Chapter 7
Fox dragged Gael into their small room by the front of his shirt, planting a needy kiss on his lips as the door slammed closed on the day.
He was tired, exhausted even, from days of chasing the Sweet Lettie.
Then the battle. Then on top of it all, getting his damn leg wound stitched.
It didn’t help that Gael had disappeared to speak with the captains and come back quiet and contemplative.
It wasn’t as fun to ogle Gael’s muscles glistening with sweat if Gael was too distracted to get all blushy when he caught Fox looking.
But fighting always got Fox fired up, and he had one last bit of energy to burn off before he and Gael could fall gratefully into bed. Maybe they should do it standing up tonight, because Fox suspected that as soon as his head hit the pillow he’d be out like a snuffed candle.
Gael’s strong arms wrapped around Fox’s waist, and he returned the kiss almost desperately.
Fox let out a low groan, sweet desire kindling in the pit of his stomach.
He’d never get tired of all the ways Gael could wreck him and put him back together again—and they’d tried many—but it was days like this, when they were both exhausted and satisfied and could come back to their little room on board the Siren Song and make love till they were both spent, or just cuddle and talk till they fell asleep, that made him understand the true depths between them.
Fox let his hand wander lazily down to cup the curve of Gael’s ass, wondering who would get to have who tonight.
Gael broke the kiss.
“Fox.” It wasn’t the breathless call of a lover; his tone was serious. Fox pulled back, eyes searching his angular face.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” Gael hadn’t been hurt, had he? Surely he would have said something.
“John asked me to be his first mate,” Gael blurted. Fox’s hands dropped to his sides. “I didn’t say yes,” Gael added hastily. His arms tightened around Fox’s waist, as if afraid Fox would pull away.
“So why’re you telling me then?” Fox asked. His voice came out small, and he resisted the urge to clear his throat.
“Because I want to say yes. But I wanted to talk to you first.”
Confusion warred in Fox’s mind. He pushed gently out of Gael’s arms and went to sit on the edge of the bed. Gael followed and sat beside him. He waited in silence for Fox to say something.
“Are you not happy here?” Fox picked at a hangnail.
Gael took his hands gently, stopping the small act of self-destruction.
“Of course I am, Foxy. I’m happy to be wherever you are.
Just…John is going to need someone trustworthy by his side, and I want to prove that I’m good for more than just fighting.
” He leaned a little closer, and Fox looked up.
Gael’s expression was so tender, so earnest and open.
“I know this is your home. I promised I wouldn’t leave you, so I’m asking you to come with me.
But I won’t go if you ask me not to. I’ll tell John no. ”
Leave the Siren Song? The only home he’d known since he was a twenty-year-old kid. The only home he’d ever had in his life that was stable and full of people who cared about him.
“I…I can’t leave Rowan.” Curious. He’d meant to say the Siren, but this was true as well. Rowan had saved his life. Rowan had brought him here. Rowan had stayed by his side and guided him out of the lowest point in his life. Without him, Fox would have ended up dead in some back alley long ago.
A flicker of sadness crossed Gael’s features.
“I understand. I’ll tell John no.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t go.”
It was as if he’d stuck his hand right between Gael’s ribs and squeezed his heart. Gael looked lost for a moment.
“W-what are you saying?” Gael managed to choke out. He sounded on the verge of tears, and Fox suddenly realized what his words had sounded like.
“That’s not what I meant!” he blurted. He snatched his hands from Gael’s grip to cup Gael’s face instead. “I only meant you should go, and I should stay. No. That sounds bad too. Shit.” He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to piece the words together. Gael’s hand came up to rest over Fox’s.
“I only meant,” Fox said slowly when he reopened his eyes, “that if this is something you need to do, I won’t stop you. I still want you. I still love you. As long as you come back to me, as long as it’s not forever, you should go.”
The breathless heartbreak eased, replaced by grateful affection.
“Are you sure?” Gael asked.
Fox put on a smile, despite his heart performing death-defying acrobatics in his chest. The thought of being without Gael for even a day filled him with dread. But… “I have to learn to be without you sometimes.”
They’d reunited nearly two years ago, and in the beginning, Fox had panicked whenever he’d woken and Gael wasn’t there.
He’d relived the worst day of his life. But slowly, waking up next to the love of his life morning after morning, every day a reassurance that he was loved and would never be abandoned again, had caused that panic to recede into the background.
Gael was now able to come and go as he pleased in the mornings with little fear that Fox would become a blubbering mess because of it.
Sometimes the panic returned; Fox never really knew what might trigger it.
Maybe the angle of the light as his hand searched the other side of the bed in vain.
Maybe cold sheets on his fingertips. Maybe nothing at all.
The point was, he was getting better, and he couldn’t continue living in fear. He couldn’t keep Gael locked up in a cage of the past. He had to let Gael go, for a little while at least.
Gael kissed Fox’s palm.
“You don’t have to learn if you don’t want to.”
“I do want to.” Fox smiled. “But maybe just for a season at first? See how it goes?”
“Deal.”
Exhaustion dragged at Fox’s consciousness now that the adrenaline of Gael’s kisses, then confession, had worn off. He blinked slowly and leaned forward to plant a kiss on Gael’s cheek. Gael smiled, cheek dimpling beneath Fox’s lips.
“You look sleepy.” Gael gathered Fox into his lap, then flopped back onto the bed, dragging Fox down with him. Fox nuzzled into his chest, fingers tracing the scar beneath Gael’s shirt. It still pained him sometimes, the muscles beneath never healing quite right.
“Don’t let John work you too hard,” Fox murmured.
“Of course. I have to come back in good shape for you. Who else can keep up with you?”
Fox’s giggle turned into a sigh of contentment, tiredness making his body heavy, dragging his eyelids closed. Gael’s warmth wrapped around him, a safe cocoon in the uncertain world.
Henri didn’t look up from his book as Robin entered their room.
He could tell by the way Robin’s feet dragged that he was exhausted, from both the day’s work and from seeing his brother again after all this time.
How long had it been? Three years that Robin had been away from the harsh judgment of his family.
Three years in which he had slowly learned that he was not broken, not unnatural, not wrong.
Yet when faced with his brother again, Robin couldn’t admit that he and Henri were together.
“Hey, love,” Robin greeted him quietly, toeing off his boots. Henri grunted in response, turning the page even though his eyes couldn’t focus on the words. Robin moved further into the room, doing all the usual things he did when he got home. Henri didn’t move.
“Henri?”
Henri shifted where he sat on a thin cushion atop his sea chest. He could imagine the way Robin’s brow furrowed beneath his fluffy fringe. Henri usually read stretched out on their bed, either with Robin tucked safely in his arm or waiting for him to be.
Today he didn’t feel like it. If Robin couldn’t acknowledge their relationship, he could do without the warmth that came with it.
“You okay?” Robin stepped closer in Henri’s peripheral vision, and Henri nodded without looking up. The words on the page blurred but his eyes were dry. He was simply unfocused, adrift in his thoughts.
Robin pushed a small stack of penny novels to the side and plopped down next to him.
Henri’s gaze focused on the books. His collection grew with every port they stopped in and every ship they robbed.
He liked the romances the best, though most of them only depicted relationships between men and women.
Robin stared at him, waiting to be acknowledged, but Henri ignored him.
Instead he tried to return to the book. People were always surprised when they learned he could read.
Most pirates—hell, most commoners—in the Islands couldn’t.
His maman had taught him as a child, and he’d always loved stories of all kinds.
But he’d stopped reading when he left home after her death, and hadn’t picked up a book again until he’d found a penny novel about pirates and princesses in the library at Illusion.
“Henri,” Robin said again, and there was such worry in his voice that Henri instinctively looked up. Robin swallowed nervously. He gripped Henri’s book with a gentle hand and slowly lowered it to his lap. “Talk to me?”
Robin might be an educated man, but right now he was being painfully obtuse. Wasn’t it obvious why Henri was upset? Why should he have to tell him?
Obstinance itched in Henri’s chest.
“Nothing, just tired.”
“Let’s go to bed then.” Robin’s fingers moved from the book to caress Henri’s wrist, but Henri twitched away. If Robin would deny their relationship, it felt wrong to let him touch him.
“There’s something wrong,” Robin insisted. “Please tell me.” His handsome face was so open, so worried.
Henri looked away, carefully marking his page with a scrap of paper and returning his book to the stack. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, letting the urge to be argumentative ebb away before he spoke.
“Are we not together?” His voice came out small, but no less accusatory.
“What?” Robin grabbed his hand. “Of course we are. What are you talking about?”
Henri didn’t snatch his hand back this time. Despite being the source of this hurt, Robin’s touch was still comforting. He raised his gaze to look Robin in the eye.
“I’m talking about David. You hid our relationship from him.”
Understanding crept into Robin’s soft hazel eyes. His lips parted as if he didn’t know what to say, or how he could defend himself. They both stayed silent for a moment, staring at each other.
“I-I’m sorry,” Robin said quietly after a moment. “I didn’t notice.”
That lit a spark of anger in the kindling of Henri’s hurt. Robin hadn’t noticed? He’d been about to say it when they were first introduced, yet course corrected and called Henri by name instead.
“Bullshit,” Henri said, and Robin had the nerve to look startled. “You let him call us deviants. He thinks you’re a prisoner. You could have corrected him at any time.” He’d had so many opportunities to tell his brother about them, yet he hadn’t.
Robin’s expression hardened slightly. “He is a prisoner. It makes sense that he would think I’m the same. And you know what? He’s not wrong. I was essentially a prisoner on the Kraken till the captain forgave my debt.”
“You made a deal with him so you wouldn’t have to go back to your terrible family!” Henri shouted. He snatched his hand back from Robin’s hold, and Robin didn’t stop him. He only bit his lip, and slouched back against the stack of books.
“They’re not terrible,” he said quietly.
Henri couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t know the exact details of Robin’s past, but he knew this much, that his family had treated him horribly under the guise of love. They’d tried to force him into a marriage he didn’t want.
“They drove you out of your own home,” Henri argued.
He knew the futility of it even as he said it.
Robin was a gentle soul, and no matter how badly his family had treated him, he still loved them.
And maybe somewhere deep down, he still believed them.
Dread churned in Henri’s belly, and he stood up, desperate not to stay still.
Silent tears tracked down Robin’s cheeks, and he didn’t seem able to look Henri in the eye.
“Sorry,” was all he could say.
“Are you going to tell him?” Henri asked. He didn’t know why it hurt so bad that Robin’s brother didn’t know about them. Maybe he wanted revenge on Robin’s behalf. Wanted them to know that Robin was unapologetically happy with a man, despite how they had tried to stifle him.
“I don’t see the point,” Robin said quietly.
Despite Henri’s hurt, seeing Robin upset pulled at his heartstrings, and he wanted to wrap the taller man up in his arms and comfort him.
But he stayed standing, his fists clenched at his sides.
“If Davy knows about us he’ll just be mad.
And he’ll try even harder to make me leave and…
” He dropped his face into his hands, as if it was all too much to say out loud.
“So are you going home, then?” Robin had never wanted this life. Henri knew that well enough.
Robin’s head snapped up, teary hazel eyes wide. “No! Of course not!”
“Then why are you so afraid of him knowing? If you have no plans to go back, who cares if they know?” Henri cared. He wanted them to know.
“I care!” Robin exclaimed, then his mouth snapped shut, as if he hadn’t meant to say it.
So that was the truth of it. Robin still believed what they’d always taught him. Maybe he still believed he could go home like nothing had ever happened.
“You care because you’re ashamed,” Henri spat, feeling hypocritical even as he said it.
Robin recoiled as if he’d been slapped. Henri bit his lip to keep the reflexive apologies at bay.
He shouldn’t have let it get this far. He never wanted to raise his voice to Robin.
But the fear that Robin would turn his back on him stoked the flames of his anger higher.
Silence stretched between them, punctuated only by Robin’s sniffles. Henri dug his nails into his palms to keep from reaching for him, soothing his hurt and saying it was all okay just to make him feel better. Because the truth was, it wasn’t okay.
Henri took another step back. He hadn’t realized before, but he harbored a deep hatred for Robin’s family. They didn’t deserve this sweet, doting man who only wanted to help people and give love. They didn’t deserve the love he still held for them.
“They don’t love you,” he whispered. “Not like I do.”
Robin sniffled again and Henri stepped toward the door, slipping his feet into his boots as he went.
“I’m gonna sleep somewhere else.”
“Henri, wait—”
Henri was already out the door.