Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
CYRUS
Tally’s trying to act brave– acting like this isn’t affecting her down to the marrow– but as she stands in front of the wrought iron door that leads into the brig, she falters.
Her bare feet scrunch into the splintered wood at her feet, neither desperate to enter or wanting to leave.
When August and Jude join us– the latter carrying parchment, ink and a quill– I use it as an excuse to block Tally off with my body, allowing her a moment to breathe without prying eyes.
August is here for when we’re finished getting information, she enjoy’s torture more than anyone I’ve ever met, more than willing to clear out our remainders once we’re done.
This is her domain. Jude, as the one with the best writing skills aboard and parchment storage amongst her maps, takes notes of any information gathered.
That way, once it's over nothing gets forgotten and it's easier to pick out what is a lie and half truths.
They talk with Amara for a moment, completely ignoring me and Tally after a welcoming nod and I use it as a brief reprieve. Twisting to look over my shoulder, I gaze at the side of Tally’s profile.
“You don’t have to be here for this part, love. We can handle this.” I whisper, wanting no one else to overhear.
She shakes her head, tendrils of her hair whipping the sides of her face as she does. “No. No, I need to do this. Killing, that’s something I’ve done plenty of, but torture’s a different ball game. But I need to be here.”
“Okay, I understand. You don’t have to be the one doing the torture though, we can do that. August would actually love being able to inflict the pain for you. You can ask questions, or even just watch.”
Her lips ripple as she harshly exhales. “Would you do it for me?”
I don’t even consider what she's asking before I’m nodding. There isn’t anything she could ask me that I would say no too. Not now, not ever.
“We’ll do this together, love.”
Voice low, she whispers, “I love you, dove.”
I grin, a complete contrast to the moment. “I love you more.”
We finish the conversation in time for the others to face us and usher us inside.
The temperature noticeably drops, chills working through every bone.
Mabel visibly trembles, yet she persists and enters anyway.
Multiple cells line both walls, thick iron bars bolted into the floor and ceiling.
The floor is covered in mud, bits of hay and remnants of bodily fluid.
It’s revolting and the most perfect conditions for our three captives.
Spread out among the space, Hago and his two minions sit in their respective cells, chains wrapped around their necks and wrists, weighing them down and keeping them attached to the bars.
Hago is ahead and to the right, quivering in the corner with his head between his knees.
All the glitz and glam he had for show on the dock yesterday whittled down to nothing.
The other two men reside on the left, both looking bored– almost as if they expect the outcome of this to be death and are just waiting to get on with it.
They’ll also likely want to die with their information, instead of willingly giving it up. Unlike Hago. With barely any pressure, that bastard will crack open like a walnut.
I drag a chair over from next to the door, up to Hago’s cage.
August opens it for us and I drag the chair inside the cell with him.
Leaving a few feet of space between me and him, I sit.
Tally leans against the bars of the cell, not quite inside but still present.
It makes me unbelievably proud she isn’t pushing herself too far.
Chains rattle, Hago’s crumbled form suddenly strikes forward. Throwing himself at me with fingers outstretched, as if he even had a chance of gouging out anything.
I allow him to get close, the gleam in his eye growing with each new millimetre he charges. Then my boot comes up, the toe smacking beneath his jaw with a bone rattling smack. Blood sprays from his mouth, flying into the air before coming down to land on him. With any luck he bit his tongue.
He writhes on the floor, still conscious but in a hell of a lot of pain. There will be a lot more of that before the day is over.
Resting my elbows on my knees, I lean forward. “Now, shall we try this again? I’ve got a lot of questions for you, and you’ve got a lot of skin I can make bleed. So–” I shrug, acting like I couldn’t really give a shit. “I suggest you answer them.”
Hago’s answering growl is pathetic– Jude’s cats are more terrifying than him.
Taking out a blade from my belt, I spin the tip on my finger. Doing everything to remember how to return to a statue; not allowing him to see I am affected by this, because Tally’s affected.
Keeping my eyes trained on the spinning blade, I ask, “Let’s start with why? Why did you think it was a good idea to start a vendetta against Tally?”
He says nothing, just glares with pure venom in his eyes.
With a sigh, I snap my arm out, tracking the blade over his cheek bone, leaving behind an overflowing waterfall of red. His wails are piercing and I suppress a wince at the expanse of my ear drums.
“Come on, Hago. You chose this, now live with the consequences of your actions.”
His nostrils flare as one side of his face becomes a valley of red. “Our island is beautiful, and that whore opened it up to the likes of you fuckers. She’s killing us off for the sake of money, inviting murders and molesters into her ranks just for money and fucks.”
I allow him to finish before giving his other cheek a matching slice. “Now I appreciate you cooperating, but maybe refrain from insulting Tally in front of me.”
I listen to his wails for a second before demanding he continues.
His glare is still present but it's starting to lack heat. Starting to accept he’s not leaving this cell alive.
“After you lot left, another ship docked, a more sophisticated one. The master of the ship found me bitching about Tally, and offered me a solution of taking her out as well as helping to eliminate you. He knew you’d come running back the second Tally sent word.
It was just a case of getting her to a point of suspicion and fear to ask you.
She lasted longer than we thought she would, it’s why we set her hut on fire, to make her finally send for you.
” Damn, he's quaking faster than a duck and he’s barely bleeding.
“Who was this master?”
“He went by the name Thomas.”
August reaches through the bars, gritting out the next question for me. “Thomas who?”
A voice from the cell on the other side of the brig laughs, “You’ll never stand a chance against the Thomas family.”
August stiffens, but swings her gaze to mine and gives a nod. If she knows of them, there's no point in trying to get what little information Hago has on them. Not when the why is much more important.
Turning back to Hago, I continue. “This Thomas offered you a way of sparking a rebellion, to get rid of Tally and to lure us here.”
It’s a statement over a question, making sure I’m correct in my assumptions. He nods, dropping his gaze down to the dirt covered wood.
“And what did he offer you in return?”
His gaze darts around the brig, flicking to the other two captives before dropping back to the floor.
“He offered a group of men to help me create the incidents. I hid them in a cave down on the other side of the island, so they could stay undetected by you. Then he promised to help me become leader once she was dead. He was meant to be my backing.”
“They went off script when they set that fire in the tavern, didn’t they?”
He nods. “We were meant to torment her more before making the big move, get her scared shitless and get the people on our side, but she never seemed to reach it. We knew you had your suspicions on me, so they set the fire whilst I was there to offset the suspicion and hopefully kill a few of you.”
Now I smirk, nothing about any of his plans has gone right. He’s faltered at every single hurdle. “But no one died in that fire and we found your cloak. When you ran you only confirmed everything.”
“Which is why we decided that the ship attack was to happen when it did.”
“And you severely underestimated what we’re capable of. Even after being around for that battle, you didn’t expect us to be able to take out a few measly minions. You got sloppy and now it’s killed you.”
Now the glare has vanished, instead tears stream like rivers through the mass of red on his cheeks.
“What was the end goal here? Just for you to take over, and kill every pirate that dares come here?”
He nods at the ground, fingers trembling in their shackles. It’s embarrassing how quickly he caved, I barely did any damage to him. But that doesn’t mean he won’t receive more once we're done with him. August will keep his days full until his end.
Turning to Tally, I give her a gentle smile, encouraging her to answer my next question. “Anything you want to ask, love?”
She goes to shake her head, but stops and steps forward instead. “Why do you hate me so much? What the fuck did I ever do to you to make you hate me?”
He refuses to look up, stuttering over a single syllable.
“Answer her, Hago.” Twisting the dagger to catch the lantern light, a clear threat written in the smallest of movements.
“Because you didn’t want me.”
Confusion floods me, making me look up at a wincing Tally. “We only fucked once, Hago, and it was awful.”
He flinches as if he was smacked physically, not verbally.
Tally huffs a laugh, “Seriously? You wanted me and couldn’t have me, so what? No one else could have me either and I should die?”
When he continues to cower in the corner, she lets out an unbelieving laugh. “Wow, that's low, Hago. Whatever happens to you, you deserve.”
I watch her walk out the cell, confident steps leading her to the wrought iron door. She disappears through it, hearing more than enough of this bullshit. It takes me less than a second to decide I’m done here too.
Standing up, I cast August a glance. “They’re yours now.”
I trust her to get the rest of the missing information, such as why this Thomas wants our crew dead. Why they sought out and used Hago specifically.
Amara and Mabel hang back, quietly muttering to August and Jude, before they follow me out.
Shame I don't give much of a shit about where they plan on going. I plan on finding Tally. Not willing to rest until I have her in my arms and make sure she’s okay.
It doesn’t take much wondering to find her on the top deck, leaning onto the railings at the edge and staring out over her island, fingers white knuckling the wood in a death grip. Her hair gently blows in the wind, tendrils dancing to the beat of their own drum.
Slowly I close in, stepping to stand next to her and staring out in the same way she is. Neither of us speak for a while, both just enjoying the view and me giving her silent support.