Page 68 of Reaper’s Wrath

He brings his mouth to my face, his rotten breath invading my lungs. “This life can be as painful or as rewarding as you want it to be. I’m only too happy for you to fight—makes my fucking day. Just remember that every choice you make has consequences.” He emphasizes his point by sweeping my feet out from beneath me, sending me crashing to the wooden deck flat on my back.

I wheeze and mentally beg my lungs to function as endless seconds tick by. Slowly, I manage a few paltry breaths that calm my rising panic and sit upright, resting my arms on my bent knees.

When I lift my gaze, Stavros is gone, but I see that Kairos remains. His lips are pressed thin, and he gives me an almost imperceptible nod. Respect. Understanding.

He’s walked a similar path, and he’s still here.

Defeat bows my shoulders. This is my life now.

No, not my life.

I belong to the Greek. My life is forfeit.

Six Months Later

I pull back the bow, my penetrating stare glued beneath the water’s surface.

Wait for it.

Wait.

Now. I release my grip and allow the arrow to shoot free into the body of a red snapper fish.

“Hell, yeah. I got one!” I tug at the fishing line tied to the end of my arrow and retrieve my catch.

“You’re going to be better at this than me soon.” Kairos smirks.

Once the fish is out of the water, I wiggle the arrow to free it, then hold it up with a grin. “She’s gotta be at least five pounds.”

“Looks tasty,” Stavros says, announcing his appearance. “Especially considering we’re so low on supplies right now.” He takes the fish from me with a smirk. “I’ll take it to the kitchen.”

Fuck me.

Looks like Kairos and I will have to catch another if we want a fresh dinner. As the two youngest of a crew of fifteen, we’re at the bottom of the totem pole. I’ve come to understand the hierarchical system on board, but it still sucks sometimes.

“Careful, E,” Kairos chides me under his breath as Stavros disappears down below deck. “He catches you giving him that look, and you’ll get your ass kicked.”

Over the past six months, my lessons have come swiftly and often. I always thought I was decently agreeable, but it turns out I don’t take orders as well as I thought. Kairos is much more diplomatic around the senior crew. He’s exceptionally cunning, however, when the spotlight is off him.

“I’d take my turn to try for a fish, but my hand is still torn up. I really don’t feel like bleeding everywhere.” His bandage covers a gaping cut that required two stitches on his palm. Captain has allowed him to start training to fight. It’s a good thing, except in this world, they believe training works more efficiently when real weapons are used.

Stavros says it provides the right motivation to stay alert.

I think they’re fucking psychopaths, but no one asked me. They know how I feel, though. That’s why I don’t get to train. Maybe one day. Maybe not.

The Greek—our captain—says he’s building an empire. That if I play my cards right, I could rise with him and own the seas. I never would have thought it, but the idea appeals to me.

We’re getting a new boat soon. There’s talk it’s going to be some sort of yacht. It sounds like a dream, though I have no idea whether we’ll split the crew between the two boats or transfer everyone to the new one.

As my gaze scours the water to search for new prey, I think about what it might be like to live on a yacht. How great it would be not to deal with sails and cleaning the enormous open deck. Focusing on that sort of thing has helped me adjust to this new reality. I haven’t forgotten my past, but it also doesn’t haunt me every minute of every day.

I prefer not to think about it because that’s when the questions and doubts arise. I don’t want to blame them. My family. The people I love. But, in a way, being apart is easier when I tell myself they didn’t want me. If I blame DiAngelo for my circumstances and remind myself I was waiting on that street corner for Isa, who never showed up, the longing doesn’t carve me to pieces. Anger seems to be the only balm for my pain.

I hold my breath and train my eye the second a fish comes into view, then wait for the perfect timing.

Now.

“Woohoo!” I loose a wild cry. “I’m on a roll!”