They hadn’t won.
My death toll had steadily grown.
And the sharks enjoyed a good feast that night as we tossed the pirates overboard, leaving them to sink into the briny depths.
“Anything to report, Jolfer?” I clasped my hands around the old-fashioned helm. That was a design I’d wanted—not because of practicality, but because the kid inside me never grew up.
I’d ruined my childhood and my brother’s.
But before that, when life was simpler, I’d loved my brother’s schooner that we’d played with in the bath. I loved the steering wheel where we’d place one-legged Lego Black Beard to steer the endless horizons.
That toy schooner was gone now, just like Kade. And even though I held the real thing, this helm wasn’t in control.
Computers were.
Jolfer steered my home with a fully automatic system. Decorating the entire front wall of the bridge was a mirage of blinking lights, buttons, and dials.
“Nothing, sir.” Jolfer wiped his hands on pressed navy trousers. His light blue t-shirt was casual but ironed, just like all his navigational team. “Still on course for Morocco. The report for weather on the Med is clear for the next few days with a minor squall coming on the weekend but nothing to concern us.”
I scratched my chin. “Good.”
Morocco was my next point of call. A Moroccan royal who was the second cousin to the king had a love of water after living in a desert-prone country and had enlisted my help to build him a moderate sized eight-bedroom yacht to entertain his close family and friends.
His requests were the opposite of Alrik’s.
Instead of weapons and torpedoes, he wanted sun umbrellas and priceless chandeliers. He also wanted a detachable submarine—which was fairly new to the market and well over half a million dollars—just for a tiny four-person bubble to explore the depths.
I would normally roll my eyes at such extravagance.
If I didn’t have one myself.
I’d used it a grand total of zero. I would never admit it, but I didn’t install it for recreational use but for the hope of one day finding my family and having gifts to bribe affection.
It was a fucking ridiculous idea.
Selix arrived, squinting at the ten a.m. sunshine streaming into the bridge. “Sir, the girl is showered and prepared as you requested.”
Finally.
It’s time we discuss a few things.
“Thank you.” Giving him a look, I paced toward the exit. “When is our meeting with His Highness?”
Selix pulled out his phone, tapping on the diary where he recorded every deal, open contract, and agenda so I didn’t have to. “In six days. We’re meeting him in Asilah at a local beachfront restaurant he co-owns.”
My mind raced.
Ideally, I would’ve liked to stop off in Monaco where my boat builders were based and visit the small house where I stored pieces of my past. It was the only place on land where I had a resemblance of home.
But we didn’t have time.
The Mediterranean was a busy path of waterways and cruising congestion. We didn’t have the luxury to detour.
“I can arrange a small stay in Monaco once we’ve finished the meeting if you’d like?” Selix asked, reading my hesitation to swing into port.
I bit my lip, contemplating. What would I have done with Pim by then? Would I have earned the answers I needed? Would I have already sold her or would she still be my ward?
Either way, I needed to touch base with my managers. It’d been a few months. And I wanted to visit the things I constantly ran from—the memories I studiously avoided.
“Yes, arrange it. Give us a few days in Monaco after this.”
Trusting he would make it happen, I left the bridge and headed below deck to see my silent stowaway.
“GOOD MORNING.”
Him again.
My head wrenched up. I tucked the bloody dollar with its scribbled note that Elder had folded into a butterfly beneath the sheets. I’d held onto it all while my tongue was sliced. I’d woken from surgery with it gone. Dr. Michaels had placed the ruined money into the bedside drawer, letting the unfolded butterfly wings breathe with past pain and everything I’d overcome.
It was morbid to clutch such a thing; stupid to try to find comfort in something that had no power to grant any, especially when Elder’s penmanship inked with the truth: that he’d been willing to forget me but for some reason went against his promise.
Knowing he would’ve willingly left me didn’t grant comfort in my current circumstances.
Why did he return for me? What made him change his mind?
It added yet another question to the bubbling cauldron already taking up every nook and cranny of my thoughts.
I gritted my teeth, wishing this episode of my life was over and I was healed and strong and could demand my freedom before I went insane with questions.
Now that he’s here…I need all the strength I can find.