Chapter Text
Adam Parrish had learned from a young age never to open his mouth while his father did business. It went further than that; Adam was rarely allowed to talk in the presence of his father. Robert Parrish was an impatient man; he didn’t like wasting time on his only son, who could barely form proper sentences around him.
He watched as Robert Parrish sold stolen goods to a young man, barely older than Adam himself. He was tall and lanky, the unclean shirt he wore was unbuttoned and revealed a tanned chest, he had scars on his stomach, healed stab wounds, Adam guessed. Every time he moved, the jewelry decorating his neck and wrists shimmered brightly in the evening sun. When he smiled, Adam counted at least two golden teeth.
On his left side, he saw movement. He turned his head to face some of the crew that had joined their captain on this bargain.
Captain Joseph something-something, that’s what his father had called him. Adam’s captain rarely bothered to remember the names of who he did business with. If he’d ever get caught, his customers wouldn’t have to fear getting caught as well.
Their captain had ordered them to bring three boxes to the shore. Joseph something-something had bought all three and was now talking about the next deal with Robert. Meanwhile, his crew was checking out the goods, murmuring loudly amongst themselves. If Adam had two working ears, he might have understood what was going on.
“Quit yapping around and start loading them up!” One of them said, unlike the others, he didn’t come near the boxes. His arms were crossed as he leaned against a tree. Adam was sweating, it was two in the afternoon and the sun stood high in the sky. He wanted to take a dip in the sea, his throat felt dry and the bruises on his body stung. The stranger was dressed from head to toe in black, his head was shaved with the sun burning down on it hard, he didn’t seem bothered.
Their gaze met, Adam found it hard to breathe for a second. The stranger’s eyes were intense as he stared him up and down, when his gaze landed on the bruise forming around Adam’s left eye, he narrowed his eyes. Then he glanced at Robert Parrish.
The stranger looked at his captain. Joseph something-something looked up as well, as if he knew his crewmate had been staring. He turned his head just the slightest, smirked at the stranger and returned his attention back to Robert.
Robert wasn’t happy with being interrupted mid-sentence. Adam knew he’d be the one to pay for that. His face throbbed. He could feel the stranger’s gaze on him. Not wanting any more trouble, Adam looked away.
This was his first mistake; he’d turned his left ear to the conversation. The crew members were making too much noise, he could barely understand what his father and Joseph were talking about. If his father drank too much before heading back to the ship, it would be Adam who’d have to report to their captain. Their captain hated Robert, and therefore hated Adam’s mom and him as well. Adam didn’t look forward to that conversation, just like he didn’t look forward to being alone with his father after all this this was over.
“Aye, two months, same place.” Joseph said, his voice louder than earlier. Adam frowned and faced him. Joseph was staring at him, he held out his hand to Robert. His father looked at it with disgust but still shook it.
“The deal’s the deal.” Robert said between gritted teeth.
Joseph squeezed his hand; Robert’s frown grew deeper. Then Joseph let go and wiped his hand, he turned his gaze to the stranger. Adam followed his gaze only to realize the stranger had still been staring, the moment their eyes met, the man looked away. He was scowling, as if Adam’s mere presence was an insult. Nothing I’m not used to. He thought while wiping sweat of his brow.
“How much for the boy?” Joseph asked, nodding his head towards Adam.
A shiver ran down Adam’s spine. Robert’s frown only grew deeper as he turned to look at his only son.
Adam did not dare look away.
“That’s my son, he ain’t for sale.” Robert said, his voice gruff, “Also, capt’n doesn’t trade in human cargo.”
“I’m not asking your captain. I’m asking you.” Joseph said, he grinned lazily. His own crew seemed to hang on to every word he was saying, their smiles were big and their eyes were wide.
Robert shook his head, “He ain’t good at nothing. You’d be wasting your money.” Words Adam heard so often yet did not sting as much. They felt like a rush of cold water on a hot summer’s day. A kiss on a bruised cheek. His father might hate him, but Adam and him shared a debt. That should count for some loyalty. Right?
“Oh, I don’t need him to do anything, he can lie on his back the entire time for all I care.” He narrowed his eyes, “If you know what I mean.”
Adam couldn’t fight back the grimace forming on his face. His facial expression almost an exact copy as that of his father.
Robert spat at Joseph’s shoes. Adam understood the sentiment.
Joseph laughed, “Do we have a deal?” he asked.
“Two months, same place.” Robert said in lieu of goodbye. He turned away from Joseph and nodded at Adam, a sign that he had to follow. Adam didn’t waste a second in following him.
“Five pieces of gold.” Joseph shouted.
Robert stopped. Adam bumped into him. He heard his father inhale loudly, he was furious. Adam tried to apologize, instead he saw a fist flying his way and braced himself for the impact. It was the left side of his face, the bruise there had still been fresh. Adam tumbled down into the sand in an ungraceful manner.
Joseph laughed. The crew mates cheered.
Adam felt his cheeks burn with humiliation, his head throbbed, and his right ear was ringing. “Get up.” Robert snapped. Adam did, he kept his gaze down.
“Caught yer interest, didn’t it, old man?” Joseph laughed manically, “I’d be doing you a favor, he looks like a handful.”
Adam opened his mouth, words poisonous like venom forming on his lips. They died as soon as he saw the stranger; he’d moved much closer, now standing next to Joseph. He whispered something in his captain’s ear, to which Joseph replied, “For you, of course.”
The stranger looked furious. Joseph seemed to have a talent for making people angry.
“Five pieces of gold?” Robert parroted.
Words that for sure, would haunt him in his nightmares. He stared in shock at his father. This isn’t happening.
When Robert looked back at him, it was with full disgust. Adam felt sick. He’d been aware of his father’s hatred towards him for as long as he could remember. From a young age, his father had made it clear that Adam was one of his biggest mistakes; and yet- not in his scariest nightmares, had Adam ever imagined his father considering selling him like some sort of animal
“You can’t be serious.” He hadn’t begged since he was a child. But this situation made him feel a new type of desperate, he felt the words ‘please’ and ‘dad’ burning on the tip of his tongue. “I’m your son.” He wouldn’t go without a fight. Adam refused to stay quiet while his father discussed Adam’s worth to another pirate.
Five pieces of gold. It was enough to repay the Parrish’s their debt to the captain.
“He ain’t for sale.” Robert decided.
Adam exhaled in relief, his knees buckled but he managed to stay upright. At night, his father would probably stare at him and see the five pieces of gold dangling above Adam’s head. But for now, Adam felt like he could breathe.
“C’mon then.” Robert grumbled while grabbing Adam’s arm. His grip was hard and made Adam want to scream, instead he bit his tongue while letting himself be pulled forward.
“Six pieces!”
This time, Adam did cry out in pain when his father’s grip tightened. Robert did not spare him a second look, “Ten.” He shouted.
The sand beneath his feet felt as wobbly as the sea during a storm, “Dad.” he gasped, still trying to process what he’d just heard.
“Shut-up, boy.”
His eyes stung, he stared in disbelief at his father, then to Joseph.
“Eight,” Joseph said, looking like the cat who got the canary.
Adam’s stomach felt it would turn on him any second.
“Dad, please no.” and there they were; words he hadn’t uttered for years. He hadn’t begged for so long, but once he started the words fell out like a waterfall. Adam made promises, offered bargains, anything to make this madness stop. He’d rather lose a limb than face whatever faith was waiting for him if the deal was struck.
His father saw nothing but gold, Adam’s begging was only a delay to his reward. Not wanting to wait any longer, Robert Parrish shut-up his son in the only way he knew how; with violence. His fist met the left side of Adam’s face, close to his ear. An injury that was still healing. Adam saw stars as he fell to the ground for a second time, he felt all the air being knocked out of his lungs. When he tried to breathe, he inhaled a lungful of sand. He coughed loudly while chaos erupted around him.
The crew was laughing loudly, talking amongst themselves.
“Ten or no deal.” His father said.
“Fine,” Joseph said, “The deal’s the deal.”
“No, no,” Adam shook his head while pushing himself up, “No, no wait-“ he held out his hand to Joseph, “Please, no,” he choked, then he stared at his father, “Dad…” but what more was there to say? Would he lose his pride as well as his freedom in one moment?
“Sorry princess, time’s up. We really should get going.” Joseph held up a purse, when he shook it, coins clinked. His father reached out to him; his hands looked like claws as they tried to grab him. Adam ducked, he stumbled backwards.
Robert turned slowly, his eyes spitting fire, if Adam were to run and Robert got his hands on him, he’d be dead for sure, a faith less scary than what awaited him on that pirate ship.
Adam walked backwards, “Don’t make me go with them, please.” He rasped.
He almost tripped over a branch, at the same time, his father lunged forward.
Adam ran.
Adam jumped over branches, he pushed leaves out of his face and kept going deeper and deeper into the forest. He heard buzzing from everywhere around him. He almost stumbled over something but kept going. Until his legs were burning, and his lungs felt like they were going to collapse.
He didn’t stop.
Stopping meant getting caught.
He ran until all he could hear was the sound of the forest. Behind him he heard something rustle, when he turned, he saw the tail of a colorful bird. He panted, his heart was beating fast while sweat ran down his face. It burned his eyes, he leaned against a tree and tried to catch his breath.
His stomach gave up on him, he doubled over while throwing up the meager meal he’d had earlier that day.
“Shit,” he said between gritted teeth, he punched his fist against a tree, hard enough to break skin. “Shit, shit, shit-“ shit, shit, shitshitshitshit.
There was green everywhere. Adam began to move, catching his breath wasn’t a luxary he could afford himself right then.
Every sound he heard made him turn, he felt like he was on the edge of a breakdown. He hoped they’d just given up. Had he put enough distance between him and the men chasing him?
How long would they chase him?
His foot got stuck and he tripped, face first into the dirt. A huge insect ran over his arm and Adam pushed it off, he scrambled back.
He heard shouting in the distance.
Adam clambered upright, he ran forward, pain throbbing from his right ankle.
“There!” someone shouted just as the ground disappeared beneath his feet, Adam rolled down a hill, he brought his arms up to protect his face, his skin get sliced by sticks and stones. His fall ended abruptly by a tree, for the second time that day, he felt all the wind being knocked out of his lungs. Adam grunted softly.
He pushed himself up, his sweat stung his scrapes and blood trickled down his arms. His leg felt sore and the world wouldn’t stop spinning. He cursed, for a moment it felt like he’d forgotten how to run, his legs refused to cooperate, and he felt sluggish. Still, he forced his body to keep moving.
He was going too slow.
He knew he’d lost the moment he started running.
His right leg hurt, it buckled under his weight, and he tripped again. He was covered in even more bruises, bleeding from several of them. This time when he tried to get up, his arms trembled too much, and he fell again.
It was the stranger with the shaved head who caught up with him first. The stranger was panting, he frowned while looking down at Adam.
Adam tried getting up for a second time.
He heard more footsteps.
“Ah, you caught him!” someone else said, “Damn, the kid can run. I’ll give him that,”
He slowly sat up, he was surrounded. When Adam looked back to the stranger, the man looked almost apologetic. Another crew member said something, making the stranger scowl.
“Help him up, we’re leaving.” He said.
“Please,” Adam tried again, he hated begging, he’d sworn he’d never beg for help. He’d sworn he’d make it out of there on his own, he was Adam Parrish, army of one. Pride was all he had left.
Hands wrapped around his arms, hauling him up. Adam’s legs gave up instantly, one of the men just picked him up, as if he weighted nothing. He tried to push him off, tried being the key word. His grip was too weak, he let out a helpless sound, “Let go!”
“Can’t I knock him out?” the man asked.
“Don’t hurt him.” the stranger said.
The man carrying Adam grumbled in discontent, he threw Adam over his shoulder as if he was nothing but a bag of rice. The crew began their march back towards the beach. Adam saw a knife hanging on the man’s belt. He reached for it.
“Oh no you don’t.” he heard.
Then the world went black.
Adam woke up with a cold splash of water. He shot up straight and gasped for air.
Joseph stood in front of him, holding an empty bucket. Everything about him was greasy, from his hair to his gold toothed smile to his toes. He made Adam reel with disgust. Joseph grinned widely and handed his bucket to a guy standing next to him.
Adam blinked rapidly; black spots appeared in the corner of his eyes. He felt himself tremble, his clothes stuck to him like a second skin and his body was sore all over.
“You’ve got quite the legs on you,” Joseph said with a vicious grin, he placed both arms on his hips while he stared Adam down.
Adam suddenly realized how thin his shirt was, he hugged himself, his teeth chattered from the cold water. When he looked around, he saw that he was below deck of a ship. Not his ship. He did not regonize this room. He stared outside of a porthole, all he could see was ocean.
His heart sunk.
“Oohhh look at him all modest.” Joseph coed, “Clean him up Proko, he fucking reeks.” He nodded towards the other buckets of water. Then Joseph turned his back and headed towards the stairs that led above deck.
“Wait,” Adam rasped, his throat hurt, and his voice sounded scratchy.
Joseph stopped.
“Let me pay you back,” Adam said, “I-I’ll repay my debt, I’ll work-“
Joseph laughed, “I don’t want you to pay me back, you idiot. You’re a gift. Until he gets tired of you, you belong to me.” He paused and considered this for a moment, “I’ll probably hand you over to the crew when that happens.” He looked Adam up and down again, “Don’t get your hopes up pretty boy, you’re not leaving this place.” He winked and then continued going upstairs.
Adam stared.
The guy, Proko, offered him a smaller bucket filled with clear water. Adam stared at it, he took it with trembling hands. The water rippled, he cupped his hands together to scope out some water and drank.
“Lynch’s an alright guy,” Proko said, he had a Central-European accent. Adam didn’t respond, he drank until he wasn’t thirsty anymore.
“Alright, up you go.” Proko said, he held up a sponge and soap. When Adam didn’t budge, only stared at him, Proko frowned, “Don’t make me punch you again.”
That explained the throbbing pain in the back of his head.
He stood up, when Proko gestured towards his clothes, he wrapped his arms around himself again. “Piss off.” Adam snapped eloquently, his voice hoarse.
Proko’s eyebrows shot up, “Might as well get used to it. You’ve heard the captain.” When he took a step forward, Adam took one backwards. Proko rolled his eyes. “What’s your plan? You can’t run on a ship. Unless you’re planning on swimming your way out of here.”
More like drowning.
“Let me do it,” Adam said, he held out his hand. Proko shrugged and handed him the sponge and soap, it was an expensive brand, the soap was purple and smelled of flowers. It smelled like the kind of soap rich ladies on land carried. Adam looked down at the soap, then at Proko. Adam turned his back towards him, Proko huffed in amusement.
Adam took a deep breath before pulling off his shirt, he removed all his clothing and tried to clean himself as quickly as possible.
“Down there too,” Proko reminded him, “If you don’t do it right, I’ll help.”
“Piss off,” Adam snapped, face burning.
Proko offered him clean clothes once he dried himself off. They were too big on him but comfortable, the fabric felt soft and luxurious. Nothing like what he used to wear. Proko let him put on his trousers before taking care of his bruises. He rubbed ointment on them, even the ones that were older, then he put bandages around the ones that needed it.
“How’s the leg?” Proko asked.
Adam had a huge purple bruise on it, it hurt like hell, but he had worse. “It’s fine.” He snapped.
Proko then reached for the bruise around Adam’s eye, he touched the tender skin and Adam flinched back. Proko sighed and held up both hands in surrender.
He told Adam to follow.
Adam wondered if he’d jumped off the ship, would the ship drag him under and drown him? Or would a shark perhaps mistake him for a fish and eat him? Would it be a quick and painless dead? Or would he die the way he’d lived his life so far? In pain and knowing it was all for nothing.
Proko led him to a cabin big enough to be the captains. There was a bed at the back, a desk filled with scrolls and weird objects Adam didn’t recognize. The large wooden armoire was wide open, clothes were scattered around the cabin’s floor.
On Adam’s right was a palett.
Ah.
A door opened behind his back. Proko strong hands forced him to turn around. Adam’s eyes widened once he saw it was the stranger from earlier who’d entered. His gaze as cold as ice, he was carrying a tray of food.
“That’ll be all Prokopenko, you can fuck off.” The stranger said, voice unkind.
Even though this man wasn’t Prokopenko’s captain, he still obeyed and left. Adam watched this strange dynamic happen in silence. When Proko closed the door behind him, the stranger sighed and walked towards the center of the cabin. He found an empty spot on the floor and put the tray down, he sat down in front of it, facing Adam.
Adam watched from a safe distance.
The stranger rolled his eyes and looked up, he gestured to the empty spot in front of him.
“I’m fine,” Adam said.
The stranger rolled his eyes, “I’m sure, sit down. We need to talk.”
“I want to buy back my freedom.” Adam said.
The stranger snorted, “And I never asked for a pain in the ass slave, sit the fuck down and listen.”
He hesitated and glanced at the door. He knew he’d lost his chance to escape, just as much as he knew that if he managed to reach for the weapon on the bed, he’d most likely still lose. Adam grew up avoiding violence as much as possible, he’d never learned to fight, only how to hide. His shoulders slumped, Adam walked towards the stranger and sat across from him. The stranger pointed towards the tray. There was soup and fresh fruits, wine, cheese, and bread. It was the sort of meal he’d watch his captain eat while he and his family ate moldy bread.
He was hungry. Starving, in fact.
When Adam reached for the spoon, the stranger didn’t stop him. He unpeeled an orange, his nails were clean. When a droplet ran down his thumb, he brought his hand to his mouth and licked it.
Adam was staring, when the stranger looked up and met his gaze, Adam snatched the soup away and put it on his lap. He knew it was a rude gesture, it would have gotten him into trouble on his previous ship. But the stranger simply raised an eyebrow.
Adam ate his soup, it smelled delicious, of spices and peppers. The taste was even better, he’d never eaten anything like it. The feeling of finally eating something warm after so long couldn’t be described, it felt blissful, Adam closed his eyes and breathed in.
“When was the last time you ate?” the stranger asked then.
Adam, for one unexpected moment, had forgotten he was there. He stared at the empty bowl, for a moment he considered licking it clean. He sighed and put it back on the tray. The stranger offered him his half-eaten orange. Adam stared.
“I always get bored of them, just eat it.” The stranger said.
Adam took it. Fresh fruit had been a luxury, oranges were beyond that. Something only given to him if absolutely needed. He wondered if he should rest his taste buds for a moment, let it sink in that for the first time in his life, he had to use them. Could his mouth be overwhelmed after tasting so much? He didn’t know you could put so much taste into one meal.
Slowly he brought one piece to his mouth and bit down. The skin broke and juice dripped over his lips, down his chin, the taste filled his mouth. He blinked rapidly, if he was going to die, he was glad that at least he knew what fresh oranges tasted like.
He allowed himself this moment of quiet before the storm. The stranger didn’t interrupt him, didn’t pull back the food and make him work for it until he was too tired to bother.
When Adam finished his orange, the stranger offered him a cup of wine. Normally, he would refuse. He hated alcohol, hated what it did to men when they had too much. But then he remembered Joseph’s words. He remembered his dad shouting ‘ten gold pieces’ over the sound of waves breaking on the shore. His bruises ached, and he was drawn back into reality.
He looked down at the tray, he suddenly felt sick. He met the stranger’s steady gaze and took the cup. Adam drank and scrunched his nose, it tasted awful. The stranger breathed out a laugh. Adam ignored him and finished his glass.
“Alright, let’s talk.” he said.
The stranger’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, the smile disappeared immediately, he replaced it with a scowl. He held up the bottle of wine, Adam breathed in and held out his cup. If he drank enough, he’d hopefully pass out and not notice a thing.
“I’m Ronan,” and suddenly the stranger no longer wasn’t a stranger. He was a young man with a name. Ronan didn’t offer him a hand, instead he filled Adam’s cup to the brim and poured wine for himself in the other cup.
Adam sipped from his second cup while Ronan finished his in-record time. He poured a second for himself, “Adam, was it?”
Adam didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to know the name of the man who’d-… he turned his head to stare at the bed. Names made it too personal, he thought. He didn’t want this.
He drank from his wine, when he held out his empty cup, Ronan hesitated for a moment, then filled it again. Adam’s cheeks felt warm, his head felt lighter, and the bruises no longer ached.
“Adam Parrish,” he said.
“Pleasure,” Ronan said the same way one would say, “Whatever,” he straightened his back, “Listen Parrish,” his voice was serious, “You’re in a crappy situation right now.”
Adam snorted.
Ronan gave him an unimpressed look, “You can’t pay me back, I can’t help you out of this because I didn’t buy you. The one who bought you is Kavinsky,” he talked slow, for a moment, Adam considered getting mad at him for treating him like an idiot, but he kept his gaze focused on Ronan’s face instead. Ronan looked just as troubled about this whole situation as Adam felt. Adam put his cup down and pulled up his knees, he wrapped his arms around his legs, his head felt heavy, and he let it rest on top of his knees. His eyelids drooped.
“Look, I don’t know how to say this nicely; K bought you as a prank.”
“I know.”
Ronan’s eyes widened, he then breathed in, he brushed his hand over his shaved head and mirrored Adam’s position. For someone so tall, he was good at making himself small.
“That doesn’t mean he’ll just leave you be. You have a job to fulfill.”
Adam glanced at his wine.
Ronan reached for it and took it away, “Listen!” he hissed.
Adam glared at him, “Does it matter if I listen? I already know what’s expected of me.” He sat up straighter, he gestured towards the bed, “How’bout we just cut the crap and let’s get this over with, no? Should I undress myself or would you like the honor?” he’d raised his voice. He was angry, he felt it boiling down in his stomach, his hands turned into fists.
His anger of course ebbed away as soon as he realized his mistake. Ronan was his captor, not someone to be trifled with. Adam groaned softly and curled up in himself again, “I’m sorry,” he said. Please don’t hurt me.
“Parrish, listen.” Ronan said, his voice steady, “I’m not going to do anything,”
That sounded unbelievable, he glared at Ronan with narrowed eyes, still mostly curled up on himself. Ronan looked like he wanted to punch something, he drank more wine instead before he continued talking, “I shouldn’t have given you that wine, by Josef, have you never had a drink before?”
He shook his head.
“Fucking hell,” Ronan shook his head, “Okay,” he pointed at the palett, “That’s yours,” he pointed at his own bed, “That’s mine.” He talked faster than before; Adam had trouble following him. “You’re a gift. Which means that in K’s eyes, right now, you belong to me. I believe it’s safe to assume that you and I both agree people aren’t property.”
Adam stared at Ronan. He shook his head.
“The moment I decide to get rid of you, you’re his again. I’m gonna reassure you right now that this is not going to happen. But K will get mad if it doesn’t look like I’m using you.”
Ah, of course. “You’re a real hero, you know.” Adam snorted, “Almost had me fooled,”
“What?” Ronan glared at him.
Adam shook his head, “Whatever,” he slowly got up, he felt sluggish and regretted the decision immediately. He stumbled towards the desk and leaned on it. He didn’t want to go near the bed, even though he knew that’s where they would probably end up. His hands were alarmingly steady as he unbuttoned his shirt, “Just fucking get it over with.” He said.
Ronan shot up as well, he walked towards him. There was still enough distance between them, Ronan didn’t get too close, but close enough for him to stop Adam from unbuttoning the rest of his shirt.
“Could you just… fucking let me finish?” Ronan said between gritted teeth, “I’m not going to have sex with you for crying out loud!”
This, Adam hadn’t seen coming, he blinked, opened his mouth to say something, then decided to just keep it shut and let Ronan finish. Ronan looked relieved.
On a second thought-, “Why not?” he asked.
“Because unlike that rotting fucking nitwit above deck, I prefer partners who consent.”
“How noble…” Adam muttered, “For a pirate.”
“You have no idea how much I’m regretting being nice to you.”
“Is this what you call being nice?” Adam countered.
Ronan took a deep breath and walked away from him, “You’re drunk.”
“Anyone would be in my situation.” Adam said.
Ronan headed towards his bed, he pulled off two pillows and a sheet and threw it at the palett. “Sleep,”
When Adam didn’t budge, he threw up both hands in frustration, “Or don’t. I’m leaving, whatever happens, do not leave my cabin.” He headed back towards the door, when Adam didn’t say anything, Ronan turned back to glare at him, “Say it.”
“I’ll stay.” He said.
Ronan stumbled back into his cabin. His head was pounding, in one hand he held onto a bottle of rum, the other hand he used to push open his door. Except the door was already open and there was nothing in front of him.
He stumbled towards his desk and put the bottle down. The boat was moving, he saw the bottle slowly lean towards the edge. When he tried to stop it from falling, he missed. The bottle fell with a loud thud, he cursed and kicked his chair.
Behind him there was movement, the rustling of sheets.
“Parrish!” Ronan said, his voice loud, he turned and headed towards the palett.
The person on the palett didn’t get up, but he did make himself look smaller. Ronan saw him pull the sheets over his shoulder. He walked towards him, each movement sluggish, he tripped and fell right on top of the palett.
“What!” Adam gasped.
“Parrish!” Ronan said again.
Adam was tense underneath him, his eyes wide while he tried to scramble away.
“I figured it out,” Ronan said, he tried to get up, but his arms refused to listen. “Help me up first,”
“You’re drunk.” Adam noted, he still put his hands on Ronan’s shoulders and pushed him up.
“Always am,” Ronan shrugged, he held up both hands and hushed Adam. He smirked, proud of himself for what he wanted to say, “I figured,” he hiccupped, Adam scrunched his nose once he caught a whiff of Ronan’s breath, “It out. I know how to make them not hurt you.”
Adam said nothing.
Ronan frowned at him, not pleased with this response. The least this guy could do was ask him ‘how’ or even a simple thank you would be nice.
One of them was breathing fast. When Ronan checked, he learned that it wasn’t him. He reached for Adam’s throat, Adam flinched, “Your hand.” Ronan reached out further until he could put his hands on Adam’s pulse.
His heart was beating faster as well.
“Did you take one of K’s pills?” he asked.
“What?” Adam all but wheezed.
“Did you?”
“No, I didn’t steal anything!”
“I didn’t say steal,” Ronan narrowed his eyes. He stared at the young man in front of him, Adam’s skin felt clammy, his eyes were wide, and he kept his gaze on Ronan. They followed every move he made.
Ronan knew what it meant.
Or at least, he thought he did. It was on the tip of his tongue, but when he opened his mouth, words didn’t come out.
Adam scrambled away in time; he fell off the palett while Ronan threw up.
“Fuck,” he groaned. How the fuck was Adam supposed to trust him if all he did was make things worse?
“Trust you?” Adam gasped. Had he said that out loud?
“I don’t like you.” Ronan concluded.
Adam looked at him, his mouth slightly parted. A moment passed, then Adam’s gaze hardened, his mouth turned into a thin line and his eyes narrowed, “The feeling is mutual.”
Ronan got up and with fumbling hands, he began to undress. “Don’t leave this room,” he said, then he dropped himself on his bed and passed out.
Adam was both furious and frightened. He couldn’t go back to sleep after Ronan woke him up. Most of it could be blamed on the fact that Ronan had just thrown up on the pallet meant for Adam to sleep on, while the other part was frightened he’d wake up with Ronan on top of him again. Ronan hadn’t made a move on him yet, had made it clear he didn’t want to touch Adam.
He'd be a fool to trust a pirate’s word. He’d grown up on a pirate ship. He knew they only cared about themselves, money, rum and whores. He’d rubbed his eyes while thinking about the last thing on the list he’d just made.
Adam had been bought.
His father had sold him.
Adam finally knew how much worth he was to his father. Ten pieces of gold. Which was enough to pay back his parents’ debt and return to the mainland. Adam had never seen the Americas; he’d only heard of it from stories. Their captain had preferred European seas. They’d often spend weeks on the sea without going on land, they’d lost many crewmates because of this. Adam had spent enough nights, fighting back tears while biting his lip in order not to scream in pain. Ill from eating rotten food and drinking slimy green water.
Ronan’s cabin reeked of vomit. The stench was nothing compared to what Adam was used to. Still, he got up and begun to wander around. Looking for something he could use to clean it up. When he found nothing, he went outside. His heart beating faster, while he held his breath. He climbed up the stairs slowly.
Once on deck, he cast a quick look around. Eyes wandering, he walked towards the railing. The moon hung high in the air, giving him a good view of what was in front of him. Nothing, but water. There was no land in sight. He looked down. I could jump. He thought. He’d seen men die like this. The water was too cold, the distance between the deck and the water too big, there were enough ways to die from jumping off a ship.
He shut his eyes and breathed in.
No, he’d find a way to get out of here. Before Ronan could make a move on him, preferably. His eyes scanned over the main deck, searching for rowboats. This ship was much bigger than his previous one. It looked more luxurious as well, he noted. Stolen.
“Did Lynch already get bored of ye?” A voice asked. Startled, Adam took a step back, he turned around.
Joseph Kavinsky, as Adam had learned, was staring at him. He was leaning casually against the railing. He’d cleaned up since the last time Adam saw him. The shirt he wore was pristine white underneath the moonlight. His hair was clean and whipped around his face.
Adam realized he was still only wearing a thin shirt, he suppressed a shiver.
Kavinsky grinned while staring him up and down. Adam didn’t bother to hide how disgusted he was by it. Which only made Kavinsky laugh loudly. Catching the attention of other crewmen who were still awake.
Adam hadn’t seen them earlier, but suddenly they were everywhere. He took another step back. His hip bumped into the railing.
“You can’t run this time.” Kavinsky said.
No, but he could jump, if that meant no one could get their hands on him. He’d lived through years of his father’s abuse. But he wasn’t going to live through what Kavinsky was expecting of him.
“He didn’t.” Adam said, lying through his teeth. His cheeks felt hot, just thinking about the fact that he was playing along. He fought back the urge to look around. A small crowd had gathered behind Kavinsky, laughing and muttering under their breaths. Jumping sounded so much better than hearing what they were whispering about him. “He’s drunk.” Adam said. “And threw up. He sent me to look for cleaning supplies.”
Joseph didn’t look convinced, “Sounds like he’s not using his gift for its intended purpose.” His crew snickered. Joseph cast a quick look over his shoulder, a shit-eating grin on his face. Adam hated him.
“Typical.” Joseph said and shook his head. “Well then, if Lynch isn’t using you…” the crowd grew louder. Adam placed his hand on top of the railing. Joseph never got to finish what he wanted to say. Someone threw a mop at Adam. He clumsily managed to grab it.
Joseph glared at Proko, who’d stepped forward. Proko didn’t seem bothered by his captain’s furious look. He looked at ease, almost nonchalant. “I kept Lynch occupied, that’s why he couldn’t use his gift yet.” He said and nodded at Adam. Adam clutched the mop tightly in his hands.
“You know he doesn’t like sharing, captain.” He continued, “At least give him a day before stealing his stuff.”
Joseph shrugged, “Whatever,” then; “You’re a terrible first mate, Prokopenko.”
Prokopenko did not disagree.
“Help him clean up.” Kavinsky ordered him, then turned around to face his crewmen. “And the rest of you, get back to work, ye bunch of scallywags.” The crowd broke up, muttering their disappointments. They were too slow according to Joseph, who shouted a bunch of colorful threats at them that got them all moving faster.
Prokopenko waited until he and Adam were alone, he grabbed Adam’s arm and hauled him back towards Ronan’s cabin. Adam tried to pull back his arm but found that Prokopenko had a very strong and painful grip. “Are you insane?” he hissed in front of Ronan’s door. “Leaving Lynch’s room without his company.”
“What am I? His pet?” Adam snapped, finally able to pull back his arm. He stumbled a step back from the force of it, his hand rubbed the now sore spot on his bicep.
“You’re less than that.” Prokopenko said. “Know your place, slave.”
Adam felt ice cold. He said nothing. At least now, he had a good comprehension of what position he was in. At least with his parents, he’d still been part of the crew. On this ship, he stood below the animals living onboard.
He should have jumped when he’d gotten the chance.
Prokopenko opened the door and pushed him inside, he slammed the door shut and went straight for Adam’s palett. He removed all of the sheets and cushions. Ronan hadn’t thrown up on the floor, so the mop Adam was carrying was useless, he dropped it on the floor with a loud clatter. The sound satisfied him. Prokopenko glared. Ronan didn’t wake up.
“Tell Lynch he has to man up and use you for what you were bought for.” He hissed on his way back out, “Or else the captain will hand you over to the rest of the crew, they won’t pamper you just ‘cuz you’ve got a pretty face.” One of the pillows almost slipped out of the pile he was carrying. “You can sleep in his bed, so that when he wakes up, all he has to do is roll over to use you.”
Adam was going to throw up.
Prokopenko left, he shut the door quietly.
Adam let out a pathetic sob while dropping down on his knees, his hands clutching onto the thin fabric of the shirt he was wearing. He wasn’t going to cry, he wasn’t going to cry.
He barely recognized the person he’d become in less than twenty-four hours; someone who begged and cried. Someone who missed his parents.