Chapter Twenty-Three #2
With a sidelong glance at her, Isaac strode forward and ducked into the shadowy cabin. Josephine began to follow, but the captain lifted his hand.
“A private word.”
Her pulse quickened, and she halted mid-step as Thorne pivoted and stepped through the door.
It closed with a soft click, leaving her standing alone, the quiet of the deck pressing in on her.
The pirates loitering nearby gave no comfort, their laughter low and rough, beady eyes flicking over her with calculating interest.
She took a deep breath but the salty air did nothing to calm her nerves.
A stack of crates had been secured in place against the wall and she reached for the nearest one and perched on the edge, her knees pulled up to her chest. The murmur of voices reached her and she frowned, looking to both sides.
The cabin itself had no windows facing the deck to speak of, only a small vent at the top of the wall, narrow and wrought with rust.
With a swallow, she moved to a crate just below it.
Leaning her head back, she tilted her ear closer to the opening.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she strained to hear, every creak of the ship suddenly deafening in the silence.
Still, she focused, desperate for any fragment of information that might shed light on what was happening inside that cabin.
“Tell me about Ross’s involvement.” Isaac’s voice came low, warped by the timber and rusted metal.
She stretched her back, adjusting her position. There. The scrape of a chair. The heavy footfalls of boots pacing.
Thorne cleared his throat. “He came to me during the war. Said he had found a way to double our salary, but he needed my assurances of secrecy.”
More silence.
“I asked him if it involved anything illegal,” Thorne continued, his voice low, almost a murmur. “He refused to answer me.”
The rustle of paper came and Thorne’s voice cracked. “All this time, after all the men I’ve hunted down and made pay, and it was him behind it all. That bastard took her from me.”
“There’s better ways to do this, Thorne.” Isaac’s voice cut through the air, sharp and frustrated. “Killing him doesn’t—”
A fist slammed against wood and Josephine jumped, the sharp crack echoing through the vent.
“Do not try to hamper me, Caldwell,” Thorne’s voice came dangerously quiet, his fury palpable. “If you get in my way again, I’ll make sure your woman doesn’t see another day on this ship.”
Isaac let out a low chuckle, the sound rough and humorless. “You’ll have to find another way to threaten me.”
A pause, then Thorne’s gruff voice. “What are you on about now?”
“Look, you were right about Christian and Samantha, but there’s nothing between myself and Miss Montclair.”
Josephine leaned back against the wall as the words sank like stones in her stomach. A suffocating pressure wrapped around her lungs, her heart stuttering, her thoughts tangling. Surely, she had misheard him.
Thorne’s disbelieving laugh rang through the cabin. “Don’t waste your time trying to convince me otherwise.”
“She’s nothing more than a passing fancy, a whim indulged. I mean, look at her, who could resist?” The cruel words cut her, each one deeper than the last, and his easy laughter fell over her like a blade she couldn’t deflect. “She’s not my woman. Never will be.”
Ice slid through her veins, a sharp pain twisting in her chest like a knife. Her spine pressed harder against the cold timber, hands trembling as they clutched the edge of the crate beside her.
She wanted to scream, to call him a liar through the vent. To demand he explain why he would say such a thing when only minutes ago, his mouth had found hers like it was the only truth left in the world. When his hands had held her like something… like something that had mattered.
The silence that followed in the cabin was worse than any sound. It rang in her ears, hollow and final. Her chest heaved as she bit back the sob clawing its way up her throat. She wouldn’t cry. Not here. Still, hot tears burned at the corners of her vision.
The back of her hand swiped across her traitorous eyes and she turned her face toward the shadows, wishing she could rip his words—rip him—from her memory.
“Well, hello, Miss Montclair.”
Her spine went rigid at Burke’s drawled words. She refused to look his way in an effort to get him to move on. He didn’t.
“Where’s your protector?” he murmured, stepping in too close. Rough fingers slipped through a lock of her hair.
She jerked her head back and swatted his hand away. “Leave me alone.”
He laughed. “You wound me. Just think what good acquaintances we could make.”
His arm snaked out, fingers digging into her flesh. She tried to twist away but his other hand slid around her waist, fingers splaying across her hip as he leaned in, breath hot and foul.
“You’ve got spirit,” he said, dragging her from the crate and a half-step toward him. “That’ll make it more fun.”
She stiffened, bile rising in her throat. The ship went still as conversations faded and footsteps slowed. But no one stepped forward. Why should they? They were pirates. She was nothing but an object in their eyes. Her limbs trembled as he twisted toward the main hatch.
“Get your hands off her.” Isaac’s words came from behind her, low and lethal.
Burke yanked her against his chest. “Guess what, sailor?” He spit the last word like an insult. “You don’t get any special privileges on this ship. This pretty little doxy’s no longer yours alone—any of us can have a turn.”
A fist blurred past Josephine’s face and crashed into Burke’s jaw.
The pirate stumbled back with a grunt, releasing her as Isaac surged forward, teeth bared.
Burke retaliated with an elbow into Isaac’s ribs.
But Isaac didn’t falter. He sidestepped the next punch and struck again, his fist splitting Burke’s nose with a crack.
Blood sprayed, and still they kept swinging at each other.
Josephine couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
This wasn’t a fight either man intended to lose.
She scrambled out of the way as the scuffle spilled across the deck. The two men grappled like animals, slamming into barrels and rigging, boots scraping over the planks.
With a roar, Burke drew his cutlass, the steel hissing through the air.
Isaac ducked the first swing and caught Burke’s wrists, wrenching the blade wide.
After a vicious twist, the weapon clattered to the deck between them.
Isaac drove his shoulder into the pirate’s chest, shoving him back into the railing.
While the man fought to keep his balance, Isaac’s hands wrapped around the pirate’s throat and forced him down to the deck.
Veins bulged in Isaac’s forearms as he bore down, muscles straining. Burke thrashed beneath him, gasping, face darkening as Isaac pressed harder. Josephine’s breath caught as the pirate’s eyes began to roll back in his head.
A shadow moved. Another pirate. Sunlight flared off a drawn dagger—aimed straight for Isaac’s back.
“No—!” Josephine lunged forward, diving for the fallen cutlass. Her fingers closed around the worn hilt, swinging the blade up to block him. Not fast enough. Fire lanced through her shoulder as the dagger grazed flesh.
She cried out but didn’t fall back. Didn’t let go. Arms shaking, she held the cutlass high and glared into the man’s eyes. The pirate hesitated, eyes flicking next to her.
Isaac stepped forward, his gaze locked on him. “Back off,” he growled.
The man looked left and right. Narrowed his eyes. He shifted his weight, readying for a strike.
“Enough!” The deep voice cracked like a whip.
Thorne stood outside his cabin, his eyes hard as iron. Every movement on deck stilled as the captain strode forward. The crew fell silent, eyes darting between the pirate and the combatants.
“Damn it, Thorne, control your men. I thought you ran a tight ship.” Isaac snarled the words as Burke groaned and staggered to his feet.
Thorne marched over, his eyes narrowed. “I do.”
His arm snaked out, lightning fast and Burke doubled over, his mouth gaping open in a wordless scream. When the captain yanked his hand back, a dagger gleamed in his hand. Blood dripped from it, splattering to the deck in fat drops.
Josephine’s eyes widened as a red stain spread over the sailor’s shirt.
He raised his hands, clutching his chest as he wheezed.
He staggered back one step. Another. Hit the railing.
Thorne followed him and twisted his hand in the man’s shirt collar.
He leaned in close and muttered something in Burke’s ear before giving him a violent shove.
Josephine twisted away, but a heavy splash rang in her ears. The sea swallowed Burke without ceremony. No one moved. No one spoke.
A gull cried overhead.
Thorne wiped the blade on his trousers and slid it away. “As I said, I don’t tolerate disobedience.”
Josephine’s heart pounded at the chilling calm in his voice. She took a step back, but her knees buckled, sending her to the deck.
“You’re hurt.” Isaac knelt and tore a strip from his shirt. He pressed it to her stinging shoulder and she bit back a gasp.
“I’m fine.” She gritted her teeth. “It’s just a scratch.”
He stilled, eyes locking with hers. “You could have been killed.”
“Why do you even care? I thought I was just a passing fancy.”
His eyes darkened. “It isn’t what you think, Jo—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” She lifted her hand. “Just leave me alone.”