The pirate boy (Frerard, Petekey)

Chapter twenty three - Yet again, Frank is enlightened by a prostitute

Chapter twenty three - Yet again, Frank is enlightened by a prostitute.

i have like eight homeworks tonight fuck me with a barbie

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The air smelled like strange, and the slick, dark walls of the Aurora were lit dimly by pale blue paper lanterns, dappled and torn like moonlight. The men all looked disturbingly clean: their clothes were well-fitted, their skin was of a healthy colour rather than pallid and tinged with grime, and some of them even had clean-shaven faces. Everything was out of place and I was already starting to regret the choice I had made, but it was done now, set in place, a heavy brick weighing down my stomach that I would have to live with.

Despite the unsettling mood of the ship, the crew all seemed fairly ordinary and unthreatening. Captain Wentz looked a little tough, with tanned skin from the open sun, dark hair swept over his eyes, and a perpetually smug expression on his face, but he was hospitable enough.

I recognised a few men from fights in the past, and the captain introduced me to some of them. The bearded man who had confronted me back on the Freighter– the captain had called him Hurley– somehow seemed a lot less intimidating after putting a name to his face. Seeing him talk to other crew members, he was more shy and awkward than aggressive, and I wondered if the Aurora's brutality and hate had just been a matter of perception, shifting easily the moment you accepted the view of another side.

Trohman, the man with curly hair who had been rather snarky towards Gerard, approached me when he saw me absently watching him talk with Hurley. "You made a smart choice, kid," he said.

I nodded uneasily. I wasn't sure I had. It had seemed a logical plan, in the moment– I didn't want to lose my mind, and I didn't want to stay in such close quarters with a man who had hurt his little brother– but it was only dawning on me now that these men had killed Michael, or at least tried to, and whether it had put him out of his misery or not, it was still horribly wrong. I was almost dizzy at how fucking stupid I'd been.

"Way's not one you want to be sailing under," Trohman said gruffly, shaking his head.

I opened my mouth to point out that Gerard wasn't actually the captain, but a clamour of whistles and cheers interrupted my train of thought, and I found myself turning with all the other men to what inspired the racket: a tall, beautiful woman making her way down the stairs from one of the cabins on the upper floor. Her dress was surprisingly classy, and not a single thing in her appearance looked amiss, despite the fact that she was leaving a man's room in the late morning, and it was rather clear what had taken place in the night. I expected her to sidle up to one of the men and ask for her payment, but instead, she walked straight up to me, the steady click of her heels on the planks slowing as she came to a still before me. "So," she drawled, "You're the little castaway from the Freighter?"

I raised an eyebrow. "I'll have you know I left of my own free will."

She parted her lips slightly, with a soft intake of air. "You're the scorpion boy."

"Perhaps," I said, carefully guarding my emotions and thoughts. I tried to remain closed and collected.

"I'm surprised Way let you escape."

My poised demeanour slipped briefly, but I held myself steady. "He didn't. He was gagged and bound." I tried not to flinch at the thought of Gerard struggling to reach me, left weak and helpless and bleeding. "What's it to you, anyway?" I asked curtly.

She cocked her hip. "You're the first one we've actually managed to save from him."

My mind flashed back to Michael. If the Aurora didn't consider killing him saving him, why the fuck did they feel they had the right to do it? I was about to confront the woman, but then it occurred to me that she was a prostitute, and most likely not privy to the innermost workings of the captain's mind. "And what do you intend to do with me now that you've allegedly saved me?"