Page 93 of Wicked Tides
“Then I have nowhere.”
When I arrived at the dock where the men were loading themselves into a boat, I saw Meridan’s pale silhouette heading for the Rose. I picked up my thick skirts and stepped toward the edge of the dock when a hand appeared in front of me. I looked up to see Gus offering to help me step down. I swallowed, wondering if he might just pull me onto a blade the moment I accepted his help.
But then… would that be the worst thing?
I slowly placed my hand in his, feeling all of his rough callouses rub against my fingers, and stepped down into the boat. I was gettingstrange looks from all the men, but not hateful ones. Not anymore. I wasn’t sure how to take it.
I sat down and glimpsed Vidar at the head of the boat coiling a long length of rope as the men began to row. It was strange not being in the water with Meridan, but the beckoning from the sons had planted seeds in me that I was not used to feeling. I feared the water now. I’d been afraid of things before, but never like that.
Fearing men and monsters was one thing. Fearing my own madness was another.
When we arrived at the ship, I found that climbing the ladders in a dress was not an easy task. I felt like I was wrapped in kelp. I finally reached the railing to find Vidar there with another helping hand. I hesitated even longer that time, unsure what to do with that kindness. Or whatever he intended it to be. I took his hand nonetheless, swinging a leg over only to get myself even more tangled up in the fabric. I stumbled a bit to get on board and quickly righted myself, pulling my hand out of Vidar’s.
“The girls are below deck putting out their new bedding from Thelasa,” he said. His eyes skimmed over me and my troublesome dress. “No need to wear that here. You’re not trying to impress anyone.”
I stepped away from him with a single nod and waited by the railing as the last of the men boarded. Once the jolly boat was secured, the men all began dispersing to their duties. The sails were dropped. The anchor was raised. Words were exchanged. It was almost another language the way Vidar barked orders, helping with things around the ship to get her prepared to sail.
I made myself scarce, walking to the far end of the deck as men moved about, but no matter where I went or what the men were doing, my eyes found Vidar again and again. He removed his coat almost as soon as he came aboard and he’d rolled the sleeves of his loose, cotton shirt up to his elbows, showing off leather cuffs and jewelry and a forearm tattoo that looked like a tentacled sea beast. I glimpsed theleather bracer laced to his right forearm, securing false fingers where real ones used to be, and was reminded of our brutal past.
But it seemed less significant that day.
He was moving large sacks of beans down into the kitchen. The way he slung one sack over his shoulder and held another in his hand made my blood warm.
How he touched me the previous night still burned on my skin. My lips still tingled and my tongue still tasted of him. It should not have been that way. I had intended—I had hoped—to get what I needed from him and be done with it, but he’d left marks on me. Marks I could still feel. Marks that were not just on the surface where they could be seen.
I’d been foolish. There was not one person in the world that I had ever been truly vulnerable with. Not Meridan or Voel or Kea. Not my mother or my other sisters. And yet some broken part of me sought out Vidar when I was at my weakest and I let him see me stripped to the core.
Pain and punishment had been my salvation before. Guilt followed me like a parasite, choking the will to exist right out of my soul. I craved pain. I needed to hurt for all that I’d done or failed to do. I couldn’t do it myself. Every time I tried, I found I was a coward. A part of me prayed someone else would end it so I did not have to.
And then I saw Vidar on the edge of that lake, the black cloud of sorrow and regret hovering just as thick over his head as it was above mine. I was drawn to it. Admittedly, I sought it out, thinking perhaps if he was just as wounded as I was then he’d be more inclined to do something so outrageous as touching me.
If I could not punish myself, I trusted he could. And he did. I laid myself open to him, stripped of pride, of armor, begging for relief. He was a cruel man and I needed cruel hands to absolve me.
And when he put his hands on me, the sting of agony and the threat of obliteration was as sweet as I imagined it would be. I felt all my hate and torment pouring out of me and relieving the pressure that had been crushing me for so long. Every time his belt met my skin, mytears brought me closer to peace. Every time he squeezed my throat, I found my mind empty of the torturous voices. And when it ended in dizzying pleasure, it was as if something was finally right with me.
Just thinking of it all again sent a chill through me. I shivered as Vidar reemerged from below deck, picking up another load of heavy materials to bring to its rightful place. The chills tickling my skin became heat. A prominent heat that coursed through me, touching all the places it shouldn’t have.
I was falling apart. Glimpsing Vidar’s bracer again reminded me who we were. We were not friends. We were not partners. We were two people who had hurt each other in ways no one could come back from.
Slowly, as Vidar disappeared below deck again, I lifted my fingers to my cheek and gently traced the long scar from the corner of my mouth to my ear.
I couldn’t forget who we were. What we’d done. One night of tormented desire couldn’t change that.
When I saw Meridan’s white figure slink over the railing, naked and soaking wet, I started toward her. The men noticed and I saw sneers on the faces of some, but for the most part, they consciously were looking away. When she saw me approaching, she folded her arms over herself and turned to retreat to our quarters, which was still the holding cell, where she could cover herself up. I followed her, eager to get out of my corseted dress.
The Rose was on its way. Meridan helped me out of my dress so we could get comfortable. She pulled on a thin shift with long sleeves and I slipped into a pair of drawstring pants and a shirt and belt again. By midday, the island was out of view and we were once more in the open ocean. The sea was anything but safe, for siren or man, and the crew had their eyes peeled for anything breaching the surface. Bored, I decided to help and stood out on the foredeck, watching the waves for threats as the hours passed. Unable to stand the light for long, Meridanstayed in the hold, making the space as comfortable as possible using whatever new supplies we were allowed.
When shifts changed, I stayed put, pacing slowly from one place to another until I saw Gus walk out and sit on a water barrel with his pipe.
He glanced at me, but his eyes didn’t linger as he started to blow smoke rings into the breeze. With the sun out and the clouds thin, he seemed to be enjoying the warmth for a while as he rested his old bones. I glimpsed him from time to time, my mind turning. Every now and then, he caught me looking at him and I wondered what he thought of me. I knew Vidar’s father was close to him. I knew the slaughter of his crew had affected him like it did Vidar. I knew he was a hunter like the rest of them, ruthless and fierce despite his frail age.
He probably hated me.
But I was used to being hated.
I turned and started walking in his direction. When he saw me coming, he barely paused smoking his pipe.
“Gus,” I greeted.
