Page 40 of Lash

He produces a first aid kit from a cabinet and shoves it at me with a brusque jerk of his chin at Lorenzo. "He is shooted. Make him better. He die—you put over side. Yes?"

"He will not die," I answer.

He only shrugged. "Do not frighten passenger."

"We will go topside.”

He nodded. "Is very long sail. Eleven hour."

So we take ourselves topside while Sol stays with the captain, and I take care of Lorenzo's wound. It is a through-and-through, fortunately, and hit nothing important. I apply pressure dressings to both holes and Lorenzo stretches out across a row of seats. We are alone on the top deck while the handful of passengers on board huddle fearfully in the lower deck, along with the lone crew member. Scarlett stretches out on another row, drapes an arm over her eyes, and is asleep with the speed of a career soldier.

Tatiana watches her lay down and fall asleep almost instantly. "I wish I could do that."

"Do what?" I ask, and then follow her gaze to Scarlett. "Oh, fall asleep like that?"

She nods. "Yes. It usually takes me forever."

"There is a trick to it," I tell her. "It takes a lot of practice, but when you are a soldier, there is a lot of waiting around, and you learn to sleep when you can."

She only nods to this, and I sense the subject change. "Lash, about what I said…"

I take her hand. "Please, Tatiana. Stop." I kiss the back of her hand. "I am grateful. Truly. I was lost in my anger. You reminded me of my duty—to my brothers and Inez. Not only were you absolutely correct, but it was precisely what I needed to hear. I am indebted to you for having the courage to confront me with a hard truth."

"I just…" her eyes blur with unshed tears. "You deserve the chance for justice. Your family deserves it."

I slide my thumb beneath her eyes. "Tatiana, Lovely One…" I frown, hunting for words. "Justice…Revenge…they will not bring back my wife and children. I do not know if getting revenge will even assuage my feelings. Maybe I would sleep easier knowing Roberto Pugli is dead. But then again, maybe I would not. Who knows? What I know is that I cannot and will not shirk my duty. I will not break the oath I swore to my brothers."

She sniffles, wipes at her face. "I still feel badly. I know it was important to you. I do not want to take anything away from you." She tilts her head back and gives a gruff, frustrated groan. "I am so sick of crying."

I pull her close to me, wrap my arm around her. "It is okay, Tiana."

She shakes her head. "I know. I just…I do not like it. I do not cry almost ever, but…" she huffs a bitter laugh. "Things have been intense lately.”

"Yes, just a little."

She’s quiet for a moment. "I am going to ask you something. It is quite personal. It is none of my business, but I am going to ask anyway. You do not have to answer."

“Okay. I will answer if I can."

Another brief pause. "Ileana, your wife. What—what was she like?"

Pain stabs my heart at the sound of that name. "Oh, god. Ileana." I lean back in the seat, close my eyes, and think. After a while, I allow the words to pour out. "I have not thought about her, really thought of her, in a very long time. It is hard."

"Lash, you do not—"

"I want to," I interrupt. "Ineedto." I sigh. "What was Ileana like? She was joyful. Always, always joyful. She laughed all the time. It was very easy to make her laugh, and when she laughed,you wanted to laugh with her. It made you feel good. Her hair was like mine, only better. Longer, thicker, glossy as a raven's wing in the summer sunlight. She never cut it, only trimmed the ends once in a while. Sometimes she would braid it, but mostly it was loose. Often, she wore a…" I frown, the word I’m looking for momentarily eluding me—it comes to me in German, Romani, French, Croatian, half a dozen others that I know and have half-forgotten, but its English counterpart avoids my tongue, so I use the Croatian word. "Amarama. A scarf—that is the word. I could not remember it. She had many of them, in every color and pattern you can think of."

I smile, remembering. "The one she wore the most was…mmm, dark red. There is a word, but I am tired and cannot remember. Dark red, with black designs that looked like commas, you know?"

Tatiana nods. "I know what you mean. I cannot think of the word either, because I do not know it."

"This scarf had little golden coins sewn onto the edges, and they would make music when she moved." I close my eyes and picture her. "She was always moving, and it always seemed like she was dancing to music only she could hear. And those coins would tinkle, tinkle, tinkle."

I lapse into silence again for a moment.

"I said she was always joyful. It is true. But…she would sometimes become very sad. Not often. Only once in a while. But this sadness was not ordinary. It was deep. She would stay in bed for days and do nothing. She would not speak, would not eat, nothing. I could do nothing. It was awful to be so helpless. I could only leave her alone and wait. And then, it would pass like it had never been. It was like the sun came out after days of rain." I sigh. "I thought quite a lot about these sadnesses of hers. And I always thought that it was the price she had to pay for being so full of joy all the rest of the time."

"How did you meet her?" she asks.