Page 78 of The Noble's Merman

Presently, Seth was above deck, Allen was taking a nap in his hammock, and Young entered without warning just like always, except this time—he caught Kent without his shirt, in breeches only, in the middle of washing himself. Kent’s nerves jolted as he dropped the soap, taking a step backwards, his back hitting against the wall.

“So terribly sorry,” Young said with a disturbing, foul grin, leaning forward in an obviously exaggerated bow. “I don’t mean to disturb you. Just making sure my prize is being well kept.”

“Your prize?” said Kent, covering his bare chest with his arms. “Your prize shall be the pounds my father bestows upon you, not me myself.”

“But you are what I need for that prize, are you not?” Young’s grin never wavered as he stood up straight. “You promised, that if your father does not pay, I can have my way with you. I have not forgotten. I figure that sentiment stands true as long as you are within my custody. You belong to me unless paid for otherwise.”

Goosebumps prickled all over Kent’s exposed skin—his blood running cold in his veins. “No. You promised to leave me unharmed for the duration of the journey to meet my father. And if—and only if—my father does not pay, will I stay on the ship and… and… be what you want.” It hurt to admit it out loud, but he figured he had to say it to satisfy the pirate, regardless if it would come true or not.

It would not. His father would pay, and then he’d be free.

“Whoever said I would harm you?” Young let out a laugh, and took a step forward. Close, too close, only a foot in front of Kent’s face. “I’m talking of pleasure. If you’ve fucked a merman, that obviously means you like cock. I assure you, mine will please you far better than his ever could.” He put his hand on his belt, jingling the buckle, and Kent’s breath froze. His heart hammered in his throat. He was cornered, terrified; there was no way he could overpower a man so much larger than himself?—

“Enough! Let him alone,” called out Allen from where he was laying in his hammock, hanging off to the side behind Young. He abruptly swung his legs over the side and stood upright, matching the height of the pirate captain. “I will not let you attempt to coerce Fareham into doing something he doesn’t wish to do.”

Young turned away from Kent and faced Allen. “Whether or not he wishes it is not my concern, nor any of the other mates’ concerns,” said the pirate. “A bargain is a bargain.”

“And you promised to keep him unharmed,” growled Allen, pointing a strong finger at Young. Kent was relieved to see that by now, the redhead’s injury to his bicep was nearly completely healed. He had his strength back.

“I know what I’m doing,” Young snapped. “If you’re part of the crew now, you’ll understand my ways. Ah—before you say anything to retort, I see no threat of mutiny when every man here backs what I say.”

“Even Seth?” Allen sneered.

“He knows better than to defy me. I saved him from his old, miserable life. He owes me everything.”

That didn’t seem quite true, but Kent was too frightened to speak up, still huddled back against the wall.

Oh, if only Mo were here…

“Cap’n!” A muffled voice came from behind the door.

“What is it?” Young groaned, taking a step backwards.

“We need your help breakin’ up a fight—Sully’s at it with Taylor again.”

“Can’t you deal with it yourselves?”

“Sully’s been threatenin’ ’im with a knife, Cap’n. Some of the other lads are holdin’ ’em back from each other, but it could get ugly.”

“Fuck, fine.” He glared at Kent. “I’ll be back some other time.”

With that, he turned toward the door, exiting and shutting it behind himself. The grind of the key in the lock screeched.

The tension in Kent’s knees finally gave out, and he collapsed to the floor. He managed to sit upright, but he labored heavy breaths, panting, his heart running wild. “My God, thank you Allen. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Allen knelt down next to him and patted his shoulder, moving Kent’s long brunet hair out of the way. “You’re welcome. I just cannot stand a man as vile as that. He has no right to speak to you that way.”

“Then… how will you manage as a member of his crew? I’m so sorry, I got you into this mess…”

Allen shook his head. “It was I who’d offered to join the crew.”

“Perhaps once we reach England, you can sneak a way out with me? We could form a plan, when the messengers come along to tell my father, we can whisper something….”

“That could be more risky than it’s worth, though.” Allen readjusted his posture, sitting on his rear, pulling his hand away and combing it through his orange locks. “Imagine the struggle. The pirates are armed, mind you. They could catch on to the plot of what is happening, and someone innocent gets hurt.”

Kent sucked in his lips, and, out of needing to occupy his hands, found the soap he’d dropped and grabbed it. Its smooth, soft surface was soothing, even just a little bit. “That could happen. But if you do not escape, you’ll be stuck here with these barbarians.”

“I will figure something out. You don’t know me well enough—you don’t know the sticky situations I’ve gotten out of before.” He gave Kent a reassuring smirk. “Besides, I don’t think of Seth as a barbarian.”

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