Chapter Twenty-Two #2
When she hesitated, the pirate captain gave her a push toward the gangplank. “Go on.”
Her heart beat wildly at the prospect of going back to Thorne’s ship. But when she raised her gaze, Isaac stood there, still flanked by the two pirates. She wouldn’t be alone. He wouldn’t be alone.
So, she leveled her chin and stepped back out onto the precarious board. This time, her steps were even. She made it halfway across when the wood trembled beneath her feet.
Thorne stepped out. “A Caribbean girl such as yourself does know how to swim, right?”
Josephine froze as he closed the distance between them.
“Leave her be, Thorne.” Isaac’s voice rang through the air, heavy with command.
“Calm yourself, Lieutenant. I’m not always as heartless as you think.” Thorne scratched his chin. “Though, it’s been a while since I’ve made someone walk the plank. I’ve forgotten how very much I like this.”
“Damn it! I had your assurance of her safety.”
“And here she is, alive and safe.” The pirate drew a circle in the air around her with his blade. “You didn’t specify where.”
Isaac jerked his arms, twisting from the grip of the brutes holding him. He swung, fist crashing into the jaw of the nearest one before two more jumped forward and held him back.
Thorne grinned. “That’s more like it. I was beginning to think I’d pegged you wrong.” He lifted his sword and pressed the sharp point between Josephine’s shoulder blades. “Go on now.”
She hurried the rest of the way across, vaulting over the railing to stumble onto the deck.
As soon as she regained her footing, she flew straight to Isaac and threw her arms around him.
His heart slammed against her cheek, the wild thumps betraying his rigid posture.
The pirates dropped his arms and he folded them behind his back.
“Steady, Miss Montclair.” He murmured the words so only she could hear.
With a swallow, she released her grip and stepped back.
His blue eyes looked over her shoulder, deliberately ignoring her while Thorne strolled across the plank and stepped onto the deck.
He stopped short of them and met Isaac’s gaze.
An uneasy silence stretched while he regarded them with sharp, calculating eyes.
Finally, the pirate’s lips twitched. “Welcome to the Avenger, Mr. Caldwell.”
Isaac’s lips drew into a thin line, but he didn’t respond to the captain’s intentional slight. He’d been demoted.
Thorne walked past him, nodding to his men in an unspoken command. They burst into life, climbing the rigging and setting the sails. “I apologize we don’t have a cabin for you on such short notice.”
Isaac followed him to the stairs leading to the quarterdeck. “Well, maybe you should have thought that through before dragging her back on board.”
Thorne’s eyes narrowed and he waved the two pirates back over. “Take them to the brig then. If they want privacy, they can have it there.” Without another look, he climbed to the helm, his silhouette dark against the setting sun.
One of the brutes grabbed Isaac’s arm and dragged him forward.
Josephine swallowed and followed them to the main hatch.
Down the narrow steps they went, into the bowels of the ship where the light faded and the stink of sweat and gunpowder grew thick.
Another hatch and the brig loomed below—iron bars bolted to beams carved in the hull.
The door creaked open on rusted hinges, and the men pushed them in.
After locking them in, one of the men hooked a lantern onto a crooked nail, and they both climbed up.
The hatch cover banged shut and Josephine flinched.
Dim light pulsed with each sway of the ship, breathing unease into the narrow cell.
Every creak of the hull, every gust of wind through the planks, and the walls seemed to close in a little tighter.
Isaac stood with his back to her at the door, his head leaning against the bars. She stepped forward, but he lifted a hand. “Give me a moment.”
The lantern flame flickered, casting shadows that danced across the walls, painting his face in shifting hues of grief. She didn’t move. Couldn’t.
The silence between them stretched—thick, suffocating—wrapping around her ribs like iron bands.
The cost of what he’d done haunted the damp air, heavy and unspoken.
They stood that way for what seemed like hours, breathing in the same heavy silence, as though a single movement, a single word, might shatter them both.
The thud of boots came from above.
Josephine stiffened as the hinges groaned again and the hatch door swung open.
He descended the stairs like a shadow given life, each slow step tugging the darkness after him.
He didn’t speak as he approached, eyes gleaming in the low light like a cat watching cornered mice.
A crystal glass rested in his fingers with several fingers of amber liquid that caught the light like fire. A key dangled in his other hand.
The captain studied them both for a long moment, then finally spoke, his voice low. “You joined me. Not as a prisoner, but as a member of my crew. I don’t intend to keep you locked up. You’ll work for your freedom.”
He slid the key into the lock, the cold metal scraping as he twisted it. For a heartbeat, he stared at Isaac, his eyes nearly black in the shadows. Then, with a click, the door swung open.
Isaac strode from the cell with purpose and stopped in front of the pirate. “Tell me, Thorne, now what? You sail to Savannah, cut down Ross, and walk away? When does it end? Will you ever truly find peace?
Thorne swirled his glass, staring into the liquid depths. “There is no peace for a man such as me. I’ve accepted that fate.”
“How? How does a man whose life was bound to uphold the law, to do what is honorable and right, end up like this?”
A terrible calm filled Thorne’s eyes, like the sea before a storm.
His fingers tapped the side of his glass in slow succession.
“Don’t try to play my past against me. It’s a game you’ll never win.
Besides, there are monsters much worse than myself walking free.
” A slow smile spread across his face. “Who are you to decide what’s right and wrong? ”
“It’s my job. Just as it used to be yours.”
Thorne threw back his drink, then leaned forward. “Precisely.”
A shiver ran through Josephine at the icy calm in the pirate’s voice, the weight of his words settling in her chest like a stone. Isaac stood rigid with jaw clenched as the captain rubbed his thumb along the rim of his empty glass.
After an uncomfortable pause, he extended his hand. “I’ll take your uniform jacket, Caldwell. You won’t be needing it here.”
After a long pause, Isaac shrugged free of it.
The captain crumpled it in his hands before he turned and climbed to the hatch. At the top, he paused, his figure dark against the faint light from above. He looked down at Isaac, his eyes cold and calculating. For a moment, he said nothing, the weight of his gaze hanging in the air.
“I’ll tell you this once, and once only. If you disobey a command—if you step an inch out of line—you’re dead. There are no second chances on my ship.”