27. Crossed Copsons
CROSSED COPSONS
Cecily didn’t remember when she’d gone to her little home. She hadn’t intended to, having made up her mind to wait all night for Hein to return or to wreak havoc on the first guard who entered her cell.
For the first time, her little home was not where she wanted to be, as trouble had managed to follow her there from the waking world.
She had never been angry here, but her cup trembled in its saucer enough that she had to set it down.
And no matter how much she twisted her mind and searched the rooms for Jack, she could not make him appear.
Surely dawn was near. Hein had not returned.
She’d been so damn foolish for falling into Morgyn’s trap, and now she would be left here in Tortuga, and Jack’s father would force him to get on the ship and sail away with promises that he could find someone more suitable.
Cecily stood. Her skirts did not swish, as she was wearing the same pants and shirt she’d had on when she was arrested.
Foolish, she thought to herself as she paced. So bloody foolish. If she managed to get out of this, if she made it back to the ship, she would kill Morgyn.
Where is my wife?
Cecily jolted to a stop, her head snapping toward the door.
Tell me where she is.
Jack’s voice echoed through the house, pitched with fury and reaching her from a world away. It was real—not concocted by a strong imagination. A scream split the quiet, but Cecily was already sprinting from the parlor, down the hall, through the foyer, out the door, into the courtyard—
The jail cell was cast in gray from the coming sunrise. Another pained cry came from down the hall, but Jack was here, his ruthless voice like a song of salvation.
“Which door?” he demanded.
“Jack,” Cecily called, but her voice was a bare whisper, worn raw from screaming. The straw slithered against the floor as she pushed herself to her feet.
“Try them all,” came Frederick’s voice, which was drowned out by a shriek. Then he snapped, “Killian, just kill him and be done!”
A key shoved in the lock, turned, and the door swung away. Jack stood on the threshold with a lantern in hand and wrath buried deep in the hard lines of his face.
He was across the cell in two strides, catching her as she threw herself into his arms. She sucked in breath after breath, filling her lungs with the scent of him—the outdoors, sun, ocean, freedom.
Tears ran down her cheeks and seeped into his vest as dark blots. The last time she’d been in a cell, no one had come for her. No one had known. And for as prepared as she’d been to fight her way out, to save herself yet again, this time she had Jack.
He had come for her.
“Lord, Cecily,” he said, holding her tightly. “I have you.”
She clung to him as he pulled her from the cell and toward the front of the jail.
“It’s nearly dawn,” said Frederick. He stood in the middle of a room filled with dust and smoke from where the front door had been blown off.
The coppery tang of blood hung in the air, and Killian lingered off to the side, absently cleaning a knife.
Frederick extended his hand to drop four throwing knives, mostly clean but still flecked with blood, into Jack’s palm.
Then he held out a bag that Cecily recognized as her own. Where they’d found it, she didn’t know.
Jack slung it over his shoulder. “He won’t leave without me,” he said in a voice colder than she’d ever heard. His eyes cut to her coat hanging on a hook. He snatched it off the wall and shoved it into the bag with the rest of her stolen possessions.
Frederick looked at Cecily, his eyes sad. “I’ll see you again.”
“Tell them I said goodbye,” she whispered to him, thinking of Fay and Maria.
She touched the pendant at her throat—Fay had already known that was the last time they’d see each other for now.
Whether she’d foreseen this ordeal, Cecily couldn’t be sure.
But it soothed her to know that she had friends who were aware of her, who would look for her, and still others who would tear apart a building and its guards to free her.
They had saved her. They had saved her. And not one of them would say she was unworthy of it.
Tears poured down her cheeks.
“To hell with Tortuga,” Jack spat, and with his arm still tight around her, they stepped out of the gaping, smoking hole that was once the jail’s entrance.
The early morning air was cool and heavy with moisture, carrying the scent of tropical flowers. Jack didn’t let her go, keeping her tucked securely against his side as they made for the docks.
“Hector.” She cleared her throat, hoping her voice might come stronger than it did.
“He found me barely an hour ago and told me everything.” Jack’s tone had thawed, but not by much.
He looked down at her, stopped, and crushed her to him with a low curse.
“Hester came to the ship yesterday afternoon, frantic that she couldn’t find you.
” He pulled back, his expression pained.
“We searched everywhere, all night. Of all the places on this island, I didn’t imagine you’d be there. ”
Alone in a jail cell, her greatest nightmare.
“Morgyn did this,” she whispered, and he winced at the strain in her voice.
Now that she was not on the offensive, now that she was safe, there was enough room for thick vines of horror to twist through her, their thorns scraping against her heart and lungs to leave her bleeding.
“She knew what would happen when they caught me.” A sob escaped her.
“She knew what she was doing, and I think I’d rather she have just stabbed me. Not put me there. Anything but there.”
He took her face in his hands, sweeping away her tears with his thumbs.
“But you came for me,” she said. “No one…before… They didn’t…” She shook her head, unable to get the words out.
Jack understood anyway. “I will always come for you. I never would have left without you. And Morgyn…” Anger rekindled in his eyes. His voice shook as he said, “I’ll slaughter her.”
She stretched up on her toes to kiss him. Her trembling had calmed, then it subsided altogether when their lips met. Realizing this, Jack gathered her to him, letting his strength bleed into her.
By his side, she would never be a prisoner again. And if one day they would be doomed to such a fate as capture, torture, or death, at least they would face it together.
When they broke apart, her composure had returned, and she was about to tell him she was ready to return to the ship when something flickered out of the corner of her eye.
“They’re burning down the jailhouse,” she said.
Jack spared a glance up the street. Sure enough, the jail was on fire, and Frederick and Killian were nowhere to be seen.
“I’d mentioned something of the sort on our way here,” Jack muttered, “but I thought they’d understand I didn’t mean it literally.”
Flames licked up the side of the building, as bright as the sunrise.
“It’s pretty,” she rasped, and she wondered if Copson would be at all satisfied to know he’d been right, and she had indeed managed to burned down a bit of Tortuga by some hand other than her own.
It was fully dawn by the time they reached the Fortuna Royale. Copson stood at the helm, his gaze following his son as he boarded with Cecily behind him. The second Jack’s boot hit the deck, the captain called orders to hoist the anchor, unfurl the sails, and pull the gangplank.
Hester rushed to Cecily and tugged her into a tight embrace. Without a word or greeting, Cecily clung to her the same as she had to Jack because here, too, was a sense of home.
She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the comfort of being held by her sister.
But however comfortable she may have been, it was dampened when she opened her eyes.
Across the deck was Morgyn, her face pinched with a sour look. Next to her, Fiero’s gaze traveled down the length of Cecily’s body, his expression smug as he took in her disheveled appearance.
If Cecily had any weapons on her, she might have broken away and put an end to Morgyn once and for all.
But she was exhausted and couldn’t yet bring herself to leave Hester’s soft hug.
A few more moments, she thought, would be enough to invigorate her.
Then she would see this through and avenge herself for all Morgyn had put her through, but she was so damn tired…
And then Jack stepped between them, facing Morgyn.
All around them, sailors worked to get the ship moving. As they began to drift from the harbor toward deeper waters, Jack called to his father, “Captain, permission to uphold the articles and deliver judgment on your company?”
From the helm, Copson replied, “Proceed as you see fit.”
Fiero’s smugness fell into apprehension. “No harm, Jack,” he said, placing a meaty hand on Morgyn’s waist. “If this is about last night, we didn’t know you’d be there.”
Jack glanced back at Cecily. She recognized the severity in his gaze and remembered when he’d worn it in spite of her.
This time, it was for her.
For a moment, she was compelled to tell him that she could take care of it, that it was her fight, but Hester pulled her closer.
“Let him,” she whispered. “You’ll break the articles if you do anything.”
The compulsion cooled. She couldn’t carry out her own revenge, but here on the ship, the first mate had full right to carry it out for her. Judging by his menacing gaze, he had every intention of doing so.
When Jack leveled that glare on Fiero, the larger pirate seemed to shrink.
“This has nothing to do with last night,” Jack said, his tone laced with menace. “The captain’s order was ignored. You were commanded to keep her out of trouble.” His gaze slid to Morgyn. “And you were told to settle your issues in Tortuga. They were not to return to this ship.”
Morgyn paused, her gaze flicking between Jack and Cecily. The last time she had properly seen them together was the day Cecily had pulled the knife on her. Morgyn wouldn’t have known Jack was Officer Marín, so she must have assumed some hatred remained between the two.
“I tried to leave my issue in Tortuga,” Morgyn said, uncommonly subdued. “But it appears she got loose.”
“Oh, yes,” Jack said lightly, like rescuing young women from jails was something he would do for anyone. “I freed her myself. When she didn’t return to the ship yesterday, I thought it’d be a shame to lose such a valuable crew member. She’s saved lives, you know. More than you ever have.”
Morgyn frowned, another long moment passing as she reassessed.
Then she nodded at Cecily and said, “I saw her cavorting with Spanish officers. There’s no telling where her allegiances lie or what she’s told them about this company.
It’d be a poor choice to have a Spanish sympathizer on board.
If we’re attacked, who’s to say she won’t join them and kill the rest of us? ”
It was Hester alone who kept Cecily from charging forward at the accusation, going so far as to press her finger to Cecily’s lips to keep her from snarling a response.
“Who’s to say anyone wouldn’t?” Jack replied evenly.
“We go where the best pay is. But that’s not the point, is it?
” His head tilted, the same snake-like movement he’d done as Officer Marín.
“While the articles may not extend to what you do beyond this ship, I’ve seen how you’ve treated your fellow crew.
You are divisive, threatening, and cruel, and your presence will affect the company at large. ”
“Against Cecily?” Morgyn tried to laugh. “It’s only between us. It’s no one else’s concern.”
“Well, I’m afraid you’ve gotten me involved.
” He stalked forward, the silken viciousness in his voice reminiscent of the many taunts he’d traded with Cecily from their first days of knowing one another.
This was the lethal first mate who kept order at any cost. “Cecily has been under my charge for weeks, so I know she’s done nothing to seek or antagonize you.
Rather, you have sought her, and she has protected herself.
It hasn’t escaped my notice—nothing does, and no matter what you say, I am duty-bound to do what’s best for my crew. ”
“Be reasonable,” Fiero said.
“My job is reason. And justice.”
“You’re not going to…to kill me,” Morgyn said. She pressed herself against the rail as Jack neared.
Stopping a few paces away, Jack swept a hand toward the starboard where Greyson had just finished affixing a plank to the edge. “I’ll offer you this: Leave the ship, and you can keep your life.”
Morgyn’s eyes widened. “You expect me to jump?”
“We’re still relatively close to land. I’d consider that quite merciful.”
They had left harbor, but were still near enough for one to return if they were a strong swimmer.
“Jack,” Fiero said pleadingly. “Reconsider.”
Jack drew his gun and leveled it at Morgyn. A few gasps shuddered through the crew, many of them from new faces who had signed on in Tortuga.
At the helm, Copson watched, emotionless.
“I won’t reconsider,” Jack said, edging Morgyn closer to the plank as she tried to sidle out of the path of his bullet. He matched her step for step. “Not for a matter that puts my crew at risk. There has been enough warning of the consequences of discord, and we do not offer so many chances.”
“If you think Cecily won’t do it,” she said, her voice trembling, “if you think she won’t turn on you—” She stepped onto the plank, encouraged by the gun aimed at her. “She’s a snake.”
“And a damn fine one she is,” Jack snarled, his voice ringing over the deck as his composure fractured.
“She’s a benefit to this crew, yet you only provoke her.
Do you think I don’t see it? That I haven’t seen everything?
Cecily earns her keep and doesn’t complain, while you—what have you done?
You’ve goaded her into showing her fangs. ”
Morgyn stopped at the far end of the plank, her arms out to keep her balance as the wood bounced and swayed in the wind. Jack remained at the edge of the ship, his arm extended.
“You stole from her,” Jack said, his face twisting with rage, his words sharp with it. “You taunted and tested her. You framed her. You tortured her.”
“Fiero,” Morgyn cried, but the man didn’t move—not while the first mate was delivering judgment that could easily be turned on him.
“I’m well aware of what Cecily is capable of,” Jack declared.
“And to that end, your gravest offense of all is that you put the woman I love into a cell and made her relive every horror she’s endured.
Your petty revenge was abject disloyalty against this crew and my family after we saved you, fed you, protected and paid you—and for what you’ve done, you have not returned the cost.” The gun cocked. “You miscalculated, Morgyn.”
He pulled the trigger.