Chapter 38 Dawn's Betrayal
For one disoriented moment, the phantom chill of saltwater filled my lungs, and the suffocating darkness of the deep pressed in. My chest seized, a vise grip tightening around my heart. The acrid tang of brine and raw panic coated my tongue. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, each beat a painful thud. It was just a dream, but waking was no solace; the silence of the room echoed the dream's isolation. I didn't need to reach out to confirm his absence; the icy, empty expanse of the sheets beside me was a stark, cold testament. I had been alone for hours.
The place where Fisk had slept held only the ghost of heat now, a hollow pressed into the mattress, the blanket twisted where his body had anchored mine through the night. I stared at it too long, stupidly wounded by an absence no one had promised to fill.
The sudden and unmistakable aroma of Leather, Salt, and Smoke filled my nose, I turned towards him.
He stood at the foot of the bed packing, already dressed, boots laced, shirt half-open, bruises crossing his collarbone in dark ropes. His hands moved with a terrible care, folding, tying, securing. Every motion too precise. Like if he loosened his grip for one second, something inside him would come apart.
My eyes scanned the bench, taking in the sight of his belongings. A gnawing unease settled in my chest as I realized my own items remained precisely where I'd left them, untouched. The air felt thick with a silent dread, a heavy, foreboding feeling that clung to me like a damp shroud.
I hugged my knees to my chest, I and watched him. The dim light glinted off the sweat on his brow, and I could feel his awareness of me, a prickling heat on my neck. He knew I was awake, I knew he knew. Still, his gaze remained fixed, unmoving, and a heavy silence descended, thick and suffocating, until it felt sharp, like tiny teeth nipping at the air. The rhythmic shh-shh of his fingers worrying the worn leather strap of his satchel, tightening what was already stretched taut, was the only sound in the oppressive quiet.
He was Stalling.
That frightened me more than shouting would have, something was wrong. Did something happen to the ship?
“Is she here?” My voice came out rough. Smaller than I meant. “The Ghost?”
His jaw flexed.
“Anchored at the dock.” Each word dropped like a stone. “High tide, we go out.”
We.
The word lodged in me, small and hopeful and dangerous. This was good right? So why does this feel wrong?
“So,” I said carefully, “we go back.”
He froze, not with the calm of tranquility, but the taut silence before a blade is drawn. It was the stillness of dread, the heavy pause before an unwelcome act. Then, a slow turn. The grim set of his jaw, the vacant stare in his eyes, spoke volumes even before his voice broke the air. The news he carried, a cold weight delivered, felt like the final, crushing blow.
“You’re not coming.”
The room seemed to tip. For a second I thought I’d misheard him. I laughed once. A sharp, ugly sound. This had to be some cruel joke.
“What?”
His eyes looked flayed raw. He hadn’t slept.
“You’re not coming.”
He repeated coldly. As if repeating cruelty made it cleaner. He set his shoulders, braced for impact.
“I made arrangements. You stay here. Work at the tavern. I spoke to the innkeeper.”
I spoke with the innkeeper. He discussed me as if I were merely a package to be delivered. My skin flushed with anger. He made decisions about my life without my knowledge or consent.
“You did what?”
I was off the bed before I knew I’d moved.
Bare feet on cold boards. The ribbon snagged loose from my hair and fell, blue silk pooling at my feet like surrender. He glanced at it but wouldn't look at me in the eyes. That hurt worse.
“You talked about me,” I said, voice shaking now. “Decided my life for me while I slept.”
His mouth hardened. I knew that look. Captain’s face. The one he wore when he wanted to feel nothing and people to follow orders.
I hated it.
“I got you the map!” I pushed on. “If you want it, Fine take it. But don't leave me.”
“This isn’t about the map.”
He snapped, his anger a sharp, biting force that cracked through the captain's carefully constructed facade, the truth spilling out uncontrollably, raw and exposed.
“Then what?” I snapped back.
He dragged a hand through his hair. He turned away and came back. Like even standing still near me was impossible. Then, quietly, almost broken:
“You can’t swim.”
I stared. Of all the wounds he could have chosen, he picked that one. I almost laughed. Almost struck him.
“That’s why you’re leaving me?” His face twisted as he took in my hurt. “No? there’s more isn’t there?.” I took in his expression before more words bursted out of him like something ripped loose.
“I should have left you on that island.”
That stunned me. I looked at him. My heart breaking at his omission. He looked sick the second he said it, But he kept going.
“Should never have let you on my ship.”
Every word another cut.
“Every time you go near the rail I see you overboard. Every swell, every storm…”
His voice frayed.
“I see you sinking.”
“Or I see Kip Slicing your throat open.”
Something inside me stuttered. Because this wasn’t contempt. It was terror. I stepped closer. Close enough to feel the heat coming off him.
“You think I’m weak?” I asked
“No.” His answer came back sharp.
“You think I can’t survive?”
“I know you can.” He admitted
“Then why?”
He couldn’t answer, or wouldn't.
Coward.
The word rose up bitter, a vile taste flooding my mouth as I spat it out. I didn’t hold back; every ounce of my frustration, my disappointment, my sheer anger was channeled into that single, damning accusation. I gave it to him, letting the venom drip from my tongue, watching it land squarely on his shame.
“Because you're afraid to admit your feelings for me.”
His eyes flashed. I pressed harder.
“Because you’d rather abandon me than watch what caring about me will cost you.”
His breath hitched. I saw the blow hit. That did it. He closed the distance in two strides.So fast my pulse jumped. His face inches from mine. His voice a low burn.
“You’re right.”
His hand hit the wall beside my head.
Not trapping but bracing. Like I’d knocked the strength out of him.
“I’m terrified.”
The room vanished, I locked on his mouth, His breath, His eyes. My favorite shade of green.
“I don’t want to watch you die, I want you to live.”
The words gutted me. I could barely breathe. Neither of us moved. I thought he might kiss me. I hated that I wanted him to. Instead he reached into his coat. Pulled out a small object and held it out for me. I almost couldn't believe what I was looking at.
“I got it back.”
My ring. My mother’s ring, dull with wear, the Chain tangled in his palm. I took it with shaking hands. It nearly undid me. I didn’t think I would get it back. The metal bit my palm as I squeezed it. I welcomed the pain.
He watched me put it on. He watched my fingers tremble. I watched his throat work. Then he said the cruelest thing yet.
“You're free from me now.”
My head jerked up.
“Is that what you think this is?” Hurt choked at me.
He said nothing to me. And his silence was his current weapon. I fastened the chain around my neck with numb fingers. Cold gold settled against my skin. It was a familiar comfort but it now felt like a noose around my neck
“Is that all?” I asked. My voice sounded like ice over deep black water. "Or is there a goodbye for me as well?"
For one impossible second he looked wrecked. Actually wrecked. Like he might drop the bag and scooped me up and take it all back.
Hope rose like a tide and it was quickly washed way as he pushed off the wall. Turning toward the door.
Coward.
With each step he took, my heart broke. His hand touched the latch. I watched him pause. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.
Without looking at me, he said, “Stay alive… Please.”
And left.
The door shut. The sound cracked through me as my heart and hope to join him shattered. I stood there shaking as I listened to footsteps fade.
I wanted to run after him, I wanted to hate him enough not to. I sank onto the bed only when my legs gave out.
Pressed my fist to my mouth so I wouldn’t make a sound and sobbed.