I say nothing. It’s not over. Above us, on the deck, things have quieted down. A thump directly above us sounds like a body hitting the deck. I’m hoping it’s one of theirs, not one of ours. A lack of running feet confirms this.
“Let’s go.” That’s all I can tell her over the drumbeat of anger and relief and shame. This is why men like me don’t let themselves get involved with people like Ashley. Other people’s lives are on the line.
I carry her up to the deck. Rain falls steadily now, mixing with the fresh blood. Little rivers run down the deck, to the stairs. Nicholas is back down where I can see him. He gives me a signal—the rest of them are dead. The guy who tried to surrender is on his back in a pool of blood. He must’ve changed his mind.
I don’t give a fuck.
Nicholas abandons whatever he’s doing to come clear a path for me. My ship is taller than this one, so Nicholas stands on the railing and grabs hold of ours. It brings the two of them into alignment enough for me to lift Ashley over.
I want this thing at the bottom of the ocean.
“Orders?” Nicholas calls up to me. He’s worried for Ashley. I can see that on his face.
He should be worried.
“Search the ship. Find the pearl.”
I turn away from the railing. “Then what?” Nicholas asks.
“Sink it.”
20
Ashley
Poseidon wraps me in warm blankets, layers and layers of them, and makes me sit on the edge of his bed while I warm up.
It takes a long time to stop shaking. It takes a long time to get my breathing under control. What helps, strangely, is to listen to the sounds of the ship. The rock of it in the ocean. The bump it makes when it moves gently against the other ship. After a while, people start coming onboard again, and I can feel their footsteps on the deck in tiny vibrations.
Poseidon sits in the chair next to the bed and watches me.
At first, I think he’s being dispassionate because it was such a close call. Because he’s worried about me. It was bad, what happened, but I’m not going to fall to pieces yet. I don’t want to. I’m wrung out from all the crying, and all of my skin is so sensitive that the lived-in blankets feel rough.
But then the silence starts to wear on me.
I take a few last, deep breaths before I break it. “I think you should take me home. At least to the U.S., anyway. If you drop me off anywhere in the country, I know I can get a flight.”
Poseidon narrows his eyes. They’re the color of storm clouds over the ocean, a deep blue lit up by fire, and I don’t like what I see there. It’s not the same man who was here before this last escape. There’s nothing playful or sexy or greedy about him. Every part of him is held away from me. Apart from me.
“My daddy will pay. I know he will. He probably already has.”
“Your daddy.” His mouth curls. “You think I care that your daddy will wire me money when he gets around to it? I don’t fucking care about that. I have money.”
He doesn’t say princess.
All at once, like a thunderclap, I recognize his expression, the vicious set of his muscles, for what it is. My body startles involuntarily inside the cocoon of blankets. “Are you mad at me?”
“Mad?” A mean smile crosses his face like the curve of a dagger. “I’m fucking furious with you. And you’re going to pay.”
“I know I’m going to pay. My dad will give you any amount you want, and if you want more because I was reckless, then he’ll give you that too. All you have to do is—”
“Not him. You. You’re going to pay. And you’re going to do it right now.” His deadly, even tone is a thousand times more terrifying than a shout would have been. “And do you know why? Because you crossed a fucking line when you left me. You put everyone on this ship into a situation they might not have walked out from, and all so you could live out some little rich-girl fantasy. Nobody does that to my crew. Nobody does that to me. Nobody.”
“I’m sorry.” Guilt hammers itself through my heart. “I know. It was bad. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“But you did. And now you’re going to learn about the consequences for putting my people at risk.”
“I didn’t mean—”
He silences me with a hand in the air. “Nicholas.”
Nicholas pushes open the door to Poseidon’s quarters. He’s been waiting for this moment. My stomach freezes. The scratches between my thighs sting with the cold. I pull the blankets tighter around me.
And then I see what Nicholas is holding.
A length of rope.
I can’t move.
Poseidon stands up and pulls me to my feet. The first layer of blankets falls to the floor. He reaches for the others, and I pull back an inch. “This isn’t fair.” My voice is high and scared and the worst version of me, the version of me with no sense of how dangerous her actions are, with no sense of any real consequences. I’m not that person. I try not to be that person. “This isn’t fair, what you’re doing.”
“No, it’s not fucking fair, but that’s how shit goes when you’re the captain. You make the rules.”
The crew is in the hall. I see them now. They’re mostly in shadow, but I can see them. Poseidon takes advantage of me looking out at them for help to strip away the rest of the blankets.
I’m naked underneath, and I feel it for the first time. There’s no heat in his eyes, no sense of play, and fear is a pair of cement shoes. If it weren’t for the floor of the ship, they’d take me all the way down.
Poseidon puts a hand on my elbow and takes me to the door. Jason is outside, and the cook, and there are others. All people I’ve talked to. They’re careful to keep their eyes up while we move past.
“Don’t do this,” Jason calls as we’re climbing the stairs. “She didn’t know what she was doing.”
“She knew,” answers Poseidon. He doesn’t slow down.
At the top of the steps, the rest of the crew is waiting, but they give us a lot of space. Most of them look down at the deck. Their faces are drawn and scared. They must be mirrors of mine. My palms are slick with sweat, my chest aching with new terror and shame. Naked. I’m naked in front of all these men, and I have no idea what Poseidon’s going to do.
We stop in front of the mast.
It doesn’t have rigging, as Jason explained to me once when I was bothering him between swimming lessons. It’s actually a communications tower meant to make this look like a sailing ship. My mind slips into that conversation again. It’s better than standing out here in spitting rain.
“Tie her,” Poseidon says.
The cook pushes his way between me and the mast, both hands up. “A trade,” he says.
“No.”
“Hear me out on it.” I have never seen the cook look afraid. I’ve made him laugh exactly three times. I’ve made him smile six times. Now his mouth is drawn down, his eyes wide. “I’ll keep her in the brig. You won’t have to look at her. Don’t do this.”
Poseidon doesn’t pause to consider it. “Get out of the way.”
“All my savings,” the cook says. “Yours.”