6. The Watcher and the Watched #3
Morgyn merely held her bowl aloft. Cecily ladled a serving into it, letting it splatter as she did. Once Morgyn and Fiero left for the main deck, Cecily set the ladle aside and flexed her hands to get them to stop trembling.
Monster, her memories whispered. Murderer.
She only needed to make it a little longer—keep to herself, take her money, leave this ship, and get to a place where no one would ever have to know what she did. A place where she could become someone like the girl she was before.
It was so close, so close she could feel her ultimate freedom like a tangible thing she might hold in a matter of days.
She kept serving, even as her back began to hurt. She wasn’t used to standing for so long, but she didn’t complain to the old cook, nor did she pause to lean or stretch.
Soon, she told herself. Soon everything will be better. A little longer, a few more weeks, a few more days, a little more pain, just a little longer—
“You’re done when Stede says so.”
Jack stood on the opposite side of the table, the last one to get his supper. His face was set into indifference, and while she expected an insult or some scathing comment about being blissfully free of her for most of the day, none came.
The stew in her pot had dwindled, and her ladle scraped the bottom. After dumping most of the remains into Jack’s bowl, he strode away.
Almost immediately, Stede appeared beside her with a clean bowl. “Go,” he said, pressing it into her hand. “Eat.”
If her body didn’t ache so badly, she might have insisted on staying to help him clean. But he was a lot spryer than she was at the moment, and a lot more determined, so Cecily poured what was left in the pot into her bowl, filling it only halfway.
Stede’s lips twisted, and he took her elbow to gently tug her toward his pot. “Take more, girl. You’re starving, and I’ve got plenty more over here.”
As much as she would have liked to acquiesce, she shook her head and told him quietly, “I’ll puke if I eat any more than this.”
He sighed and looked her over. “Eat more when you can. There’s enough for you.”
This small man had somehow managed to touch a long-dead corner of her heart in a matter of hours. In another time, she might have hugged him, but she only gripped her bowl and thanked him.
When she turned, she caught the flicker of Jack’s coat disappearing from view as he mounted the steps.
Her cheeks flamed. No doubt he’d heard Stede imploring her to eat, and it would be one more thing he might needle her about. Another insult he could use against her.
She dragged her feet to the steps and climbed up to the crew’s quarters and then to the main deck above that. Everyone was gathered under the stars, lanterns casting the deck in a golden glow.
“Cecily!”
She quickly found Hester sitting on a rail across the deck next to Greyson, swinging her arm wildly above her head.
“Come sit!” Hester called, and Cecily picked her way over to her.
“The stew is good,” Greyson said. He slung his arm over his wife’s shoulders, and she giggled. “Better than usual. Maybe you should help Stede every day instead of doing Jack’s dirty work.”
On Greyson’s far side, Jack ate in silence. He was one of few pirates who hadn’t sought a girl, though surely he’d noticed their flirtatious glances and heated gazes. Perhaps he was too busy or too serious, or maybe he had a girl waiting for him somewhere—
As though he could feel her watching, he glanced up and caught her staring. She quickly dropped her gaze to her bowl like her stew was the most interesting thing in the world and didn’t look his way again.
When the pirates turned in for the night, Cecily curled up in her corner, hidden in shadow as she waited for the lanterns to dim so she could escape the crew’s quarters.
Between Morgyn’s attention earlier and the many happily married couples, she had already decided she wouldn’t even try to sleep there tonight.
As soon as the last light extinguished, she snuck toward the main deck—and came up short when she found Jack sitting on the steps, his gun in hand.
He aimed it at her. “Not tonight.”
She eyed the barrel. “I can’t sleep here.”
“Then you won’t sleep.” He waved her back toward the crew’s quarters with the weapon. “Go.”
Beyond him was freedom and peace away from the others, but he didn’t move. “Why?”
“I don’t owe you a reason.” He waved the gun again. “Do it because I tell you to.”
She huffed and nearly spat a retort, but remembered what Stede had told her earlier that day—that Jack was the reason there was order on this ship. If she chose to fight him over this, he’d win.
“Fine, Copson,” she said, spitting his name like a curse.
“Thank you, Cecily,” he said in the same tone.
Cecily returned to her corner but didn’t sleep.
She watched the steps, even as the other pirates picked up their nightly activities that made her cheeks burn and her stomach clench.
The minutes ticked by, and the noises quieted and snores began.
When an hour had passed, Jack finally rose and returned to his cabin.
The moment his door shut, Cecily scampered up to the deck and fell asleep behind the foremast.