TWELVE

Try as I might to not let it affect me, there is a certain level of surety and confidence one must possess to captain any vessel.

This tends not to be a problem, that is until you get two captains and one self-proclaimed admiral aboard a single ship.

I am a captain who has grown used to taking orders since I was forced to be rid of my own ship, but that had also been at a point in which I still sought the fiendish piratess. Now that I have her in my periphery, stuck on a ship with me, it is difficult to hold my tongue or patience. I crave some semblance of control again, the kind of control that comes from captaining my own vessel.

And though I'm willing to take orders from Captain Thorne, I draw the line at taking orders from Isabella.

This seems to be something she knows, for at every opportunity, she comes by, provoking me with another command. She slips away from me before I can react, and I am left fuming on the deck with nowhere to aim my foul mood.

By the time we hit open waters, I'm seriously considering jumping ship and swimming back to port. Surely nothing could be worth another moment of the voyage with this fiendish woman.

Somehow, I make it through the first day, and when it is time for me to turn in, I'm more than happy to slip under deck and bunk in hammocks with Jasper and the rest of the crew. Isabella appears to be sleeping in the Captain's quarters, which means for at least a few hours, I will have peace from her.

I'm weary when I sink into a hammock, my boots and belt still on my person. Rarely do I let myself lower my guard while aboard a ship, and now that Isabella is around, my caution has increased ten-fold. I will not be tricked by her again.

Jasper settles into the hammock one over from me, letting out his own sigh.

We are both quiet, settling into the gentle sway of the ship as she passes through the rolling sea.

"Jasper, do you recall the first time we sailed together?"

I see him turn his head in the dark, and I look at him. I cannot find his gaze in the shadows of the hull, but it doesn't matter. I am too lost to my thoughts to focus much on reading his thoughts on his face.

"Aye," Jasper says, nodding slightly.

I let my mind wander to the first time I met him. My father had been sailing the Caribbean for several years already, and it had only been upon my thirteenth birthday that he and my mother allowed me to accompany him. It had been a year since, and my father's barque had landed in Nassau to offload a shipment. We didn't have a lot of turnover in our crew—most men were eager to work under my father's command and happily stayed employed unless family or fatigue moved them to retire.

Jasper had arrived at the dock, a young, nineteen-year-old sailor with everything to prove. He'd been fighting for years to join a crew, but time and again, things had fallen through. We didn't have room for another crewman, but Jasper had been persistent. I'd admired his tenacity, his cool calm in the face of rejection, and his quiet strength to keep insisting.

My father had admired it too, for the next day when we headed out, Jasper was aboard. Being the youngest next to myself, Jasper worked doubly hard to prove himself.

It took very little time, and soon, my father and I had come to think of Jasper as not just a crew member, but as friend. Time and again, we'd saved each other's lives to the point that there was no discernible tally. We had reached the comradery of family.

Jasper was the brother I had always craved, and he guided and taught me as well as my own father. We were thick as thieves, and if either of us ever found mischief, it was inevitable that the other was not far behind.

When my father died and I inherited his ship, Jasper took up the role of my first mate, even though he was five years my senior. He'd never faltered in his loyalty, and I couldn't imagine sailing without him.

"I thank God every day that you sought my father's ship out," I admit to him. I see him turn to look at me through the dark. "You are my only family left."

I see the shape of his head nod slightly. "You and your father are the only family I've ever truly known," he admits. Despite how long we've known each other, Jasper has rarely spoken of his family or his past. "I'd rather die fighting with my brother than live a long life alone."

His words warm the weariness in my soul, and I feel my lips tug into a slight smile.

"Thank you, Jasper." I sigh, my tired eyes closing. "Thank you, brother."