30. Strange Waters #3
Greyson stepped down from the gangplank. She remained rooted to the spot as Fiero prepared to follow. But before she could reach for her sword or prepare harsh words for the hulking man, he was shoved from behind and crashed to the deck with a loud grunt.
Jack dropped off the gangplank, dark fury pouring from his every movement. Fiero attempted to roll to his knees, but the first mate aimed a hard kick into his ribs, sending him sprawling to his stomach, then he lodged a boot between Fiero’s shoulder blades and pinned him to the deck.
“What do you think will happen now,” Jack seethed as Fiero coughed and panted, “after you tried taking revenge on me?”
Cecily paused. Fiero’s enmity was with Jack, and this was their fight, so she folded her arms, determined to step in if Jack would be so generous as to give her a moment to express her own loathing for the man.
Fiero gnashed his teeth and ground out, “You—deserve it—”
Jack’s voice rose to a shout. “Then you should’ve dealt with me, you bastard.” He bent over Fiero, lowering his voice to a growl. “I killed your girl for torturing Cecily, and it was a mercy that I made it quick. But how much worse it’ll be worse for you now that you’ve tried to murder her.”
Then he reached down, grabbed one of Fiero’s wrists, and wrenched. There came a loud pop, and Fiero shrieked.
“Enough, Jack,” Copson said as he crossed the gangplank and stepped onto the Fortuna Royale. “Fiero isn’t yours to kill.”
Jack’s expression twisted in contempt.
Copson noted it with a cool look, called for the ship to get moving, and started for the helm. “Take Fiero to the brig,” he said without looking back.
Two pirates hoisted Fiero off the deck and dragged him away, groaning and wheezing against what Cecily assumed were multiple broken ribs. If that was all he got for now, it was far less than he deserved.
The sailors dispersed to their jobs, but Jack followed his father to the quarterdeck.
“I’m justified in wanting him dead,” Jack said, his low words trembling with violence.
Cecily fell in step behind them, her arms folded tightly over her chest.
“You’re not,” Copson replied. He mounted the quarterdeck and crossed to the wheel.
“He would have killed her!” Jack argued, sweeping his arm toward Cecily. “It’s attempted murder—”
“Then torture him, though it seems you’ve already started. Did you mean to break his ribs? Or was that an impulsive decision with a happy outcome?”
Jack scowled. “You’re mocking me.”
“I’m in as foul a mood as you are, but I’m not letting it blind me.”
He spoke with his characteristic bravado, but Cecily could see the slight cracks in his mask—the tightness around his eyes, the slant of his lips, his white-knuckled grip on the wheel.
Whatever Ann said just now had left him shaken.
Jack’s hands curled into shaking fists. “For once, hear me as my father instead of my captain. Do something to rectify this—if not for her sake, then mine.”
Copson sighed. “I understand, Jack,” he said, softer than Cecily had ever thought possible. “But it’s not right for you to kill Fiero.”
Maybe it was because Jack was blinded by rage that he failed to see that the intensity in Copson’s demeanor wasn’t stubbornness, as it usually was.
There was purpose there, and while Cecily wouldn’t mind throwing Fiero overboard, she had enough wits about her to see that Copson saw some greater picture.
Killing Fiero wouldn’t avenge her because vengeance belonged to…
The blood drained from her face as she realized. She studied the captain’s expression again, his grip on the wheel, and knew what Ann had said to him.
No…not just what she’d said. She’d promised.
Jack shook his head, the fury mounting in his eyes once more. “Father—”
“He’s right,” Cecily cut in.
Jack turned to her, stunned. “What?”
“Listen to him,” she said. “Don’t kill Fiero.”
Over Jack’s shoulder, the captain looked at her with a raised brow.
“He’s coming for us, isn’t he?” she guessed. “Jonah. The change in the wind, the…feeling. He knows.”
She didn’t want to describe how disturbed she felt. It was worse than before, darker. But the captain was surely already aware. Everyone on the Fortuna Royale could probably feel it, but no one would say a thing. Just as she hadn’t.
“Yes,” Copson said mutedly.
“Then we kill Fiero,” Jack said. “If that’s what Jonah wants, we should do it and spare ourselves.”
“It’s not that simple,” Copson replied, his voice harder. “Fiero didn’t touch Cecily, but he must answer for Vanetta. Be as angry as you like about it, but I won’t deny Jonah retribution that is rightfully his.” He frowned, adding in a grumble, “I’d do the same were I Jonah.”
Jack’s lips pressed into a thin line. With a frustrated huff, he stalked off, leaving Cecily alone with the captain.
The wind wrapped between them, carrying the faint reek of death.
“Thank you,” he said, the words hardly more than a breath as he stared resolutely at the rest of his ship.
“Don’t make me regret it,” she said. And rather than assume he’d ever answer such a request, she left.