Page 51 of Among the Sins of my Father

“You’re shivering,” he says, his voice deep with slumber. His arm tightens even more. “Don’t worry,” he mumbles. “I’ll keep you warm.”

My chest pounds, my heart beating rapidly. But all Michael does is fall back to sleep. I want to say I can’t sleep in his arms, that the repulsion keeps me awake, but I’m so exhausted, so cold and so tired that I fall to sleep quickly.

I’m shaken awake what feels like only moments later. “Sleep okay?” Michael asks.

For a moment, I think it really was a nightmare, that none of it is true. But then I sit up and my eyes fall to my dress, open and exposed, and the small red welt burned into my skin.

I look up at Michael and blink back tears of anger which he ignores.

“Come on,” he says. “You’ve been cooped up for days. It’s time you got out and about. We’re going to take the boat out today so get ready. Breakfast is in half an hour and then we leave.”

Leaning forward, Michael presses his lips to mine. I don’t respond. My lips are limp and cold and motionless but when Michael pulls away there’s only concern in his expression. “Didn’t sleep too well, huh?” He pats my shoulder before walking over to his dresser and opening a drawer. “Maggie has been shopping. You should find everything you need in here.” He sorts through the clothing and pulls out a few pieces of what I assume is white string. “Here, put this on.” He tosses it to me.

“What is it?” I try to make sense of the tangled mess.

Michael laughs. “A bikini, silly.” He rummages through the drawer some more. “You can wear this over it.”

The outfit is loose and flowing and also see-through. It’s made out of a finely woven white mesh that almost resembles linen. Michael watches as I drop my clothing to the floor and thread the strings of the bikini over my body. I try to act unaffected by his gaze. The triangles of white barely cover my breasts. I try to hold them in place as I tie the string, but they keep slipping. Michael moves behind me, taking control and tying the knots. His hands are hot when he places them on my shoulders. “There,” he whispers in my ear. “All sorted.”

I pull on the wide pants and flowing shirt, tying it at the waist, before pulling on the sandals Michael places on the floor.

“Are you coming down for breakfast?”

I shake my head. I have barely uttered one word to him since last night.

“The water always makes me hungry. You should eat something.”

I turn and walk toward the bathroom.

Michael sighs. “Suit yourself.”

I expected it to be just Michael and me on the boat, maybe a couple of staff, so I’m surprised to find both our fathers already on board.

My father clamps my shoulder and breathes in deeply. “Isn’t it great to be out and about? Nothing quite like fresh salt air.”

“I hope someone sees you and reports you,” I snap.

But my father just laughs. “No one cares out here, my dear.” His gaze falls over my outfit. “Pleased to see you making some effort for the boy. He’s besotted with you, you know. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be trapped in that cell awaiting your training.”

“And if it wasn’t for you, my life wouldn’t be a complete and utter mess,” I reply, lifting my chin and pushing past him.

“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be alive. Remember it’s my blood that flows through those veins, Everly Atterton.”

“Don’t call me that,” I hiss.

He just chuckles. “No matter how hard you try, my dear, you will not be able to wipe the smile from my face today. The only thing that would make this more perfect would be if your mother was here. Do you think she’d come if we invited her?” He laughs loudly. “You should see your face, my girl. It’s priceless.” He keeps laughing as he strides past and joins Mr Gorman at the helm. “All we need now are some playthings on the boat, my friend.”

Mr Gorman shakes his head. “That was always your problem, Sebastian. Too fond of the product. And it was your downfall in the end.”

My father laughs as though the last few years he spent in prison were nothing. “What’s the point of offering the product if you can’t indulge every once and a while?”

“The point is to make money. And to put enough people between you and your business to ensure you are the one never to take the fall. You could learn a thing or two from me, my friend.”

“No talk of business on the water,” Michael interrupts. “That was always the rule. Don’t see why we’re changing it now.”

“Right you are!” Mr Gorman throws his arm around his son. Twin smiles beam back at me. “Let’s get this thing on the water.”

I move to the front of the boat as the men pop the champagne. I don’t know what they’re celebrating, and I don’t care. They grow louder and more raucous the further we go out to sea. I concentrate on the scenery, the way the waves roll away as the bow cuts through the water, the small islands dotted in the blue, the flight of the seagulls overhead. Laughter floats on the breeze. The salt air fills my lungs.

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