Page 10 of Scourge of the Shores
“Shouldn’t have given me name”—her attention returned to the people before her—“if it draws trouble, it’ll answer to me first.”
Lucas shook his head. “I reckoned the name Chadwick would carry weight with any Pirate King, but ye see into men’s souls better than most." He craned his neck, eyes glintin’ with caution. "We’ll keep our wits sharp tonight. Aye?"
The shouted question rang out.
A loud “Aye” responded in unison from the ranks.
The corners of Danna’s mouth turned up. “Take ye watch,” she ordered.
“Aye, Captain,” they responded. She walked forward, and the crowd split to let her through.
Lucas accompanied her as they approached her hut.
“Thank ye for the support, Lucas,” she whispered once they were alone, and the gathered crowd had dispersed.
He placed his hand on her shoulder to turn him toward her. “Ye don’t need to add more cargo to the burdens ye carry.”
Danna shoved his hand off her shoulder. “Ye know nothin’ of burdens,” she gritted, pushing a finger in his face.
Lucas snatched her wrist. Squeezed it until it hurt.
Danna’s fingers curled into her fist to fight the pain, and she hid her grimace with a growl.
“Let go,” she ordered.
He shook his head. “Ye’ll listen to me, Danna Chadwick.” He pulled her wrist to his chest. “I love ye. Always have. Always will. But ye’re twenty-one. If ye keep going like this, ye’ll be dead before ye reach me age, a ripe ‘ole thirty-three. Ye make decisions, and ye live with the consequences, good or bad. No one else here’s willin’ to do that, and because no one else is willin’, they obey ye order.”
“And what if I lead them straight down Cain’s gullet?” She yanked her wrist out of his grip, only for him to snatch it back and lock it against his chest.
“They’d follow ye to Tophet with their heads held high,” he said.
The burn in the back of her eyes raced down her throat. “Then their blood be on me hands.”
Lucas released his grip on her wrist. “Is this ‘bout the three ships, Danna?”
“I told them we’d do best to meet Cain at sea. They died ‘cause of me, and the victory ain’t even ours.” Her bottom lip trembled.
Lucas pulled her in close and wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on the top of her head, and she nuzzled into his chest. She took a deep breath. His briny, smoky scent had never changed. Lucas was seventeen when she was five, and her father died suddenly. He had been playing kickball on the shore when he grabbed his chest, sank to his knees, and fell over without life in his eyes. Danna could still hear her child’s scream in memory. Lucas had run to her, wrapped his arms around her, and kept her from seeing her father’s lifeless body. He had only been a few years younger than Ma and became Danna’s father figure in the year following her father’s passing. Now, as a young woman, she wished to be a child again. She pressed her forehead to Lucas’s chest and balled her hands under her chin.
Lucas whispered, his voice low, "They died defendin’ their home and their kin—same as I’d gladly do fer ye, yer Ma, and me own blood."
He stared out at the restless sea, a grimness set in his jaw.
"Fightin’ on the shore never did much good against that scourge. Yer plan was good—that’s why we took to the sea, huntin’ Cain where he thought himself strongest."
With a gentleness, rare in his callused hands, he lifted her chin, fingers tanglin’ lightly in her long hair.
"Now stop dwellin’ on the dead, lass. We need Captain Chadwick standin’ tall and clear of conscience."
A tear ran down each of her eyes, but he wiped them away and kissed her forehead. “Ye be safe. I’ll be near.”
“I’ll be fine, Lucas. Always am,” she said and pulled away from him. She turned to go inside the hut, and with her head down, she said, “Thank ye. Fer everything.”
Lucas nodded and patted her back before going on his way.
The dark interior blinded her as the door slammed shut from behind. She blinked out the sunspots lingering in her vision and gathered her bearings by swiping her hand to her side to touch the long counter.
Ma sniffled. “What was all the commotion?”
