VIOLENT DO NOT ENGAGE #3
“Are you blowing us up?” Her question was mild and hardly curious, useless for how obvious it seemed.
Of course they were blowing up the ship, because this was Copson’s crew, and even if the captain had done one thing out of the ordinary by saving so many women, at least everything else seemed within character.
“Only the ship,” the man answered evenly, his tone so polite that she might have assumed he was speaking to someone else. “I didn’t intend to blow you up as well.”
She almost smiled, like the thought of living was preposterous and very nearly funny, but the expression never made it to her face.
The pretty sky and bloody carnage had distracted her from the decision she had yet to make—whether she wanted to live or die.
“All hands!” Copson called from the Fortuna Royale. As pirates and freed prisoners hurried for the other ship, he addressed the young man. “Time to go, Jack.”
Cecily peered up at the brilliant clouds, as though they might be hiding an answer in their fading purple edges. It would be so easy to leave all this behind if she were assured of meeting her father in death and permanent peace.
Peace, which she’d fought so hard for to the point of becoming a monster. She would have kept fighting, damning herself to whatever extent she thought might be permissible so long as she didn’t surrender all of her soul and ruin her chances to see her father.
Jack fished a match from his pocket and jerked his head toward the pirate ship. “After you,” he said to Cecily.
The match struck and hit the deck. As the fuse began to sputter, she said, “I haven’t decided.”
Half turned toward the gangplank, Jack paused, eyes narrowed. “Whether you want to die?”
“Yes.” Her shiv was still in her palm, all but forgotten as she idly ran the edge of her thumb over it. “I deserve to die. But I’m not sure if I want to.”
The only thing she knew she wanted was the peace she’d chased these past months. But…
But. She also wanted her entire soul back, and to live as the kind of girl who deserved that peace and didn’t have to fight so hard for it.
“Jack!” Copson called. “Hurry along.”
The pikes drew back into the Fortuna Royale, the sails unfurled, and Jack glanced between his captain and Cecily. “Decide on the Fortuna,” he said, and held out his hand. His long, graceful fingers were flecked with dried bits of blood. Not his, by the look of things.
Life will be good, Hester had said. If Cecily chose life, she might find a future she was both worthy of and happy to have. One that didn’t make her loss feel so profound. If such a thing were possible…
Well, she would have to live to know for sure.
The spark skittered along the fuse, and the Fortuna Royale began to move.
“Move it, Jack!” Copson shouted.
Jack glared at her, his hair tossing in the wind. “You can’t be serious.”
After so long of being told what she deserved and given no place to say what she wanted, Cecily decided then that she wanted to not only live, but live well, if only she had an opportunity.
And with one look at Jack’s exquisite, blood-flecked hands, she knew death would always be an option if piracy turned out to be too much of a hassle.
She rocked forward, preparing to take the first step into her new life when Jack lost his patience. He crossed the distance between them, clamped long fingers around her wrist, and hauled her to the gangplank.
Her rage sparked faster than the fuse had.
She knew that touch all too well, and she would not be forced anywhere—not again. Never again.
Cecily yanked out of his grip, growling, “Don’t touch me,” only to have his arms wrap around her waist and lift her. The gangplank began to shift, but Jack stepped onto it with the assuredness of solid ground.
With a loud cry, she moved without thinking. With one hand, she dug her nails into his arm to pry him off. In the other, she slipped the bone shiv from her palm to her fingers and sliced for his face.
The blade found purchase. Jack spat a curse, releasing her to clap a hand over his cheek. She shoved away, twisting as she tipped off plank and plummeted toward the water. With only a moment to twist in mid-air, she aligned her body against the approaching surface and dove cleanly into the waves.
Salt water rushed into her mouth as she gasped at the icy chill. It soaked through her disgusting dress and into her bones, pulling away months’ worth of dirt and grime.
A fitting, if not unexpected, way to begin her life, she supposed, as the water pulled away the dirt, the stains, the smell, the bits of prison she was most eager to be rid of. She embraced it, frigid it may be, because for the first time in a long while, she felt alive.
She kicked upward, coughing as she broke the surface. Above, the gangplank between the two ships was empty. Jack must have stumbled back to his own crew and left her here.
No sooner had she thought it than Jack surfaced mere feet away with a burst of breath. He touched the gash in his cheek, and when his fingers came away streaked with blood, he leveled her with a murderous glare.
He growled, “You—”
“Leave her, Jack!” came Copson’s angry shout from above. A ladder was thrown over the side of the Fortuna Royale.
“Best of luck,” Jack sniped at her, then began swimming toward the pirate ship with long, powerful strokes. He reached the ladder and pulled himself out of the water, climbing quickly up the side.
Slipping her shiv between her front teeth, Cecily followed, neither as strong or as fast as Jack, but the ladder neared, slowly but surely.
Behind her, something exploded on the prison ship. She flinched, ducking against the sound. In that moment of involuntary hesitation, she saw the tiny boat bobbing a short way away with a single man in it, his face red with tears.
A lone survivor to tell the story.
Her stomach turned. Whatever Copson had in store for her would surely not be so horrible as being left in a small boat in the middle of the ocean.
She swam faster. The Fortuna Royale was still well within reach, but it wouldn’t be for long.
Another explosion, louder this time, and she ducked as bits of ship went flying, sending debris raining into the sea. The Fortuna Royale picked up speed, making her swim against its wake, her heart pounding in her throat as she calculated the distance to the ladder.
She pushed herself faster, harder, forcing her weak body beyond what she knew it could do, because this was her choice. Now that she was allowed to make one, she wouldn’t miss it.
With a desperate kick, she surged forward and grabbed the ladder.