Page 69 of Scourge of the Shores
Danna refused to lie to him, but her gaze fell. “Why are ye here?”
“‘Cause I told that boy to leave ye alone or I’d shoot him. If he’s here, I know it’s gone too far, and I’ll make good on me word.” He drew his flintlock from his belt. “Jaymes,” he yelled and searched the branches.
Robert jumped down from the hiding spot to stand beside Danna. “I’m not a boy, Ervin.”
Robert came alone and weaponless, standing before Lucas in nothing but a loose linen shirt and leather pants.
Lucas’s eyes narrowed as he lifted his flintlock. “Are ye stayin’?”
Danna stepped in front of Robert. “Lucas, stop. Put yer pistol away. I’ll hate ye forever if ye kill him.”
Lucas’s gaze slid to her. “Ye’ll only hate me for a while ’til ye realize I did ye a favor.”
“No, Lucas. I chose this. I chose him. For what time I got. I know he ain’t stayin’. I know I can’t leave Ma.” Her breath hitched as the realization of her words sank deep into the pit of her belly. “The island.” She swallowed the rest of her words.
“Ye’ll ache, Danna,” Lucas said with a hard gaze and a clogged voice. “And it won’t be the kind that ye can fight away. It’ll sit in yer chest and rot slow, remindin’ ye of a future that’ll never be.” He glanced at Robert with a shake of his head. “It will be the worst pain ye’ve ever felt. It’ll gut ye slow ’til ye ain’t nothing left but a shell.” Lucas flicked his gun. “I tried to warn ye. I tried to scare him off. He’s got the world. Ye got us and the prophecy, and there ain’t no one here for ye, Danna.”
Danna shifted her weight. “A prophecy ain’t never guaranteed, Lucas.” She held back tears the best she could.
Lucas’s face contorted, and his arm twitched. “Ye gonna ache ’til ye drive yerself mad then, ‘cause he ain’t comin’ back and if the prophecy ain’t real, ye’re gonna be alone. And it mighta been bearable before ye gave yerself to him.”
The ache had already teased her heart with what was to come. She had refused Robert, thinking it would make leaving easier. But now she saw the truth—denial had only made her fall harder and the inevitable hurt deeper. If she hadn’t fought it, maybe she could have at least enjoyed the time she had left with him. Her bottom lip quivered at the coming pain.
“Leave her alone, Jaymes,” Lucas pleaded. “If ye ain’t stayin’, then leave her alone.” His voice twisted. “Ye won’t be here to see her hurt. Ye won’t be here to make sure she hides the pain. Ye won’t be here to comfort her. All ye care ‘bout’s treasure and glory. She ain’t nothing to ye. Quit feedin’ her yer false promises. Ye’ll forget her as soon as yer ship sets to sea.”
Robert placed a hand on Danna’s shoulder and moved her aside. “That’s a lie, Captain Ervin, and ye know it. If all I cared about was treasure and fame, I’d never risked me life, bargained me ship and me crew?—”
Lucas cut him off. “Ye’re a pirate king. That’s all I need to know. Ye knew ye had to gain her trust to get us to work with ye to get off this island. Ye knew it, admit it. And ye also knew that if she died, the island would be chaos and ye ain’t getting help.”
“I would’ve let Rosa kill you all that night,” Robert said with hands balled into fists.
“If ye loved her, ye’d let her go. Protect her from hurtin’,” Lucas said through clenched teeth. “I thought ye maybe did, so I gave ye the chance to leave, but I see I made a mistake.” The clack of the pistol cock rippled through the clearing.
“She’s a woman; let her make her own decisions,” Robert said. “She don’t need you anymore, though you still need her.”
“She don’t need ye either, mate,” Lucas said, his finger moving to the trigger.
Danna stepped in front of Robert once more. “I don’t need either of ye,” she said, slicing her arms across her body. “But I want both of ye.” She tilted her head at Lucas, knowing he came from a place of good intentions. “Lucas, please. I feel . . . broken already, knowin’ I only got a few weeks left with Robert. Even if what ye said’s true, that he’ll forget me as soon as he sets sail, I’d rather have the lie he tells than the truth ye hold.”
Lucas lowered his weapon as if it weighed as much as his own heart; the metal gleamed silver in the moonlight. “I thought I taught ye better than that, Danna.” He shook his head and removed the charge from the weapon.
“I thought I taught ye better,” he repeated, quieter this time. He looked at her—not as his Captain, but as the girl he’d raised and sworn to protect. “When yer heart turns to rot, and yer dreams to salt, don’t come lookin’ for me to piece it back together fer ye. I ain’t got that skill. And when ye wake one day and realize ye traded this island for a memory, I pray ye can live with the choice. Don’t let yer duty falter, and don’t forget ye’re a Chadwick.”
The urge to vomit swirled in her belly at the disappointment dripping from his words. She shoved her hands on her hips. “Ye doubt me ability to lead, Lucas?” Her voice wasn’t commanding; it was straining against tears running down her throat.
He slammed his flintlock back on his belt.
“No,” he said with a glisten in his eyes. His lips pressed thin. “But I ain’t got to see ye burdened even more than ye are. This struggle’ll be yers and yers alone.” His voice was soft, almost regretful.
Danna dipped her chin in agreement. “Fine.” Her voice cracked.
“Then forgive me fer not protectin’ ye properly from this.”
He gave her one last look—a look full of warnings, wishes, and woe—before disappearing into the shade of the moonlit trees without another word.
Danna almost called for him. She watched him go before her chin hit her chest. She’d lost Lucas and was about to lose Robert. The breeze wrapped around her, making her shiver.
Robert slid his hand around Danna’s belly and kissed her nape before turning her into him.
