Page 32 of Kidnapped by the Pirate
Most.
John’s head had nearly been taken clean off, his rosy-cheeked, dear face gone before Hawk could even understand what had happened—that John had propelled him out of harm’s way.
His blood had still stained Hawk’s face—his hands, his lips, his very heart—when they’d put John into the sea along with a dozen other men, each wrapped in cloth. The quartermaster had spoken John’s name aloud before the splash, as if he were an offering to the sea gods. Perhaps he was.
Hawk had stood solemn with the others along the rail, the flag fluttering at half-mast. He’d watched the canvas entombing John bob for a few moments before sinking beneath the waves and forever into the deep.
When the last body was out of sight, the men had turned back to their tasks, bustling about and getting on with it, readying the ship and themselves to do it all again when called upon. Hawk had no path but to follow, unless he wanted to dive after John.
He’d been sorely tempted.
In the months following, Hawk had found the pain crippling and of absolutely no benefit to him. Nights had been the hardest, alone in his hammock without the sweet nuzzle of John’s kisses, and he’d told himself, never again. Over the years, he’d fucked some men. But his lips never touched theirs, his hands never lingered over bared skin. He never held them close and slept as one.
It had been so very long now, John only a distant speck on the horizon in Hawk’s wake. Why he crowded into Hawk’s mind now was a mystery. He probably didn’t even remember John’s face correctly. Over the years, it had surely morphed and reshaped in his memory.
Yet he could still see the red crosses on the Spanish sails. With the metallic tang of John’s blood in his mouth, Hawk had climbed the mast for his lookout duty and scanned the seas, eager for another battle. Wishing the Spaniards would pursue them once more so he could blow them to smithereens.
Perhaps it was that day his course was set to become a privateer, and now this, a lawless pirate.
Shaking his head, he ducked down the ladder. Plum waited in the cabin, limbs jittery with excitement as he asked, “Do you know how long the beach is? How far it extends? If I run—”
“You won’t be running.”
Plum smiled, a puff of laughter escaping with a flash of white teeth. “I told you, I don’t mean to escape. I am resigned to my fate as your prisoner. You threatened my sister, and I’d never endanger Susanna or her babe. Never. I will return. Or you could run alongside? No, not with your leg. Another crewman could?”
Hawk could not allow himself to be swayed. “No. You’ll stay on board.” He strode to his desk and sat in his chair, taking up his quill.
Plum certainly wasn’t laughing now. “But we made a bet. I won. I know you remember. Those stitches in your leg should prompt you.”
“I remember. Nassau is not suitable. Far too many people. It’s not possible.”
“But you promised!”
Unbelievably, an apology formed on Hawk’s tongue, and he barely bit it back. Why should he be sorry to break an oath to his hostage? He was a pirate, after all. Walter Bainbridge had seen to that.
Still, he found himself saying, “Too many people. We’ll find an island soon enough. We need to make repairs thanks to that lunatic Alfred. Somewhere uninhabited. Big enough for you to have a run.” There, he was being reasonable.
Plum shook his head, pacing, rolling his shirtsleeves past his elbows, displaying a hint of the firm, trim muscles hidden beneath the linen. “Can I at least go ashore? Get off this ship and stretch my legs?”
“You’ll stay here.”
“You’re a liar,” Plum spat, creamy cheeks flushing as he paced.
While Hawk had thought him quite plain upon first glance, now he found himself drawn to Plum’s face. A few times whilst reading aloud, he’d lost his place in the text because he’d found himself watching Plum and the way he listened with his eyes closed, a dreamy smile tugging at his mouth.
A few freckles on his nose caught Hawk’s eye, and then Plum’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Why did I believe you even for a moment?” he demanded. “Why did I think better of you because you read to me and were kind about my deficiencies?”
Hawk tore his gaze away. “I don’t know, since apparently I must remind you I’m a fucking pirate!” Plum’s anger and hurt shouldn’t have moved him. He shouldn’t have wanted to live up to any expectations. Why the devil should he care? He had nothing to prove.
“Can I at least go up on deck?”
“No.” He wanted to explain that there were too many risks; that if Plum were captured by another crew, he might be tortured or worse. And I won’t get my ransom. That’s what’s really important. He sneered. “You’ll survive.”
