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“Pirates?” she
asked aloud, immediately regretting it as she saw Nora wince. “Do not
be alarmed. I doubt it is such, but if it were, Stokes and the men are
brave and fierce.” Nora nodded
eagerly and jumped as the pounding resumed, this time shuddering the
frame of the door. “Oh, m'lady, it must be pirates, for none of your
father's men would dare intrude.” Rebecca pushed
back the covers and stumbled from the bed, swaying for a moment until
her feet caught the rhythm of the ocean. As Nora had said, the ship
listed more to the right than the left. Now was not the time to worry
about the precious cargo sinking. Her only thoughts were of removing the
pistol from the trunk and making sure it was ready to shoot. As the door
splintered, she stood in front of it, aiming the gun straight ahead. She
heard Nora whimpering on the bed, but had no time to comfort her. The
door burst open with one more solid hit, and four men swarmed into the
room after dropping the beam they had been using to batter the door. “Look at this.
Finer treasure than in the hold.” The man who spoke appeared to be a
few years older than she was, with half his teeth missing and multiple
scars lacerating his naked arms and chest. “The captain
will be pleased,” another said. He was as equally scarred, but wore a
leather vest, unfastened. Three fingers on his right hand were missing. The other two
didn't speak, but their intensely hungry looks were enough to send
shivers down her spine. They paid no attention to the pistol in her
hand, seeming not to realize she had it. Her eyes darted about as they
approached, fastening on her dressing gown. She snatched it from the
rough table, sliding it on quickly. As she did so, Rebecca dropped the
pistol into the voluminous pocket. The first one,
covered in tattoos, reached Rebecca, with another close behind. Two men
had gone to retrieve Nora from the bed, where she huddled in a sobbing
ball. “Do not touch me.” “Or what,
missy?” His voice was rough, as were his calloused hands when they
touched her arm. “We control this ship now, and everything on it.”
He tried to lift her. Rebecca pushed
against him. “I can walk.” The man shrugged,
and his companion chuckled. He waved his hand. “After you, m'lady.” She glared at him,
then at the two men manhandling Nora. “She can walk too.” He shrugged again.
“As you wish.” He turned to them. “Let her walk. If she stumbles,
cut off her hand.” He leered. “She will not need that
for our pleasure.” Nora's sobs
increased, but she pushed herself off the bed and ran to Rebecca,
hugging her. “I am so sorry, m'lady.” “It is not your
fault, Nora.” Rebecca urged her along, and they walked into the
passageway. Following the men's commands, they ended up in the galley.
To her dismay, she saw that most of the crew was already quarantined
there. Among them was Stokes, who glared at her. She had a sinking
feeling that those absent had departed this world already. “I told ye women
would bring bad luck,” Stokes called out, earning a cuffing from the
man nearest him. He subsided into silence, but wore an expression of
mingled anger and fear. “Captain.” The
man with the rough voice prodded Rebecca and Nora toward a man standing
apart from the others. He wore a torn white shirt smeared with red
stains, brown trousers, and black boots. His blonde hair was either
short or worn in a ponytail. He was too
handsome to be the leader of these cutthroats, Rebecca found herself
thinking as she was pushed onto her knees in front of the captain. “We found these
two in the main cabin.” “A highly worthy
prize.” With a gloved hand, he touched Rebecca's oval face, smoothing
his leather-covered fingers over her high cheekbones, straight nose, and
full lips. “You men have earned one-and-a-half your share this day.” Rebecca shivered
as his hand moved to her hair, tangling in the ebony strands. She wanted
to protest the touch, but prudence held her tongue. She had only to wait
for an opportunity. He turned to
examine Nora. “Not bad. You will make a fine prize for the men.” His
icy blue eyes turned back to Rebecca. “You shall be my take of the
booty.” As he reached for her, Rebecca sagged forward, pretending to faint. She slipped her hand into the pocket of the gown, withdrawing the pistol. She kept it pressed against her thigh as he knelt to lift her. When he was level with her, she brought it up, pressing the barrel against his crotch. “I shan't be anything for you. Neither will any woman in future if you push me.” His eyes widened, but he laughed. It was a cold, disturbing sound. “She is feisty.” His laugh cut off when she pressed the sharp barrel deeper into his genitals. His expression hardened. “You cannot escape, m'lady. Even if you shoot me, thirty of my loyal men now control this vessel. You will become property of them all, for the rest of your life.” He lifted a brow. “Knowing this crowd, that should not be more than a day.” He held out his hand. “Give me the pistol.”
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