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I’m sitting in his lap, my back pressed against his chest. His head cranes around my neck to see my hands while he puts some sort of salve on them.
“Oh.” I sigh in contentment.
“Bet that feels better.”
He lets the salve stay on my wrists for a few minutes before applying some more. Then he wraps bandages over my raw, ripped skin.
I try to think only about breathing. Not the pain or ache. Just breathe. Riden’s done. Yet he continues to sit here, holding me. It’s quiet for some time.
“I’m sorry. I had no idea he’d let you hang for so long.”
“If I remember correctly, you’re the one who suggested hoisting me up there.”
“It was a means of persuading you to do as the captain wanted. I expected you to agree to the chores before the rope was even hung. You weren’t supposed to be stubborn.”
“You should have known better,” I say.
“Yes, I should have. I’m truly sorry.”
For some reason his apology frustrates me. Levelly, I say, “If you’re sorry, that means you want forgiveness. Is that what you’re asking for?”
He’s silent. I speak again before he can answer. “If you want forgiveness, that means you want to make things right. And if you want to make things right, that means that you don’t intend to put me in harm’s way again. So, if you are saying you’re sorry, I don’t think you understand what that entails.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he says.
“Of course you had a choice, Riden. You just had a hard one. And you chose the easy option, which was to do nothing.”
“Easy? Do you think it was easy for me to watch you? Seeing you up there, knowing the pain you must be in, it… it made me feel—it would have hurt less if I had been the one hanging. I hated myself for what happened. And the only way I could punish myself was to force myself to watch you in pain. That was my punishment.”
Riden starts stroking my hair. I’m tempted to let the conversation drop, to sink farther into his embrace and sleep. But despite how he’s taking care of me now, I’m still furious with him.
“What a nice sentiment,” I say. “But words only mean something when backed up with actions. Even if all you say is true, you’re too cowardly to ever do what you want to do. And it seems to me that until you break away from your brother, you won’t be able to do anything at all.”
The hand at my hair stills. “That’s rich coming from you. You’re serving a tyrant, a man who basically has control over the entire world. We’re pirates. Not politicians. Our sort weren’t meant to rule. There needs to be order so we can disrupt it. If there’s no order in the first place, then where does that leave us? The world has changed in recent years. And you’ve chosen to help it change. Not for the better. Our choices are to die out or join the pirate king. Why do you serve Kalligan? So that Papa will love you?”
“You don’t know anything about me or my father. You should stop pretending otherwise. Now, let me go.” I try to pull away, but he holds me more securely.
“No.”
“Let me go. I don’t want you touching me. You disgust me.”
“Lass, you’re too weak to force me. Let me take care of you for now. It’s all I can do for you, so let me do it. You may think you have me all figured out, but you don’t. I’ve got my own reasons for wanting Draxen to succeed. We need you. It’s for the best. Letting you dangle over the deck never should have happened. I will do what I can to ensure your safety, if you can promise to stop being so damn stubborn.”
I don’t want to talk to him anymore, so I pretend to be asleep.
He huffs quietly. “Might as well tell a fish not to swim.”
Chapter 10
FORTHESECONDTIMEI awake in Riden’s arms.
He’s still asleep, and I like that I’m allowed to stare at his face for as long as I want. Full lips, straight nose, a scar that recedes into his hairline on the left side of his face. That must have been quite the hit to the head. I wonder if his father did it. Riden never seems to want to talk about his father. Might be because of how his father treated him, or it might be because Riden killed him. Maybe both.
He stirs then. I quickly look down at my wrists so as not to be caught staring. Suddenly, I’m overcome with the urge to rip the bandages off.
Riden’s hand shoots out, grasping right below the injury on my right wrist. “Not yet. Keep those bandages on. You need to keep your wounds clean for a while.”
“It itches something fierce.”
