by Sara Reinke
* * *
When his tears had waned, Rafe rose to his feet, shrugging away from Claudio and struggling pridefully to compose himself. “I…I am sorry, Claudio,” he said, clearing his throat loudly. “For my disrespect earlier, and for this―my dismay. I appreciate what you have told me about my father…about everything.”
He could not look at Claudio as he spoke. He was ashamed that he had broken so easily, humiliated by his tears. He brushed past the boatswain and headed for his quarters, not wanting any more of the pity he could yet sense in Claudio.
Claudio followed him to the room, but did not cross the threshold behind him. He remained in the doorway, watching wordlessly as Rafe opened his wardrobe and leaned inside, returning the quarterstaff to its customary rear corner.
“We will keep on course,” Rafe said. “I want full sails running from the bowsprit, and this ship into the wind, as fast as she can go. Dump her ballast, if you have to.”
“Rafe…” Claudio began.
“I am not leaving Kitty, Claudio,” Rafe said, his brows furrowed. “You may be right. I may not have failed my father, but I will fail Kitty if I abandon her to that bastard Malik.”
“And if you catch Cristobal?” Claudio asked. “If we find La Venganza, what then? You are not a pirate, Rafe. No matter your rage or determination, or how rightly each is due, that is not within your heart―and you are charting a course that will see you face two of the most ruthless pirates I have ever known. It takes a cold heart to try and murder one’s only brother―and Cristobal has learned all that he knows from Abdul Aziz ben Malik.”
Rafe did not face his friend. He stared into the wardrobe for a long moment, the gravity of Claudio’s words―the truth within them―settling brutally against his heart. He was a physician, not a pirate. How many times had he insisted that to Kitty?
“Can you stand against that, Rafe?” Claudio said. “Can you save the girl from men like these?”
Rafe closed his eyes. “No,” he said at last, shaking his head. “I can’t, Claudio.” He glanced at the boatswain over his shoulder. “But I know someone who can.”