Page 45 of If I Go Down with This Ship

“How are you feeling?”Mick asks, accepting some bread and cheese.

I shrug and take a bite, looking past the bow toward Nassau.I’ll miss land.I don’t fear the water as much as before, but I’ll miss what happened there, the way the night sky, the dim lighting, and the captain’s little sequestered room made me feel almost safe.It reminds me a bit of New York, a place that neversleeps.People arrive in the morning; others arrive at night.They sleep during the day, or later when the torches have been lit.There is no set schedule, no set calendar, just an island for the pirates.

But we haven’t slept for a full day, and though I’m still on edge from the kiss, I’m beginning to feel the dregs of everything, the ache in my muscles, the weight of my eyelids.I want to curl into some dark corner and sleep the day away, but Captain Night is determined to set sail, and I am being run all over the ship to no end.

Is this punishment?I think as I glance at him standing confidently before the helm.He is frowning as he inspects what I can only assume is the scrap of paper from the tavern.He must sense my gaze, because his head whips up, and he spies me across the deck.His lips part like he wants to say something, but he clamps them closed and refocuses on the map.

“Are you sure nothing else happened last night?”Mick asks, brushing away crumbs from his shirt, following my gaze to our captain with a curious expression.

I blink and shake my head, shoving the last of my bread in my mouth.I feel the hickey on my neck like a massive, light-up sign that screams,Look at me!I kissed the captain!

“Nope, nothing,” I say around the mouthful.

I want to tell Mick, to tell someone about the kiss, about the way he makes me feel, but I swallow it down.Even though my relationship with Louise has been strained, I used to tell her about my dating woes.She was with me right after Julian hurt me, when the essay was published and my phone lit up.She appeared at my doorstep with my favorite cider in one hand and chocolate in the other.We’d lie on the floor in our pajamas while she listened to me complain about him, aboutwhat he did to me, how I wasn’t sure I could trust another person like that again.I cried on her shoulder and promised myself I’d never let anyone take advantage of me again.

She coaxed me out of a dark place when I needed someone most.

And though I know next to nothing about the man at the helm, nothing about the person he is aside from his coat and his ship and his crew, I know that he treats me differently.

He is kind tome.

When Captain Night looks at me, he sees all of me.

And he wants,oh, does he want.

Mick frowns but says nothing else.If he senses something has changed, he does not share it.

I hear a strange, shrill scream and turn to watch as Pip and another man lead a goat down the stairs, followed by a cage of chickens.I hum to myself, swiveling to scan the ship as people make their way to their usual posts and the last of the longboats is pulled up.

But I can’t stop my attention from wandering once more to Captain Night.He is a magnet, and my eyes are drawn to him, to his frame, to the way he holds the map and squints.To the way he frowns at nothing in particular.

If I could, I’d stare at him all day.

He’s shucked off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and by god, if there’s something I love more than kissing him, it’s the sight of his forearms.Even from my place at the foremast, the scars on his arms catch my gaze, the black lines of the tattoo snaking up one arm, and the small one on his inner wrist.

Damn him.If he weren’t so kind, if he didn’t treat me better than I deserved, I wouldn’t feel these things.I work my jaw and hop down to the main deck, returning to the lines.I followMick’s careful work as we finish readying the ship.The last of the stores and ammunition have been stowed, and there’s a quiet that seems to settle aboard the ship as everyone makes their way to the main deck.

They must know something I don’t, because they’re all waiting, standing with their feet planted apart, arms over their chests as they look to the helm, to our captain.

Captain Night turns and surveys the ship.He takes in the sails and the crew climbing down on the ratlines.He studies those scattered about the deck, from the riggers and the carpenters to Clancy holding the helm steady and Astra rolling up a map at his side.Our captain looks out to the horizon, to the oranges and pinks of a rising sun that seems to set his skin on fire with its hues.

And I think,O Captain!my Captain!because they—perhaps evenwe—would follow him anywhere.

“Before we leave,” Captain Night calls, his voice booming, “we have some business that needs taking care of.”

The crew waits silently before he goes on.Captain Night crosses the quarterdeck and takes the stairs one at a time, arms clasped behind his back.The way he walks, the way he holds his head, you’d think he’s royalty.And to this crew, he very well may be.

“We lost a lot of our crew,” he continues once he’s reached the mainmast.Captain Night turns, eyes scanning the crowd.“I know there is no greater pain than losing crew, but this next task we’ve been handed, this next thing we must do, it is not for the people we do not trust, and I trust each and every one of you.”His eyes find mine for a moment before they slide next to me to Jack.“While we will not be bringing on any new crew,we have a spot to fill.When we were betrayed, we lost our quartermaster, and it’s about time we vote on our next one.”

The crew cheers, and someone calls out Jack’s name.Another follows, calling the same, and a third, and I think we’re done, that the quartermaster has been chosen, because everyone seems to have called his name, but Jack turns to me.

“You must vote,” he whispers.

“But I’m new,” I say.

Captain Night stops before me, and the butterflies flit around my insides as he stares on patiently.“You’re a part of this crew, now, Laszlo.Your voice matters.”

What those words do to me.