Chapter Eighteen
Samantha kept her hand steady on the wheel. The only steady thing in the chaos around her. The ship hummed beneath her, pushed to her limit with sails taking more wind than they ever were meant for. Her heart raced, each rapid pump a painful reminder she was alive. For now.
Don’t look back.
She didn’t have to.
The Reckoning was close enough now for her to hear the muffled shouts of Thorne’s men.
Shouts filled with bloodlust.
She forced herself to take a breath. Ahead, a smudge of green marred the horizon. The Bahamas. So close.
And impossibly far away. She needed hours. They had minutes.
“We need to talk, Captain.”
Christian approached, sweat dripping down his brow. He’d been down below the last hour, helping ready the cannons. As much as she hated to admit it, he’d been invaluable. After Thorne’s sails were spotted, the lieutenant had burst into action organizing her men. Preparing them for battle.
Now, his mouth settled into grim lines. Griff stood behind him with a similar expression.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
A sharp pain stabbed through her chest. “What other choice do we have?”
He met her eyes. “Surrender.”
Her fingers tightened on the spokes. “I think my crew agrees we’d rather go down fighting. Either way, we all die.”
Christian looked between her and Griff. “I have reason to believe he might spare us.”
She jerked her head back. “Spare us? Last I checked, mercy wasn’t part of Thorne’s vocabulary.”
He glanced behind her, where the shouts had grown louder. “We are close enough to the islands that if he does sink us, some may survive.”
“And what if he takes us prisoner again? I’d rather die than step one foot back on his ship.”
“He will probably make haste to Savannah to confront your uncle directly. I doubt he’d try the same tactic twice.”
Griff stepped forward. “Under most circumstances, I would agree to fight to the death. But if there’s a chance . . .”
Samantha clenched her jaw. Her gaze swept over the deck, where men hastened with last-minute preparations. Tommy stood beneath the mainmast, coiling a length of sheeting, his face pale in the sun.
Her vision blurred.
Most of these men had families onshore. Wives. Children. So many lives would be thrown into upheaval. The pain in her chest bloomed fiercer. A chance. She would take even a thread of hope.
With a tight throat, she turned to Christian and Griff. “What do we do?”
Christian pulled up his nose. At least this was hard for him too. “We stand down.”
He jumped down to the main deck and began shouting orders. Guns were rolled back and hatches closed, and the entire crew gathered in the open. Nervous energy thrummed through both ship and man.
“Go join them.” Griff stepped next to her. “They can’t see you now, but if Thorne gets his eyes on you at the helm, it will be worse for you.”
She handed the wheel over. “I’m sorry, Griff. You were right.”
“We got much farther than I thought we would.” He gave her a half smile. “Now go.”
She descended to the deck and came to a stop next to Tommy. His eyes darted to hers and she couldn’t help putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you think the lieutenant was right?”
With a gentle squeeze, she let herself face the approaching ship.
No wonder Tommy’s voice quivered. As the Reckoning approached, a dozen cannons gleamed from open hatches, and the crew of giants lined the decks, armed with long scimitars.
Several huge black flags whipped in the wind from each mast. The vivid white skull and crossbones insignias sent a ripple of coldness through her.
Flying those flags was an invitation to the gallows for most pirates.
Not Thorne.
“We can only hope.” Her mouth had gone dry, however.
After a shouted order from their captain, the brutes reefed the sails and the towering frigate floated alongside the Raven.
Staring down the barrel of a cannon, Samantha tried and failed to swallow. Numbness crept over her, winding through her limbs and heart until the world around her slipped away. Leaving her and the thud of her pulse.
Would her life flash before her eyes? Should it? She closed them. What was worth remembering? Her parents. She tried to picture their faces. Nothing. Sailing. Wind in hair and one with the ship. Still nothing.
She scowled. Surely there was something she could think of. Something that had given her pleasure.
And then a vision did come: Herself. Tucked against Christian’s chest, his fingers cupping her jaw with quiet possessiveness.
Her eyes snapped open and she glared at Christian’s back. He had placed himself between her crew and Thorne’s men. How gallant. She growled. How dare he occupy her last thoughts?
She made to close her eyes and try again when Thorne’s voice boomed between the ships.
“And here my men were itching for a fight.”
“Leave us be, Thorne.” Christian took a step toward the railing.
The pirate laughed. He stood at the forecastle, his jacket tails flapping against his thighs.
“After you’ve stolen something of mine? You must be out of your mind, boy. Give it back, and I shall give you all quick deaths.”
Samantha’s fingers dug into her palms. She shouldn’t have given the map to Christian.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She blinked. The honest lieutenant, lying?
Thorne’s gaze roamed the crew and settled on her. His eyes narrowed and after a long moment of silence, he grinned.
“Search the ship.”
His crew began swinging over with ropes and tethered the ships together. A gangplank thunked across the railings and Thorne walked over, his eyes never leaving her.
When he stopped in front of her, he pulled a dagger from his belt. Running his finger over the blade, he leaned close. “There’s a special punishment I reserve for those who steal from me.”
“Leave her alone, Thorne.” Christian’s voice rang with warning.
“You’re in no place to give me orders.” Thorne ran the tip of the dagger along her jawline. Saliva pooled in her mouth and she fought to stay still as his gaze traveled over her attire. “You look better in a dress, Miss Warstein.”
Thumps and crashes came from below deck. Her gaze flitted to the lump in Christian’s pocket. Would he give it up?
Thorne moved his blade down until it rested above her heart. Right where she’d placed hers the night before. He pressed until a sharp pain pierced her skin.
“Should have killed me when you had the chance.” Flipping the dagger, he sheathed it and laughed. “You make a lousy pirate.”
He pivoted and began a slow stroll around the deck. He ran his hand along the railing, over sheeting and pulleys. Samantha’s hands clenched as he touched her ship so intimately.
One by one, his men reported their news to him. No map.
Her crew stood in tense silence as the minutes dragged by. Christian stood rigid with his hands clasped behind his back and Thorne approached him.
“I know what you’re trying to do, but let me tell you something. My patience is wearing thin. You’re only delaying the inevitable.”
Christian didn’t budge.
“So be it.” Thorne turned to his men. “Take their weapons and tie them up. Everyone but her.”
The giants lashed her crewmates’ hands and feet together. Griff and Christian were dragged over to the group and bound as well. Samantha gave a little cry when one of the men yanked her away from the group and toward Thorne.
She dug her heels into the deck and received a harsh shake.
“Thorne.” Christian’s voice followed them. “Leave her and take me. I can be ransomed. I think you know how much the governor would pay.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Ever the hero. Even after all the animosity between them, he hadn’t hesitated to offer himself in her place.
The captain ignored him and nodded to the brute gripping her arm. With a kick behind her leg, he shoved her to the deck. Pain lanced up from her knees and she sucked in a sharp breath.
“This is your last chance. Give me the map.”
She locked eyes with Christian. His lips pressed together in a tight line and his bound hands reached around his side, grasping at his pocket. She gave a little shake of her head and swiveled to face Thorne.
“What a familiar scene. Where have I seen this before?” He ran his fingers through his beard and flashed her a malicious smile. “Oh yes, your mother died like this. Kneeling before me under the same circumstances. The bitch refused to tell me where the map was as well.”
Samantha let out a snarl and lunged forward but the man next to her yanked her back in place.
Thorne laughed and waved another brute over. The man removed something from a leather pouch and handed it to the captain. A tremor ran through her.
A cat-o-nines. The woven leather strands dangled in the breeze, each with a little hook glistening in the sun. They clinked together, the odd jingle ringing in her ears. A gruesome wind chime.
Her vision swam and she splayed her hands against the warm deck. She’d never been allowed to watch a flogging. But she’d tended the bloodied backs of men afterward.
Stay strong.
If she faltered, Christian would give up the map. And there would be nothing left to keep Thorne from executing them all. Now, she understood why he hadn’t given it up right away.
The pirate wouldn’t kill them until he got his hands on the map.
“Thorne, don’t do this.” Christian struggled against his bonds. “Thorne!”
She couldn’t watch him. The rest of her crew stared on with horror, so she dropped her eyes to the deck. To her trembling fingertips.
Only one thing ran through her mind. Over and over again.
Don’t scream.
The crack of the whip shattered the silence and the hooks whistled past her face to bite into the deck not an inch from her hand.
She screamed.
The next blow would come to her back.
Thorne jerked the whip and the hooks yanked free of the wood, clattering against the planks as he coiled the leather around one hand.
Her nails curled into the deck as her heart thrashed in her chest. She couldn’t do this. Spots covered her vision and a sob broke free.