- Chapter Sixty-Five -

Looks Like (The Pirates That Need Avenging)

"We did it, we found Avery's treasure. Well, I found Avery's treasure on the Fancy." Oh-so modest and humble about the extent of his discovery, the roguish adventurer wanted it known who had claimed it first. "Nadine and her Shoreline goons were still working with Rafe up until that point, but things were getting pretty tense." The grizzled brunette made it a point to say that the woman had been working with Rafe, even though he wasn't sure of the exact moment she had had enough of his shit.

"I'll deny I ever said this," lightening the scene just a tad, the narrator stood up for an individual that he didn't have the easiest relationship with, "but, uh, she probably survived because she had been the one other person to realize what the treasure had cost." Provided his audience had been listening to the story thus far, Daniella would have known who the other was.

Not quite able to reconcile Chloe's friend with the woman in Sam's story, she pictured Nadine to be a faceless figure, imposing enough to give the Drake brothers hell. Having said that, the barely functioning part of Daniella's brain that was logging information did recall seeing the name 'Shoreline' stamped on some crates that had been sent to storage. Her mother mentioned them from time to time on some of her dealings, saying the name as a cautionary tale, a consequence of what happened if you broke a deal.

In person or in the press, Wen Bai gave no indication that she knew what had happened to Rafe, it was possible that she really didn't. Or maybe it was just easier to pretend that her one true love on life had died before he had the chance to fail.

From the perspective of someone that knew more about loss than love, it was easy enough to see the appeal of not wanting someone you cared deeply for to be painted in a bad light. So for whatever else she was feeling, Dells could sympathize with her mother on that much.

"...Cost?" Tongue thick and working overtime to compensate for the lengthy spans of silence, the unused muscles in her mouth chewed on raw words that had never been learned before. "Cost. Yes, these things do seem to have a their price, don't they?" As logic and things learned in school filtered back and forth to give the mind something solid to lean on, the heiress remembered a passage that seemed fitting. "'I had an inheritance from my father. It was the moon and the sun. And though I roam all over the world, the spending of it's never done.'"

Hemingway. "For Whom the Bell Tolls." Sam recognized the quote straight away, his gaze fading from the haunted fall of ash and the near-deafening blast of canon fire to the early dawn glow basking the heiress in a pale light. Rose gold and scattered with periwinkle, the morning cut a stark contrast to the mourning dew catching on downcast ebony blades.

Silhouette the slightest shiver against the surrounding salmon sky, sighing slate swathed her shoulders (not unlike cloaks of old) and seashell synthesized a serene yet sorrowful halo. Somehow greater than the Nascita di Venere (what, hang out with Victor long enough, and you pick up a thing or two, such as famous works that were frequently reprinted and even more frequently requested), the sunrise was only missing the sea.

"You..."

Static in that the constant flinching of the skin was only just barely visible to the naked eye, even caught up in the hustle of the distant past, Sam could tell that the woman looked without really seeing, was present without really being there in the moment. In short, she was hardly more than a victim of the living dead.

Focus on the circulating solar disk in the sky if it was on anything at all, the sapphires that were so blue that night became glass, smogged over by smoke and mirrors. By heartache. "So, what was it?" Potent as the venom laced into her tone was, the mind within was only just registering the origin of holes in his stomach.

Another falsehood. And to think, for just a moment she thought that they had found common ground.

Mirroring the night-long reluctance to fully meet the other's gaze, the heart of the question was so simple that the immediate answer was evident: the price for finding Henry Avery's lost treasure had been Rafe. No longer permitted the excuse of needing that one great discovery, what was left was the life the businessman might have led, the things he could have focused his attention on now that he had made his name in the world. The life his daughter might have had with her father. Above all, the life that she could have had.

Fingers twitching, they missed the feeling of having something real to hold on to. Instead of face the music, the thief turned his attention to the rising sun, gesturing to the ultimate sign of hope. Sure, he could have gotten all sappy, but that wasn't really his thing, so Sam compromised and told her the one thing that had nearly made everything for naught. "It almost cost my little brother everything. His new life, his marriage. Elena."

Elena and Nathan may have been little more than strangers at this juncture, however it was next to impossible to imagine one without the other. But that wasn't what the young woman needed to hear, and they both knew that. If there was any way to make this better, it had to come from the heart. "What about you? What did finding Avery's treasure cost you personally?"

Cut between past and present, there were two answers vying to be the first out of his mouth. But in the end, only one of them won out, "My little brother."

Almost. That was almost good enough. It was obvious that for Sam, everything was always going to circle back around to the little brother he loved more than anything (or anyone) else. Specifically, Daniella knew that he meant that this had cost Sam Nathan's trust in him, and for good reason - Nate had been out of the business for a couple of years before his long-lost sibling returned from the dead. He had thought that being back in the action was what his little brother needed, that he would remember why they had went into this life in the first place.

Not entirely sure what she had hoped to hear when everything was one broken mess inside her head, Dells rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, coming as close to facing Sam as she had all night. "Anything else?"

Hours ago, there had been a cloud floating over the grove beneath the swash of indigo sky. Made up of stars and sapphires and dreams, there had been something tangible in that cluster, fleeting as a heartbeat and decidedly serene. There wasn't a name for something so finite, just the feeling it had left behind. And it was gone now, wiped out as if it had never existed in the first place.

Daniella's fragile state had certainly been demolished by all of the facts she had been told, and if there had been anything left standing, it had definitely been obliterated by the revelation of just how well he had known her parents. In fact, upon hearing in no uncertain terms that Sam had been with not one of but both of her parents, the young woman had promptly vomited in disgust.

Taking a small reprieve from the main adventure, when the question of if the resemblance had anything to do with the reason why he was interested in her was thoughtlessly blurted out, there had been a response. Not a great one, the reply had been reluctantly given and instantly regretted. Daniella was a pretty enough little thing beneath that hassled umber frizz, made even more appealing when the clothes had come off. And yeah, the resemblance had definitely been a factor, as had her relation to crazy and crazier... There was too much resentment, too much unresolved attraction and regret. Too much history. But he probably should have found a better way to express all of that than just a simple 'you're pretty'.

'Pretty'. The word had struck a cord in the heiress, and not a very good one at that. Pretty, like a discount distilled version of her model-beautiful mother. Strikingly like her father. Not even able to finish that train of thought, the young woman had barfed again.

Queasy whenever her thoughts came even remotely close to acknowledging the connection they all shared (seriously, the next time anything came out of her mouth, there was every chance that it would be blood), Dells had shoved that aside to just listen to the rest of the story. To the facts as Sam recounted them.

Now that things were winding down and the end was nigh, she wanted to look at Sam, to see if he felt anything at all about what he had done, however she couldn't muster up the nerve.

Once more that wide-eyed little girl waiting up for her daddy to come back with pirate booty, she didn't know what to feel now that she had learned the truth of her father's death. The greed, the obsession, the hate... He had given in to every single bad quality he had, and not once had he stopped to think of those he had left waiting at home. Not his beloved daughter, nor her just as loving mother.

What could she possibly take away from that? Feeling a rush of gratitude to Nathan for at least trying to save his enemy, there was rage and confusion for days. Anger, contempt, bitterness, and more than anything else, hurt. Had there really not been one single moment that her father stopped to think of his family at all? Mr. Drake had thought of Elena, and that was even before they had had Cassie.

And Sam... Unable to deal with a lot of what had already been laid on the table, the heiress really couldn't fathom how she felt. Not in general, and definitely not towards him. Sam... What have you done to me? Feeling almost dirty, Dells held herself, mind doubting every frame, questioning how much of it had been true, and how much of it had been him using her for his own ends.

"Tell me true, it crossed your mind to take advantage of the situation, didn't it?" Bai kissed the side of her daughter's head, eyes alight with poison and secret knowledge. Knowing full well what was what, she cooed to Daniella without really taking her eyes off the natural-born brunette. "You're such a pretty little thing, so much like your father."

Stone calcifying around the heart and blocking the space between memory, it wasn't so long ago that her mother had hinted at this turn. Naturally things where too chaotic and happening too rapidly to really think about why she would say such a thing, but now that everything had slowed down... Was there something to it, or had that merely been more cryptic bullshit? Her mother was definitely petty enough.

One minute bleeding into two rather quickly, despite the question going unanswered, he reached out for the recoiling ball. Silence a troubled one, the heiress was trembling like a leaf in a wind that was not blowing; understandable as the reaction was, he'd dealt with her long enough to recognize a panic attack. Everything was going wrong for her, yet when she saw him coming to her, she had held up her hand, signifying in universally understood gestures that she just wanted to be left alone. Persisting in spite of this, Sam could tell that even if he had said that he was only interested in getting them back to the hotel then, she wouldn't have listened.

'Not having it' an understatement, Dells smacked away the hand that she had once associated with safety. Look far more reproachful than it was apologetic, she once again threw up five reasons to stay away - the young woman needed to think, and she couldn't do that clearly with him there. Rising as if possessed by the woodland spirit of a fawn, the heiress didn't give the man another chance before darting off into the surrounding trees.

Jade, green, emerald, moss, pine, sage, and mint, the early morning leaves were all a blur against the cocoa bark, the ashy soldiers and the elms between. Fallen stars from last year crunched loudly beneath her galloping hooves, the sprigs of spring bowing low to make way. Distance the driving force more than escape, the adrenaline pounding in her veins would do whatever it took to get away from the deceiver, even if that meant sprouting wings.

What was that song again? The one about survival?

Uneven as the earth was, it was inevitable that the damp clay would get the better of the young woman sooner or later. Hardly even thinking about where it was she was planning on going on an island paradise in what was probably someone's backyard, there was only forward. No backwards, not even to see if she was being chased. And no side view to watch for any wolves that might close in on their vulnerable prey. My eyes are gone now.

One of the biggest unexpected perks of having Sam around was that he had been there to pick her back up after she fell, assuming that he hadn't caught her first; in these last couple of days on the island (the parts she could remember at least), Daniella had lost track of how many times he had been there for her. Fifty? Seventy-five? Surely it must have been eighty without going into hyperbole. He was always there for her, whenever she had need of him...

Brave enough to scare the monsters out of the closet when it was time for bed and guard the bathroom door when she was in the shower, her knight had kept her as safe as anyone could have. But she had to remind herself that he wasn't a knight - he was a thief. And he was truly a credit to his profession, catching the priceless heirloom before it could shatter into a million worthless pieces on the floor, holding the prize steady as the world raged all around. He'd even gone so far as wrapping it all up in bubble-wrap and calling it an embrace. Consoling... or merely sizing up the potential payout?

In the gaping hole left in her chest, the answer was obvious, but in her head, she knew that it was probably wrong. So much about this was always wrong, from every angle...

Seasoned and showing it, the age difference should have made her think twice about entertaining a single thought of silver foxes and daddies. Pardons, a distinguished older gentleman with experience (really, internet culture was a plague on all of mankind). The heiress was only a school girl, at that age where she should have been focusing on her studies and the foreseeable future, not... Other things. Acquaintanceship rushed due to extenuating circumstances, while Jay had been a vanilla-flavored sample of things to come, Sam was exactly what that lonely princess in her ivory tower dreamed of. Oh, God, had there been a single moment that she hadn't been attracted to the pepper in his auburn locks?

Hired by her mother of all people - stricken by doubts, there was a serious gnawing in the back of her mind concerning the biggest traitor of the century - everything about her relationship with Sam should have been strictly professional. Daniella would have liked to think that her biological blood relative was above selling her daughter out, but that was obviously not the case. And Sam... Well, the less she thought about that, the better.

Finally there came the largest hurdle of all: her family. All had lain claim to the latest link in the dynasty, and while not a single one of them stopped to ask what she might want, it went against everything she had ever been taught to refuse her elders. Family was everything to Daniella, as fucked up as the roots in her family tree were. A good daughter had to at least attempt to do right by her family, no matter what. But what was right?

Highest at the table and most honored of all, her father had no voice with which to speak, nor did so many others in the line. In the strictly traditional mind of the grandfather she had never met before, despite the bloodline being tainted, Daniella was to be engaged to a good, vetted boy from a trusted family. The serpent in heels doubtlessly had her own plans for the girl, but she would likely frown on anything happening between the hired help and the heiress. In the Queen of Traitors view, her daughter was too good for the likes of someone like Sam, but was her biggest issue the perceived difference in class or age? Given her own preferences, it clearly wasn't a race thing, so maybe it had something to do with being a generational thing-

And there went the rest of the ginger ale she'd been coaxed into drinking. After waking up in just a towel (and the arms of a certain man, but she couldn't think about that if she wanted to keep her footing), Dells remembered him asking how she felt. After everything, she thought it was really sweet of him, but now she even had to second-guess that as some kind of play. Was it to keep things as they were, or to maybe make up for...? No, she really shouldn't dwell on that business. Honestly, considering her record on surfaces that weren't specifically made for track, it would be best if she didn't think at all. But how could she turn it all off when there was just so much there to unpack? While she had gotten dressed, Sam had done her a kindness, ordering ginger ale and a plain turkey sandwich for her to try to hold down.

So much for that one.

Virtually alone in every conceivable aspect right now, the only way to come out of this thing even mildly alright was to keep moving. Sliding on the sopping terrain to the point that she was almost doing the splits, Daniella was terrified that no matter how far she drove her body, there would be no escaping what had happened. Setting aside all the personal crap, was it even possible to get through this muddled assignment when she couldn't even stomach looking at the person she was stuck with? And vice versa. Say for a moment that she actually believed that coming out of this thing was a possibility, how was she supposed to move on with her life after this? From...?

Hate was a strong word, however it went without saying that the young woman really had serious issues with her mother these days. Assuming that things would revert back to normal when the journey was finished, would it come down to kicking the woman out of the manor? Land owners with more than enough property between them, would they purposefully avoid one another? Once the girl had graduated, would her mother try to kick her out of the house? Technically she did have some legal right, and as an adult in the eyes of the law, there was a very real shot that the matter would go to court.

Obviously the heiress wasn't overly concerned with affording a new place (and truthfully the change in environment might prove better for her mental health). What she did care about was her new... well, it wasn't as simple as calling all these people friends, but she really did like them for the most part. Dells didn't want to say goodbye to any of them, although how could she possibly keep in contact with them once all this business had been settled?

Rafael could potentially want to stay around, even though they had never really clicked all that much. Chloe seemed like she would probably answer her calls, so that was a big plus, and Elena might as well, except... Maintaining a friendship with the cheery blonde woman would be awkward, wouldn't it? Somehow she could imagine Mr. Drake encouraging the bond, even with it being a conflict of interests; Dells didn't want to cause any problems though, so even if she did try, she could picture herself allowing the relationship to wither.

While Cassie was the closest in age and the most likely to be her friend on paper, there was better chance that Logan would want to hang out. Speaking of the surfer, the heiress should totally give him a call, make sure that he was doing alright. After all, he'd come back around to save her sorry ass when Angel and Ashley had been hosting her. Although, given to whom the father-to-be was related, a friendship would only serve to complicate things further. Best case scenario was that he would remind her too much of the person she was trying to forget. Worst case? She could try to do something very regrettable that was the height of hypocrisy.

Sam had a strong effect on her, and her mind was not exactly the pinnacle of mental wellness.

Broken dial stuck on the classics, the heiress saw that glass of ginger ale, and the first night she had crawled into bed with Sam, and the golden halo of the angel that had saved her from almost drowning. There was a guy that generously turned away when it was clear that she was still too shy to disrobe, a girl that had erected a wall of pillows between them, and a worried giant that had floated over the unconscious body of Sleeping Beauty. There was a couple walking through the empty city streets at three in the morning.

So much for that one.

Pretty.

Sam... What have you done to me?

Almost. That was almost good enough.

What was that song again? The one about survival?

Daniella knew that in order to survive, she had to keep moving. Screw the fruit bursting underneath her feet that would never be collected now, and damn the curious turtles and slugs that had popped out of their shells to impede her progress. If the young woman stopped for even a moment, all of her thoughts might very well catch up to her. Or worse: Sam might.

Although... would that really have been the worst thing in the world if he did?

He might... might... what? Unsure what she would do if they were to come face-to-face at this moment, Dells had no clue what could possibly be said or done to fix things at this juncture. Crushing when she was only an explorer, that hopelessness had only added to the weight on her shoulders. The young woman knew that she relied on him too much, but this really was something that she couldn't do on her own. It had to be a conversation. A compromise, one great lie, hypnosis, something to get beyond this. Anything.

Because hiding the truth always works so well.

Coming this close to debating that point with herself, the heiress was certain of nothing, only that when she tried to picture the most inevitable of moments, she couldn't face Sam if she had to. Her stomach was already all over the island and the nightmare of some poor janitor, so she hardly needed to risk what was left of the lining on the slim chance that looking at him would change anything. Her mother had... and her father... all three had done horrible, terrible things, but involving her in this capacity was just...!

Definitely not able to hold back the spew, the only good thing Daniella could say was that she didn't see any blood coming out. Not yet. Just give it time, she thought grimly to herself.

Tripping on a stump that was covered in fungi, the woman barely caught herself before she kissed the dirt. Not a fan of what fungus could potentially do to a person, the heiress was quick to carry on, absolutely set that she not glance over her shoulder. Not even when she thought she heard something moving a short ways off from her present location.

Gagging on a whiff of something lingering in the moist air, some overripe stench powerful enough to mask the scent of her own sick, between the nausea and the raw reek, she stumbled to her knees. Crawling off to a sagging mulberry bush that was dripping with plump fruit and unpicked spoils, being down low to the earth did nothing to help ease the assault of her nostrils, but at least there it was going to be harder to find her. Possibly.

One hand in front of the other, as her palm pressed into the overgrown grass, everything broke and became upside-down. Jolted, the girl thought for just a moment that her stomach had finally had enough of her ill treatment at long last and had rebelled, ripping itself out. And at the same time the blushing sky had finally made good on its threat to Chicken Little, switching places with the open earth. Head swimming to straighten out at least one thing that had happened today, the last thing she saw clearly was the decomposing body of some local critter beneath the underbrush.

Mud meeting her face-first, that short-lived tumbling sensation was a divot in the land, a trap that had been dug so many years ago. How the heiress had missed it was hardly a mystery, when her head was literally everywhere else but on her surroundings. Again, it was only a matter of time until the ground had taken her down; doing so in spectacular fashion, she would probably be brushing her teeth for weeks and still not get all of the dirt out of her mouth. Assuming of course she lived that long. At this rate... Maybe dying in a hole wasn't the worst thing.

Contented to just wait death out, anything was better than seeing the disgraceful knight again. Than having to call out like some damsel that was no better than a ditz with Daddy's credit card. Urgh, there was that word again... Making a mess of her shoes all over for what was quite possibly the sixth time that morning, the girl rubbed away the latest coating of bile and soil.

This wasn't so bad, right? Trying not to draw comparisons of how cramped and dark this hole was going to get when the sun went away, Dells could almost reach the top standing up straight. Maybe if she got on her tippy-toes, she could climb out?

Plan firmly in mind, the heiress took a deep, centering breath, clapped her hands together, and got to work. Discovering that she came just shy of getting her fingers out of the hole, the next step was to jump for it. Scrambling to catch on to something on the surface, those five reasons to stop found purchase on the second hop. The first hadn't exactly gone all that well, her knee seizing up at the most inopportune moment.

Forgoing that minor set-back, it wasn't long before busted nails snagged deep enough roots resilient enough to bear her ever-lessening weight. Struggling to pull herself topside, it was with no shortage of grunting and groaning that the heiress dragged herself to the half-way mark.

I... I got this! I do!

Escape a very attainable goal, panic swallowed her heart whole when at the last moment the grass had snapped. Fortunately, Daniella had been close enough to clutch desperately at the edge. Dangling there from the ledge, the heiress put everything she had into holding on and climbing out of that pit. If she didn't go back, eventually the others would send out a search party for her, and the young woman had already wasted enough of their time and effort. It was Cassie's time to shine now, and as a guest she'd already encroached on too much of the birthday girl's attention.

Reaching up for that final stretch, inexplicably Daniella felt a strong hand wrapping around her wrist. Yanking her up with only the slightest of difficulties, she supposed that it was probably always going to end this way, with Sam saving her yet again from another mishap. Except... getting pulled up enough to get a good look at the person that had rescued her, Dells realized that it wasn't her usual hero...