Page 15 of Hooking Captain Teeth

“Was she on the payroll?” Chub asks with his drink casually lifting to his mouth. He’s testing Maude, but to what end? To see if she would keep us apart? To learn more about Sabs? I wish I could pull him aside and ask where his mind has sailed his questions.

“She knew the business because she tipped out to me each morning,” Maude says with a shrug. Chub taps the table with his marriage finger. I see! Maude curls her fingers into fists. She’s not so indifferent to Sabrina’s antics. “She always paid for her room, unlike a girl on my payroll—I take care of my girls—and tipped the barmen handsomely. Sometimes the moon would rise, and she wouldn’t show up. Then the real trouble would start. Sailors from rival boats would blame one another for scaring her off or hoarding her under their decks. She’s more trouble than she’s worth if you ask me.”

“Yet you never turned her away,” Catalina says with a cold undercurrent that has Chub holding her closer.

“Money is money,” Maude says, returning to her jovial facade. “I took what I could from her while I could. I doubt I’ll see her again.”

“Because she will be married soon,” I say with pride, puffing out my chest.

“Oh no,” Maude says with an ominous shake of her head. “Because those scouts from the mainland came looking for her.”

“Scouts?”

“They hunt for talent to work their shows on the continent, but once a year, they host performances on the islands. They need girls to lift the curtains from their acts and sell tobacco in the crowds. It’s a bonus if the girl can sing or dance—and Sabrina can do both. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s in the island’s show this month. When they leave for the next island and eventually sail to the continent, she will travel with them.”

“Does that worry you? Are the men kind?”

“I worry about all my girls,” Maude says as she squints fake tears to the corners of her eyes. “The girls who go into the shows never return, and I’m overjoyed for them. They get a new start, in a new town, as showgirls instead of whores. They meet husbands and settle down—I just know it.”

“That’s not what will happen to Sabs,” I growl. “We have an understanding.”

“Do you, now? Oh Teeth, half the men whodrink at these tables think they have an understanding with Sabrina. Don’t be a fool,” she scolds.

My insecurities wash over me like a tidal wave. All the years of hiding my uneducated mind behind Chub’s schemes and my pretty face come back to haunt me like ghosts long drowned in my psyche. I can read, but only with me hearty’s lessons in the past year. My missing fingers aren’t why I can’t write more than my signature. I never learned. I spent my youth begging for food and dodging brothels that pedaled young boys. My years on the ratlines alternated between blowing my earnings and pirate raids instead of apprenticing under learned sailors and bettering myself.

If only I had followed Chub’s lead instead of laughing at him. Would I know if Sabrina was pulling one over on me?

You can’t fake having tentacles…but what if I wanted the fortune teller’s prophecy to be true so badly that I fell for the first tentacled lady I met? I mean…how many tentacled ladies does a man meet in a lifetime? Any sane pirate would say zero, but I’m the captain ofPatricia’s Wish,where we seem to attract women who areother. Does that include Sabrina?

“By order of King George the First—stay whereyou are!” Shouts a voice from the doorway.

“You can’t burst in here and tell my patrons what to do!” Maude leaves our table to bump chests with the trio of English soldiers in her doorway. “You can take your war outside! I don’t care who owns this island—Spain or England—in this tavern, it doesn’t change a thing. I’ve owned this business since you were a babe sucking your mother’s tit and will continue operations long after your daughters become my working girls!”

“Leave my daughters out of this,” sneers the soldier closest to her.

“Then leave the building because I think I recognize you. I employ a whore with a nose just like yours—”

The crack of his backhand across Maude’s face echoes throughout the tavern.

Nobody moves.

Silence descends on the tavern as everyone gawks at Maude’s fall to the floor. She rubs her cheek as she stands, pats her hair, and straightens the threadbare shawl around her shoulders. Like a queen, she turns her back on the soldiers and addresses the bar with her chin held high…but tears flow down her face.

“Whoever brings me this soldier’s head gets free drinks for life,” she declares.

The ring of Chub’s machete as he unsheathes itbehind Catalina’s back is the signal of authority I need.

“You heard her, mateys! Who’s thirsty?” My shouts are met with a chorus of cheers from me hearties. I jump to my feet and thrust my longsword in the air with a roar. In seconds, I’m surrounded by bloodthirsty pirates, the chronically arrested, and day-drunk patrons spoiling for a fight. We crash the entrance with the business end of our swords leading the way.

The leather binding Catalina’s wrists flutters to the ground as she unleashes her spinnerets. Ten strands of spider’s thread fly across the bar’s entrance and wrap around Maude’s arms. Chub grabs his spider lady’s hands, and the pair tug Maude out of the fray. He tucks the ladies behind him before joining me on my left flank—the designated place for a quartermaster.

This is why I’d never survive the life of a landlubber. I’d pick fights with these mollies for amusement every day. The trio uses practiced moves from their academies with fancy footwork and designated pauses between each coordinated sequence. They puff to twice their size when six more soldiers and the street police join them. I’d bend over and laugh my arseoff if they wouldn’t stab me in the back.

The soldier who assaulted Maude points a short gun at my face. With a shouted order, the soldiers in front of him duck…but so do the pirates they have engaged in combat. We meet eyes. The barrel waves as the tremors in his hands give away his fear. I stand my ground and glare at him, daring him to shoot me in cold blood. He fires. I hit the deck before the smoke clears. With my belly collecting dust from the dirty floor, I watch his shiny boots exit the tavern and clack down the cobblestone street.

Lilly-livered Molly.

Raising to my feet, I’m instantly engaged in swordplay against two enemies. I slash the largest soldier across the belly when he lifts his sword over his head. His free hand covers the wound as his sword comes down with half the strength required. I bat it away like a mosquito and tsk at him. He doubles over to look at the damage to his waistline as if he believes I’ll pause the battle for him. Does he think he’s in a training yard and I’m a fellow student? I can’t resist. The handle of my sword slams into the back of his head, and he drops like a sack of potatoes.

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