by Bella Jewel
“Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I hear Dimitri’s voice, and I stand quickly, spinning around with the gun raised. It’s not exactly what I planned on doing, but now that it’s in the air and his eyes are wide, I realize it may have just been the right choice. My hands tremble, not because I can’t shoot this gun, but because I know what I have to shoot at.
“You’re going to shoot me?” Dimitri says, his voice solid. “Why? Because you can’t handle the truth?”
“You,” I snarl, “are the one who can’t handle the truth.”
“Your truths mean nothing to me,” he barks.
“Because you know they’re right, perhaps?” I whisper.
“If you want to shoot me, Jessica, then shoot me—but before you do, know this: I am doing what I have to do to get my dignity back. It was stripped a long time ago. I don’t expect you to understand—how could you? You’ve never been the child nobody wants. You’ve never had to fight for your life. You’ve never lived through what I’ve lived through. I lived through it because of him. Your words will never change that, and in your mind, you know that.”
My hand is shaking now, and my lips are quivering.
“So if you’re going to shoot me then do it and hurry it up. I don’t have time to waste with pathetic little girls pretending they know how to shoot guns, who don’t have the slightest clue what it’s like to live in the hard world.”
I open my mouth and my words are flowing out before I get the chance to stop them. “I do know what it’s like to be the child nobody wants. I know because my parents died when I was just four years old. They left me alone and orphaned. I was shoved through the foster system until one day I was set with a permanent family. My foster father started raping me when I was twelve years old. I wasn’t even old enough for my first fucking period—which, by the way, is all I wanted you for. I have my period and I needed help.” I shake my head, stopping the tears, refusing to look at him. “By the time I was sixteen, I’d had enough. I hid a knife under my pillow. When he came in, and he was inside me, pounding my innocence out, I lifted my knife and I stabbed him so many times his face was unrecognizable. I killed him. I ran and somehow ended up on the wharf. Hendrix was there. He saved me from a life of jail and abuse. So, the man you know and the man I know are two very different people.”
He’s staring at me and, oh God, his expression.
I aim the gun and shoot it just close enough that it grazes past his head. He flinches, but his eyes don’t move from mine.
“And if I wanted to shoot you, Dimitri, I could. Easily. That’s what pathetic girls with no idea do when they’re stuck on a pirate ship because their life and freedom have been snatched from them.” I throw the gun on the floor and I turn, walking off. When I reach the door, I twist back and mutter, “Oh, and by the way, my birth name is Blair. Just Blair. It’s not overly beautiful or special but it’s the only thing left in my life that I can call mine.”
My entire body is numb.
So is my heart.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jess
I hate crying, it makes me feel weak. I gave up any weakness I had in my life a long time ago. I don’t have time for weak, I only have time for here and now. I’m trying to remind myself that I am better than this, braver even. It’s not working. My hands are trembling, my lip is quivering, and I’ve got my period, which, mind you, is just putting icing on the cake.
I hear the door squeak open. I don’t look up.
Why bother?
I hear shuffling and I feel a presence in front of me. I slowly lift my tear-filled gaze and see Dimitri standing in front of me. He’s got a handful of . . . is that tampons? If I weren’t so broken, I’d probably laugh at the image of this big, beautiful man with a handful of pink floral tampons. He stretches his hand out, pushing them toward me. I reach up, my fingers still trembling. I take them from him, grateful.
“Th-th-th-thank you.”
His eyes are empty; he looks so . . . sad.
He nods and turns, walking back to the door. When he reaches it, he stares over his shoulder at me. He hesitates for a moment, his face tight with emotion. He wants to say something, but he’s clearly debating whether it’s worth it. With a deep, defeated sigh he finally speaks.
“I had . . . I had no idea that you had such a hard life,” he murmurs. “It’s hard to tell when you’re so put together, so brave. I envy your strength. It’s something I lack.”
My eyes fill with tears and for a while he stares at them. Then, without any words, he turns and walks out.
Breaking my heart all over again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dimitri
My chest hurts.
It fucking hurts.
It feels like someone has reached in and torn my heart into a thousand tiny pieces. Everything up until this exact moment in my life is now a blurred mess. I thought I was the way I am because of the incidents that happened in my life. Then I found out about her. She’s had an equally hard life, yet she’s so focused on fixing things, so focused on making herself a good person.
Where did I lose that?
Revenge is all I’ve breathed for the past ten years. Now she’s making me question my sanity. She’s making me question everything I am. I’ve never, not for one second, questioned if I was doing the right thing. In my mind, it was and is the right thing. People who cause other people pain and suffering should have the same in return.
I grip the side of the ship, panting. Is it weakness? Is that why I’ve not turned out the way she did? Am I too consumed with myself to see beyond that? I envy her; my entire body aches with it. She’s managed to pull herself out of a situation and create inner peace for herself. She’s given herself the one thing I’ve been searching for, for as long as I’ve breathed.
Peace.
Never, in my wildest dreams, did I ever think one woman would change everything I’ve worked so hard for within the space of ten minutes.
Where the fuck do I go from here?
Jess
I step up onto the deck and I see him, standing in the corner, gripping the railings so hard his fingers look like they’re straining. I take a step toward him, not fully understanding why I’m even here. He’s cruel, and awful, and . . . shit . . . he’s broken. If anyone understands broken, it’s me. I walk over quietly. He’s hanging his head, his long, thick hair falling over his face.
My heart breaks a little more for him.
I reach out when I get to him, and with trembling fingers I put my hand on his shoulder. Everything moves quickly after that. He spins around so fast I’m sent stumbling back until I land on my backside. I cry out as a sharp pain shoots up my spine. I forget the pain in an instant, though, when I lay my eyes on Dimitri. His fist is raised, but it’s not in anger. He’s . . . oh God . . .
He’s scared.
The minute he realizes what he’s done, his fist lowers and his face goes back to that mask he wears so well. But it’s too late. I saw it. I saw the fear in his eyes. For a brief second, he thought I was someone else and when I laid my hand on him, it did something to him. He was frightened. Whatever happened to Dimitri, it was bad. It was bad enough that he can’t stand to be touched, and it’s not out of repulsion or memories, it’s out of pure fear.
It hurts him in the depths of his soul to be touched without permission.
“I . . .” he begins, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, putting my hands down by my sides and pushing myself up. I get to my feet, but I keep a good distance between us.
“It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have snuck up on you.”
We stare, so much passing between us.
“How did you do it?”
I shake my head, confused. “Do what?”
“Move past the hatred.”
I smile, but it’s pathetic and weak. “I didn’t move past it, Dimitri. I just learned how to keep it from consuming me.”
He drops
his eyes and then turns and stares back at the ocean.
“I can’t do that.”
“Because you don’t believe you can.”
His body stiffens and he turns. “I’m tired. We’re docking tomorrow at an island. I suggest you get rest.”
Then he turns and leaves me.
Is the thought of facing all of this really that hard for him?
Oh.
Wow.
The island we’re on is stunning. No, that doesn’t even cover it. I’ve been on a few islands with Hendrix but this one . . . it outdoes them all. The sand isn’t yellow, it’s white. A fine, soft white that almost hurts your eyes to look at if the sun is facing in the right direction. The waves crashing against it are a crystal clear blue, so much so I can see everything that’s beneath the water.
The trees are tall and green, surrounded by tiny shrubs that seem to be hugging each of them. There’s a long, thin stream running from one end of the island to the other. I know, because I went for a walk the moment we got here. On the far-east end, there are some massive cliffs. I’m not about to go near them alone.
We’ve set up camp in a small clearing, using the trees to pitch our tents. It’s getting to be quite cool of an evening, so we need shelter more than anything. Of course, we have the ship if all else fails, though I imagine, like me, nobody wants to be on the ship when they’ve got this paradise to be on. It’s places like these that stop us from going crazy after weeks out on the water.
The pirate life is hard, but there are times it’s also free. A big part of me will always belong to the ocean, to the freedom, to the family I created, but the other part of me desperately seeks life on the land. A life where I can just be me. But I have no doubt that if that day were to come, I’d miss the ocean. It would be hard not to.
“Where’s Dimi?” Livvie asks, stopping beside me.
I’m sitting on the edge of the stream letting my feet run through the water. The moment I hear her voice, I sigh. She’s a bratty, annoying woman, and there is absolutely no reason I can see that Dimitri could find anything about her interesting. Except maybe her boobs.
“How am I supposed to know?” I mutter.
“He’s been gone for hours.”
“And?”
“Well, you’re always following him around.”
I roll my eyes. I’m not getting into this with her. I know what she’s doing and I’m not going to play that game.
“Well, I’m not with him so go and find him yourself.”
She huffs and walks off. I sigh in pure relief. Three seconds with that girl has me wanting to stab my own eye with whatever blunt instrument I can find. I turn my focus back on the cool water when I hear shuffling beside me. I look over my shoulder to see Luke. God, I just can’t escape.
“Where is Dimitri?”
“What the hell am I? An information center?”
He raises a brow, shaking his head.
“I don’t know!” I cry, throwing my hands up. “I haven’t seen him.”
“He’s been gone for hours, no one can find him.”
I stand, growling. “I’ll go find him, because it seems awfully clear to me none of you are going to do it.”
“I just thought you might know. I’m not going to look for him.”
I shake my head with a loud, exasperated sigh. “Why ask then?”
“I told you,” he says simply. “I thought you might know.”
I shake my head, stomping off into the thick, damp trees.
“Where are you going?” he yells.
“To find your boss.”
“He probably doesn’t want to be found.”
“Too fucking bad,” I mumble under my breath.
I begin to panic when I’ve been searching for two hours and there’s no Dimitri. Granted, he could be back at camp and calling a search to find me now, but I can’t risk that. I’ve reached the cliffs, after searching everywhere else for him. The sun is going to set in a matter of hours and it’s getting cold. I take a deep breath and steel myself before climbing up and over the rocks.
I press my hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun so I can get a better view. Then I see him. He’s sitting on a rock, head dropped, leg raised on a rock beside his foot. I’d say he was just sulking until I see that he’s got blood on his leg. He’s hurt. Without giving it a second thought, I rush toward him. It takes me a solid ten minutes because of all the rocks.
“Dimitri?” I say when I reach him.
He turns and looks at me; he looks shocked for a second. Like he expected someone else.
“Didn’t think you’d be the one to show up,” he mutters.
I knew I should have been a mind-reader.
“Everyone else was going to let you have space—aren’t you lucky I’m smart enough to ignore them?”
His pained blue eyes meet mine, and he reminds me of a broken, sore puppy. He looks so . . . God, so depressed. I kneel down beside him and stare down at his leg. He’s got a deep gash that’s still bleeding quite well. His ankle is bruising too.
“What happened?”
“Slipped.”
“Well, thanks for the detailed explanation. Can you walk?”
He looks sharply at me. “Would I be sitting here if I could walk?”
“All right, smart ass,” I say, my voice sarcastic. “If you want my help, you better stop being so rude or I’ll leave you here.”
He doesn’t answer for a second.
“What the hell is someone your size going to do?”
I stand and put my hands on my hips. “I’ll have you know I’m quite explosive. I might be tiny, but boy do I bang—”
His lips twitch and when I realize how my words sound, I flush.
“I mean, go off with a bang.”
That wasn’t any better.
Now he’s nearly smiling at me. God. So beautiful.
“Wh-whatever,” I stammer. “Are you going to let me help you or not?”
“We’ll never get back to the camp in time,” he points out.
“Maybe, but sitting up here is stupid. You’ll freeze.”
He stares at me again. “What’s your plan?”
I tilt my head, shocked that he’s actually going to let me help him.
“Well, firstly, I have to put something on that gash. Which means you’re going to have to let me touch you.”
His body stiffens. “Hurry it up,” he manages to grind out.
I nod and think about the best thing I can put on his leg. He needs to stop the bleeding. I stare at what he’s wearing. Jeans, boots—well, one boot now—and a tight black T-shirt. I’d love to tell him to take that T-shirt off but I’m wearing something far more logical. A long—ish—dress. I lean down and press my fingers around on the ground until I find a sharp rock, then I shove it into my dress, tearing it. Once I have a small tear, I use both of my hands to rip a strip off.
It doesn’t quite go as planned. Granted, I strip, but I also take half of my dress with it. I realize my panties are showing, and so are my horrible lily white legs. Great. I feel my cheeks go pink and I refuse to look at Dimitri as I kneel. Before I touch him, I look up. He’s staring at me with that look again. That gorgeous, lusty, intense look.
“I know it doesn’t mean anything and it won’t change that this will be uncomfortable for you, but I need you to know I would never hurt you, Dimitri. Never.”
His eyes soften and he narrows them, staring at me as though he just can’t figure me out. I give him a weak smile and reach down, gently taking his ankle. He flinches and when I take a moment to peek at him, his jaw is tight and his eyes are closed. Poor man. I focus back on what I’m doing. I fasten the thickest part over the gash and then tie it tightly. When I’m done, I pat his knee softly and he opens his eyes.
“All done. You did good.”
I stand and stare around, needing one more thing. I see a group of thick branches that have fallen from a tree nearby. I climb a few rocks until I reach them. I sort through th
em until I find a thick enough one that Dimitri can use to lean on as he walks. I take it back to him, and hold it out.
“It’s now or never, soldier.”
Oh, his eyes are all light and gorgeous again.
“What is the stick for?”
“Hate to break it to ya,” I say casually, leaning on it. “But you’re going to have to let me help you walk back. This is going to assist in our mission.”
He quirks a brow. “Go on . . .”
“You’ll hold the stick, see?” I say, demonstrating. “While your arm is around my shoulder. Together, the stick and I will help you back.”
He’s already shaking his head. “No, I’m six foot of muscle and you’re . . .”
“What?” I challenge.
“You’re tiny.”
“Remember what I said about explosives?”
He shakes his head. “The stick will be fine.”
“No,” I say, holding it away from him when he reaches for it. “It won’t be.”
“Jessica, give me the stick.”
“I shall not.”
He drops his head and grumbles something before lifting it and trying again. “Give. Me. The. Stick.”
“Do you want to die, Dimitri?”
“That’s a stupid question.”
I shake my head, twirling the stick with my fingertip. “No, it’s quite logical given that you could get an infection, or make it worse by leaning on it, so, I ask again, do you want to die?”
“What do you think?”
“Well, from what I’ve guessed, no. But you never know. Being that you’re all ‘doom and gloom, must seek revenge’ . . . and all that.”
He rolls his eyes. “Do you ever stop talking?”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“No,” he grinds out. “I don’t want to die.”
“Good-O, then stand up and let me help you. If you don’t, you’ll stay up here and freeze or bleed to death. It’s up to you.”
He glares at me for a solid minute, but he does get to his feet. He’s got his sore ankle off the ground, so I step forward and hand him the stick. He uses it to support his weight and I step closer, nudging my shoulder into his side.