"I'm allowed to care about my sister," Matt says. Now he's defensive, not just a little defensive. His brows are drawn downward into a V and his jaw is tight. "I'm allowed to check up on her and do things for her. It's what siblings do."
I clench my jaw. Even though it's not an obvious shot at me being an only child, it's easy to decipher what he means by it.
"So you're saying you kissed Corsa for your sister?" I ask, pushing him just as hard as he's pushing me.
His brow shot up, high beneath his hair. "I didn't think it was possible," he says, "but you're just like her, aren't you, Isla? You're jealous."
I feel myself wince at the comparison. Matt's eyes flash with momentary regret at his words but it disappears immediately from his brown eyes and he looks away. He locks his jaw; he isn't going to apologize for it, at least not yet.
"I'm not jealous," I insist.
I shouldn't have to tell him that. It should be obvious. He should know I'm not that kind of girl. But maybe he doesn't. Maybe there's something in my tone or the look on my face that reflects jealousy. Whatever it is, Matt believes I'm experiencing it and I hate that feeling of doubt that fills my stomach. Not that I doubt myself but that he doubts me. We're supposed to be a team. We're supposed to have faith in each other and work together and we aren't supposed to hurt each other. But Matt is hurting me and -
Maybe you're hurting him in turn and you don't even realize it, a voice inside of me points out. I want to dismiss it and hang on to my insistence that I'm right and he's wrong but I force myself to tease it out, to see what new insights I can acquire from seeing where this thought goes. Think about it; you're pointing out that he kissed her when he's insisting that it was reversed. You didn't even see the initial kiss, you just walked in on them already kissing. Don't you think you're doing the same thing by saying he kissed her? And now he's lashing out because you're hurting him and he wants to hurt you in turn. It's not the healthiest way to handle stuff but it's human nature; it's not uncommon. If you want a different reaction from him, you need to handle it differently.
But why does it have to be me? I ask myself, my tone both annoyed at the prospect of being the bigger person and frustrated that Matt isn't attempting to do the same thing.
If I had the power to hear an eye roll, I would have heard it from the first voice. That's your pride talking, Isla, it says. What's more important: being right or being happy? Because oftentimes in relationships, you can't have both.
I think about it. I feel the defensive tension leave my body and throw my eyes at Matt. We haven't even been together for twenty-four hours officially and already we're fighting. Is that a bad sign? Is that a signal for doom in our relationship? Or do things like this happen and I'm overthinking it? I hate that I don't have experience with this because I genuinely have no idea what to do.
"You're certainly acting like you're jealous," Matt puts in. His tone is snippy and totally immature but I force myself to remember that he's hurt and he's attacking me in response to that.
God, this is hard. No wonder I avoided this all my life. But I’m hoping all the songs and books and movies are right – that, in the end, when it’s with the right person, it’s always worth it.
I want to lash out. He has this tone that drives me up the wall and I clench my teeth together and let out a growl that I hope he doesn’t hear. It’s like, I’m trying to calm down, to calm both of us down, but it’s difficult when he doesn’t seem to want to calm down right now. At least, not yet.
“Listen,” he says, looking back at me. Those brown eyes look defeated, perhaps even a little regretful. “I don’t want to fight with you. Can I give you my surrender? Can we be friends again?”
I try not to smile as I watch him put up his hands. He looks so adorable with those big eyes and the slight pout in his lips and his high cheekbones and I can’t look away from him. I can’t be mad at him. Not when I love him so much.
I realize it’s easy to forget that. I know I don’t have that much experience with matters of the heart. And I can totally accept that. But in the heat of the moment, I can see how easy it is to give into anger. How easy it is to lose control of yourself. How easy it is to forget that you’re arguing with your best friend. I don’t want to lose that. Not with Matt. But I’m also aware that I have a quick temper. I feed my anger with negative thoughts, not only about him but about myself. Even now, in this moment, I hear vultures in my ears, screaming about how much prettier Corsa is than I am, that she probably pleased him more because she’s much practiced. She’s cooler than me, she and him have a history and history always wins. And I felt myself give into those thoughts, give truth to those thoughts, and suddenly, I was arguing not with Matt but with my fear, this deep dark fear I didn’t even know I had. It morphed into this threat of losing my relationship, and I’m blinded to it even now.
I can’t lose myself again. But I probably will. I just need to remind myself. And if I’m not strong enough, I hope that he will.
“Of course, we can,” I say. I want to throw my arms around him and bring him to me. I want to forget this ever happened. But I want to resolve this more. I don’t want to fight over the same things constantly. “I’m sorry if I sounded jealous. I wasn’t trying to, but I can understand why you might think that.” I look away. I can’t lie to him. If I’m going to do this whole relationship thing right, I have to go all in. “Okay, maybe I was a little jealous.” I shrug, like this is no big deal, but in reality, it’s a very big deal. I never get jealous.
Matt’s lips curl up into a smirk at my admission and his eyes shine. “I know,” he says. “It’s nice to hear I’m not the only one.”
“You’re jealous?” I ask. “Of who? I haven’t gotten hit on by anybody.”
“Hit on?” The phrase sounds foreign in his mouth. “Please tell me this is one of your future euphemisms because if anyone has hit you, I swear to the Heaven’s that I will” –
I nod. “Yes, yes,” I say. “It means to get charmed or wooed by a potential partner. Not actual hitting. I’m not sure why we call it that, but that’s what it means.”
Before he can stop himself, Matt strides over to me and takes me in his arms. His hands are on my forearms, my hands clutching his chest. I find now that we’ve been together, I don’t very much like to be away from him.
“Isla,” he says in that way only he can say my name, “you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don’t deserve you. I’m a man with a black heart. I’ve done very bad things in my life and many of them I do not regret. You are the one I want to be with, not some whore I barely even remember. You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve laid eyes upon, both inside and out. That hasn’t changed. It never will.”
I want to question that. I want to tell him that there’s no way for him to know that; even the people who are most in love can’t accurately say that they’ll be together forever. But it’s something I bite my tongue on because I’m trying this new thing where I trust him without question, without worry, without thinking of a future without him. Because that’s not a future I want to even entertain.
“And yes,” he says, taking one hand from my forearm and tilting my chin up so I can look him in the eye. “I’ve been jealous of any man that looks at you a certain way. Perhaps you don’t notice it, but I do. I have no choice but to notice it. I’m not the only one who realizes just how beautiful you are, you see.” He pushes his brow up to emphasize his point.
I feel myself smile as my cheeks turn pink. “You’re pretty beautiful too,” I say. The words come out awkward and jumbled and I shake my head internally at my completely botched compliment, but he chuckles and pulls me close until we’re kissing.
Everything is right again. The world is still spinning on its axis. Everything is okay.
And then the door bursts open and Henry stomps inside, breaking us from our kiss.
Bastard.
Matt breaks apart from the kiss so quickly I nearly topple over.
&nb
sp; "Henry," he says. His body is tense, his eyes are narrowed in slight suspicion but he's not completely guarded. Why would he be? He doesn't know any better; he doesn't know what a monster Henry is. "Everything all right?"
Matt questions Henry because of the dark look on Henry's face. His brow is furrowed so low over his eyes, his hair falling in his face. The wrinkles on his face are somehow more defined, the shadows zig-zag across his prominent features, making him look even more intimidating than he already is. His shoulders are hunched and his eyes are looking at me - no one else, they're locked on me. I swallow, because jeez, I am intimidated by him. I mean, I feel okay with Matt there. I know there's no way in hell Matt would ever let anyone hurt me, especially not Henry, but I don't want anything to happen to him.
"Actually, no," he says, his eyes still on me. He's not even looking at Matt even though Matt is standing in front of him. "Your new and probably temporary fuck knows something I need to talk to her about."
Matt rolls his shoulders back, appearing more tall and broad than he really is. He uses his height to his advantage and he looks down at Henry over his nose. His jaw is locked, his eyes turn black as they narrow even further at Henry, and his voice is a quiet roll of thunder off in the distance - a warning that a storm is coming and damage is inevitable. "Excuse me?" he says.
"You heard me." Henry doesn't much care about Matt's warnings. I not sure if Henry is just naive to Matt's threats or if he genuinely doesn't care - which would make Henry dumber than I originally think he is. "I need to speak to Isla. Now."
I swallow. How do I even respond to that? I watch as Matt curls his long fingers into fists and even though he’s silent, I can see those fists start to shake. He’s angry – more than angry, he’s furious. I don’t think he expects Henry to talk to him that way, especially about me. I don’t think Matt reacts well to blatant disrespect, of himself and of his girl. He doesn’t know how to handle it, especially considering the man in question is his sister’s husband.
I don’t know the proper protocol either. I wish I could help him but I don’t want to say anything that will contradict Matt and thus cause proof of a divide between us. So I keep my mouth shut.
“I don’t think so,” Matt says, leaning his body to the side, blocking Henry’s view of me.
“Don’t make me hurt her, Matty,” Henry says. “Although, I think I’d enjoy doing so. Very much.”
Chapter 20
"I swear to God," Matt says as he stands blocking Henry from coming to the door, "if you touch her, I will murder you with my bare hands and no one will be able to recognize your sorry excuse for a physical form."
I watch from the bed as Henry narrows his eyes at Matt. He still makes no move to push past the pirate and get inside though I'm sure the thought has crossed his mind. Henry's not a complete idiot. The only stupid thing he's done is start up a relationship with a young prostitute in his wife's brothel and then get caught. Then, after finding out who knows, murders the two people who found out. Also, letting the girl he had the affair with get away. Also, underestimating Matt's talents as a pirate and at rescuing his only family from certain death, bringing her back here so she came back to her husband and her job safely, and essentially, freeing her from any possibility at getting arrested again.
Okay, so maybe Henry is kind of an idiot.
"Which her are you talking about, Matt?" Henry asks, shooting him a coy grin. His eyes sparkled with knowledge, a knowledge Matt is not aware of, which is why he seems so jovial. "Your sister or your lover? And before you give me your answer, think very carefully. You are choosing between them, after all."
"What are you talking about?" Matt asks through gritted teeth. He shifts his weight and it's only then do I realize Henry is pointing a gun - I think it's a pistol but I can't be sure; its double-barreled and is a sleek silver color except the grip which is brown. It's cocked and ready to be fired should Henry choose to shoot - at Matt's chest. That's why Matt hasn't done anything when he clearly can; it's because Henry has him at a stalemate, and Henry is as unpredictable as the weather here. Matt doesn't want to give him any reason to do something stupid.
"You have a choice," Henry says, as though it's the most obvious thing in the world. "If you want to save Sarah, you must sacrifice your wench. If you want to save her" - he points the gun over Matt's shoulder at me for a fraction of a second - "you must sacrifice your sister. But you can only choose one and you must choose now. Save this woman you think you're in love with or save your only family left in the world."
"Why are you doing this, Henry?" Matt asks. I think he's doing it to buy himself some time but there's something in his tone that indicates he is curious about Henry's motives. "Sarah adores you and she's never given you any reason to not be true to her. I don't understand."
"Of course you don't understand," Henry says, rolling his eyes. "You're the problem. It's always been you."
Matt looks like he doesn't understand. I do, though. Matt and Sarah are close, which all siblings should be. I personally don't have a problem with it. But I understand the frustration of helping said sibling when perhaps they should be focusing on their significant other. If that makes any sense.
"You." Henry's eyes flash and he clenches jaw. It's clear that this has been building for a long while and now that he's finally given the opportunity to unleash his opinion of Matt into the world, he wants to choose his words carefully so his message packs the appropriate punch and everything that needs to be said will be said. "This is your fault. And I promise you, I'm going to make you pay."
The look on Matt's face is passive and unconcerned – even as he stalks to the bed, keeping his pistol on Matt, and yanking me down so I’m in his arms - but I do notice that his jaw is locked and his body is tense. Perhaps it's because Henry has a hold on me and there's nothing I can do to get away from him. There's nothing Matt can do, either, especially considering that pistol is now pointed underneath my chin.
"Sarah is my wife," Henry begin, narrowing his eyes at Matt. I already know where this is going but I listen, keeping my eyes on Matt, trying to gage the look on his face. "Yet you are the one she turns to when she needs assistance for everything. She has accounting trouble, let's ask Matt. She needs business advice, let's ask Matt. There's a leak in the second story washroom, Matt will know how to fix it. Matt, Matt, Matt. Matt Scott, the wanted pirate. The reason she was arrested in the first place. You know that, right? When word got around that she was your sister, they arrested her on purpose to try to lure you in and arrest you. They were never going to hang her. She didn't know it, but I did. Who do you think told the Navy about your relation in the first place?"
Matt clenches his jaw. So do I.
"They were going to release Sarah once they had you," Henry continues. "She never would have known she was an unwilling accomplice in your capture and subsequent death. You would be out of the picture and I would be the one she turned to. Me, her husband. I wouldn't need to seek the arms of another because my wife would finally look at me like I'm her husband. But, from what I hear, she ruined everything." He turns to me, his eyes narrowing and his grip on me tightening. I know I'm going to have bruises. "Tell me, does he go to Sarah instead of you? Does he do things for her that she - or I - can do for her?"
"I don't question what Matt does for his sister," I say, because I have to answer quickly. Any hesitation would be a revelation of truth into what Henry says and I don't want to encourage him even though I agree with him to a point. That realization makes bile rise up to my mouth and I cringe as I swallow it back down. "I don't have any siblings; I don't know what type of relationship they're supposed to have. I don't think it would be appropriate of me to start questioning Matt and Sarah's. It is what it is and that's it. If I want to be with Matt, I need to I understand that."
Henry looks at me, trying to decipher if I'm being honest in my evaluation. He looks doubtful. I hold his gaze and hope nothing gives me away.
"You don't have a brother or a
sister?" he asks, with one raised eyebrow. When I nod, he spts on the floor. "I have two brothers and a sister. They don't ask me for things the way Sarah asks Matt for things. They don't do things for me the way Matt does for Sarah. They each have their spouses they can count on directly, and if they need anything else, they're always free to ask me. But they don't go to me first. Why should they, when they have a partner right there, willing to help?"
"Yes, but you need to understand that Matt and Sarah are close." I know the only reason I'm defending Matt is because Matt is the man I love and Sarah is his sister. But Henry actually makes sense to me and I can understand his side. Of course, that doesn't mean I think he needs to go and kill everyone or have an affair, but he's not wrong in his concern. "They had a difficult life together. They only have each other and it's been that way for the longest time. You can't just change it."
"Oh yeah?" Henry asks doubtfully. "What do you do?"
I stop myself from responding to this quickly and force myself to think. My words may or may not have an impact on Henry but I know that Matt is listening and I want to make sure he understands what the problem is and maybe, hopefully, he'll realize why his choices have been problematic, regardless of the fact that they're coming from a good place.
The Art of Persuasion: Book 4 of The Swashbuckling Romance Series Page 17
