Chapter 29
Chapter twenty-nine
Loud is an Understatement
Bash
The sea takes without apology, yet when it chooses to give, it returns its gifts tenfold—though never in the shape you expect.
— The Mysterious Deep: A Comprehensive Understanding
The salty air beneath moonlight was everything I never dared to hope for again. The ocean waves glistened with the kiss of the moon, and I closed my eyes, letting myself think of Billy. He would have loved this.
Night on the ship was always his favorite. He said it was like being alone with the gods, more of a religious experience than anyone ever found in a church. Standing here now, with the wind pressing against me, I thought for the first time maybe he was right.
It turned out Billy was right about a lot of things.
He would have loved that too.
“Chasing the dead won’t heal the absence they leave.”
Inu was silent as the grave as she came up beside me. Swords sheathed, and quiet calm spilling from her.
“If I could lay him to rest, then I would, but it feels like every second there is something new I should have told him. A million things I should have thanked him for. An infinite amount of apologies I owe him.”
My voice was thick with grief, and there were very few people I was willing to let hear it. Inu knew more grief than most ever experienced in a lifetime, yet she was stronger for it. She overcame it and still found space inside her to love.
“Death is inevitable,” she said. “It is how one dies that matters. Billy does not linger on this ship. If ever someone could achieve peace in death, it would be him.”
“And yet I feel him everywhere,” I said, swallowing.
Sometimes the grief of losing the man who was a father to me felt like falling into a whirlpool. An abyss of endless grief with no end in sight. Then there were the times where, for a moment, I forgot he was gone, only to remember and feel that loss all over again.
“Grief is not linear, Captain.” Inu said, “It is circular–never finished.”
If there was anyone I would have believed, it was the woman standing next to me. She wore grief like a second skin, though when others looked at her, all they saw was her stoicism. If they knew her, they would be awed that she was still standing upright. That she lived.
“I’ve spent so long courting vengeance that I don’t know what’s left in me,” I confessed.
Maybe it was the sea air or Billy’s ghost haunting me, but once the words were out, I knew they were right.
And behind that fear lived a new fear–that I would lose what will to live if I couldn’t protect Rose.
Inu’s chest rose with a long breath.
“I still think about going back.” She said quietly. “Sometimes I can’t breathe because knowing he still lives is an injustice that dishonors the memory of my family. I should have killed him before I left, but I was a coward. Every time we dock, I have to convince myself to stay. To not go back.”
I’d long suspected that was true. Her melancholy grew whenever we neared shore. More than that, I knew what I would do. The man who killed her brothers, her father, her mother–who displayed their heads as warnings on the day he forced her to marry him–lived.
That was an injustice I struggled with, not correcting it more than once.
“All you had to do was ask, and I would see it done,” I said.
“I know,” she said simply. “That is why I never asked.”
We let the air sit between us, the sound of the waves lapping against each other in their own quiet story. It was easy to run to the sea. People were complicated and took more than they gave. The sea, though–it took, but it always gave back tenfold.
“I don’t know if there is a secret to letting go of the past, but I do know that the reasons to are loud,” I said.
As if the universe believed in signs, Rose’s laughter spilled across the deck before Oscar erupted in expletives.
I turned to see them sitting with Val and one of the crew members at the square table while the crew looked on.
They’d been playing all fours for an hour now, and Rose was becoming rather good at it, though it’d be nice if she stopped betting things from my collection.
Lantern light swayed as she scooped up her winnings, and Oscar slammed his cards down.
“Loud is an understatement,” Inu said, a lilt to it that was subtle yet gave away her amusement.
“I’m glad you both found common ground,” I said.
“She is loud and entitled, but she also has a warrior’s heart,” she said. “It was strange to see their world. They both fit into it like gloves.”
That was an understatement as well. Even though Oscar proclaimed to hate London society, he was at ease in it. Navigating social norms like a skilled sailor. Rose though–it was her home. She was exceptional among sharp comments and veiled judgment.
“A world neither of us could fold ourselves into,” I said.
“Do you ever worry she will tire of the adventure? That she will go back to what feels safe?” Inu asked.
This was the part of Inu that people rarely saw. I would have told her I was honored that she’d allow me this vulnerability, but that would have only ruined the trust she was giving me. I knew her question was rooted in her own fear.
“Yes,” I answered truthfully. “If that day ever comes, I hope I remember that it was all worth it. Even if she tires of me, this ship, the sea–it was all worth the crippling loss.”
Inu nodded.
There must have been something in the night air because the pressure in my chest forced new words out, confessions that haunted me.
“If I lose her, then I’ll lose myself again,” I said.
The faintest corner of Inu’s lip twitched.
“You could have picked someone less reckless and impulsive to put your sanity into,” she said.
Despite the worry growing with every mile, I released the ghost of a small snort of laughter.
“Aye,” I said. “If I had any sense at all, I would have, but I don’t think I chose her-she chose me, and who was I to argue with her?”
“A man with limited sense,” she answered.
“It was a rhetorical question,” I said, fighting against the smile that threatened to expose me.
“I understand why she took the deal, and in truth, I would have done the same for Oscar.” She confessed. “If anyone can achieve this impossible task, it would be her.”
I nodded, taking a long breath.
I’d told myself that countless times, but I hated the voice that whispered it was an impossible task. That I would lose her.
We stood like that for a long time until I felt familiar eyes land on me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be below deck–sleeping?” I asked.
Inu chuckled and dipped away, leaving me alone with the boy who crept behind us like we wouldn’t see him.
“It’s hard to sleep in the quiet,” he stammered.
I expected that was true. It was a struggle I’d endured recently as well. As terrible as Newgate was, one got used to the constant noise.
“Aren’t you scared to be aboard a pirate ship–on the Sea Wraith of all ships?” I asked.
He shook his head, dry curls bouncing.
“No, sir–Captain. My belly is full, and no one has hit me, and Rose even gave me my own bed. Val says she’s got my back and that you’ll try to scare me off, but not to believe a word you say.”
Amusement pulled at my chest. A man spends a little time in prison, and his ship gets overrun with pirates with soft hearts. Though if I ever said that part aloud, Val would make me regret it.
“You’ll have to work just like everyone else,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him.
He flashed a smile with several missing teeth, and it was a punch to my gut. I’d never seen him smile before. It made sense–there was nothing in Newgate to smile about.
“Yes, Sir!” he beamed.
A boy who has just found a purpose.
Somewhere–wherever the dead rested–Billy was laughing.
“Whenever there is trouble, you go below deck, and you wait for one of us to come get you–do you understand?” I said, voice stern.
He swallowed hard, nodding vigorously.
“Yes, sir, what sort of trouble?” he asked.
“Any,” I said.
And with that, my peaceful melancholy was laid to rest for another night. I turned and found Rose watching us, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
Standing from the table, Rose made her way over. She was breathtaking in tight black pants and a loose dark blue blouse. Lantern light flickering over her skin in a way that made me jealous.
“How grumpy is he tonight, Kit?” she asked with a smile.
Kit wrapped his arms around her waist, and she ruffled his hair. A boy who never knew a friendly touch readily took to a notorious pirate captain in her own right. Maybe his sense of self-preservation was deficient.
“Not as bad as you said he might be,” Kit said.
Rose winked at him. “Always prepare for the worst-case scenario. Now go find Val, and she will show you where we hide the dessert as long as you keep it a secret.”
His eyes widened, and with that, he was barreling toward Val.
“Children don’t belong on ships, Rosamund,” I said.
She met my gaze unflinchingly. “Nor do they belong in prisons or on streets.”
I sighed, knowing I’d already lost this argument days ago, and Val would likely gut me before she gave up her new prodigy. More like, he was now permanently my problem.
Rose slid up against me, hands on my hips.
“Is it so bad to admit you like him?” she asked.
Probably.
“He’s a good kid who was dealt a bad hand,” I said.
“Maybe like someone else I know,” she smiled knowingly.
I snorted. “I was never good, Rosamund.”
“If you say so,” she said.
Silence stretched until she slid herself between me and the railing, a glint in her eyes that bespoke trouble.
“You are brooding. You know, I can think of several other things you could be doing instead,” she purred.
Only her.
She was, as always, entirely singular.
I lifted the hook at the end of my arm and placed it under her chin, forcing her eyes to mine before sliding the cool metal down her neck. She shivered, and my cock responded in equal measure.
“You are getting a little too good with that,” she whispered.
I smiled, bringing my mouth down to her ear.
“I’ll give you a five-second head start, but once I catch you, you will find out just how good I am with it,” I said.
Rose’s eyes widened, and she licked her lips.
“Shit,” she whispered. “That’s really fucking hot.”
I fought back a laugh and instead leaned forward, meeting her bright eyes.
“One,” I said.
She turned and walked with a pace that wasn’t quite running, but certainly wasn’t leisurely. I let my lips curl up and thanked the fucking stars and moon and whatever gods lurked in the skies and seas below that she was mine.