabs, lifting the lid off the pot and peering in.
Silas helps me stand, tucking me gently under his arm and away from prying eyes to a secluded corner of the beach, out of the torchlight. It’s dark here, and as I turn to him, his features are faint in the shadows.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asks quietly. He holds my other hand, his grip on me warm and light.
I sigh and admire the sky, the speckling of stars gleaming against the night. Humming, I smile to myself. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, to seeing so many stars. “I’ll be okay.” Clearing my throat, I glance at him with a reserved smile. “I’m not a fan of needles.”
“I don’t imagine many people are.”
We fall silent, the two crews cheering in the distance as Pip serves food and ale begins flowing. They’re gathered around the large fire, seated in small groups as they feast.
“What are you thinking about, Laszlo?”
I want to ask about Charlotte, about who this woman is and why she means so much to him, how she of all people can call him Silas. But it’s probably best that I don’t broach the subject. Not now, anyway.
“Just trying not to focus on the pain,” I lie.
With a grunt, Silas drops my hands and moves to stand. “Let’s get some food,” he says, brushing off his pants. “Food always helps.”
“I’ll join you in a bit.”
Silas pauses in his turn toward the fire to regard me, but he can’t see my expression in this darkness, can’t see the pain there when I think about him with anyone else. “Are you certain?”
“Yeah,” I say with a wave of my hand. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be there soon.”
He hesitates, but nods, jogging back down the beach toward the fire.
Silas laughs at something as Pip hands him food, and I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy in my chest. I hate this emotion, hate what it does to people.
I don’t care who he’s been with in the past, but the thought of him being with anyone else now makes the jealousy rise in me and my uninjured hand curl into the sand.
Sir settles beside me, his ears twitching as he looks up at me.
“It must be nice to be liked by everyone,” I whisper, scratching his head with my good hand. “To never worry if someone has the same intense feelings as you.” Like all the others, he abandons me, prancing toward the fire, seeking warmth and food.
I lean back in the sand. Who am I to judge? Who am I to tell Silas no? We aren’t boyfriends, we aren’t exclusive, and I won’t hold him back if Charlotte is who he wants. I’m sure no one would blink if she were at his side, a woman and a man, a captain and a captain.
With a sigh, I shake off the sand as I stand before plastering on a smile and joining the two crews around the fire. I have to return home anyway, right? I knew I couldn’t stay in my happy little bubble forever.
The fun had to end sometime.