His chestvibrated with a deep moan as he shifted to hover above me on thebed. His long legs spread mine open and I grabbed his thick leatherbelt, driving his hips into me. A warm shiver coursed through mybody as his mouth found my ear and he whispered deeply.
“God, howI’ve missed you.”
I tilted myhead back in ecstasy, body writhing against his. “I’m right here.I’ve always been right here.”
Henry pausedand pulled away, looking into my eyes, his glistening with threatsof tears. In them, I could see so much pain, so much regret, and Ifelt his torment. Gently, I grabbed his face and touched myforehead to his.
“Dianna–”
“Shh,don’t,” I whispered. “You don’t have to. It’s okay.”
“No, it’snot,” he argued and removed himself from atop my body to stand nextto the bed, his back facing me.
“Henry,please,” I begged. “Don’t retreat again. Stay with me.”
“How canyou say that? How can you still want me?”
“What doyou mean? That’s all I want. For things to go back to the way theywere before–” I had to stop myself. I refused to speak the words.To give them life.
But Henryspun back around and faced me with a fiery intensity blazing in hiseyes. His fists tight balls at his sides. In that moment, I knew he was gone againand there was nothing I could do to reel him back. “What? Before Inearly killed you?”
“Henry,”I replied and stood. “You didn’t.”
“Themarks you hide say otherwise.”
My throattightened at the memory that forced its way through. But I shook myhead. “You didn’t know what you were doing. You were sleeping.”
“Was I?”he replied, eyes gone dark. Empty. “Then how come I remember itall? My hands around your…” He brought his palms up and stared atthem in disgust. “I shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”
I took astep toward him, but he retreated. “Just let me help you. You can’tlive like this. We can’t livelike this.”
“How canyou possibly help me?” he asked as he hastily grabbed hisbelongings and shoved on his black leather jacket.
“Bytalking about what happened to you on that damn island!”
His head shotup and his dark, soulless eyes bore into mine. “No.”
“Henry–”
“No!” hebellowed. The man stood there for a moment, chest heaving inanger before he stormed outof our quarters and slammed the door behind him. He left me there in thestone-cold silence that had quickly become my life. The sound of myheartbeat, hot and rapid in my ears, the only noise to be found. Iallowed a moment to fall apart before I forced myself to gather upthe pieces and step into my daily role as captain. My crew neededme.
I just wishedHenry needed me, too.
***
The vibrationof our swords colliding pulsed down my arm and radiated deep in mybones. But it was a sensation I’d grown to like. Love, even. Finnhad been seriously teaching me to use a sword for weeks now, and Ilooked forward to our daily lessons. They were one of the fewthings that removed me from the despair I felt with Henry’sPTSD.
Finnlunged at me, swordswinging hard from side to side. I dodged the blade with ease andbrought my own up to block it. His face grinned madly. “Aye, yercatchin’ on fast, Lassie.”
“I wouldhope so, we’ve been at this for weeks,” I repliedbreathily and pushed againsthim.
“Sometake years to master their blade,” he told me as we danced aroundone another in our practiced positions. “Some never truly grasp itat all.”
“Well, Ineed to know how to defend myself.”
“Aye, Iwon’t argue against ye there.” He spun around and flung his bladedown low. But I caught it, hooking mine around it in a twirlingfashion and forced it up and away from me. “But it would have beeneasier to teach ye to use a pistol, I reckon.”
The thought ofusing a pistol on anyone didn’t sit well in my stomach and theimage of the barrel pointing at Henry flashed through my mind sofast I barely caught it. I shook my head, but the ashes of angercoursed through my veins and I used that to fuel my swinging arm.My fingers gripped the hilt tightly and I pushed against the spacethat Finn occupied, forcing him into a corner and held the edge ofmy blade to his neck. His eyes bulged at the sudden defeat.
“I’ll dojust fine with a sword,” I told him and let it drop to my side as Ibacked away.
“Clearly,” he replied and coughed. An awkward silence hung inthe air between us. “Uh, did ye want to get some breakfast? I thinkwe can still catch it before Lottie cleans up.”
I forced asmile for my friend. “Sure.”
We descendedthe ladder to the mess deck and found a couple of the deckhandsstill hanging around, their plates empty but the conversation fullas they enjoyed a cup of tea. But they both came to a respectivehalt at the sight of me. I rarely made an appearance in the morningbecause I often used those hours to catch up on sleep while Henrystepped in as captain for me.
“Please,”I said to them, “Don’t stop because I’m here. Enjoy yourtea.”
They tippedtheir hats and smiled at me as I took a seat at an empty table.Finn ducked into the kitchen area where Lottie no doubt would befound. I rubbed my tired eyes and raked my fingers through thetangled mess of hair that sat on my shoulders. My mind raced withconcern for the man I loved. He had to get a handle on hisPTSD.
I just wishedhe’d let me help him. After my mom’s apparent death, Aunt Maryencouraged me to see a psychiatrist. I refused at first, determinedto deal with my emotions in sullen silence. But, once I did, when Ifinally opened up and began to purge my feelings, I started toheal. It was a slow process, but it worked.
I knew thatlosing my mother at a young age couldn’t even be compared to whatHenry went through
