Queen Of My Nightmare (Uncharted Secrets, Book 2): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories (5 page)

Laughing as he took a shot of rum, he swallowed down the flavor that lingered on his breath and smiled at me. “We cleaned her up nicely, eh?” He waved his hand around the clean deck. It looked as if it had never seen a war. Everything was spotless. The body parts were gone, buried at sea. The sand had all been swept away, taking the splatters of blood with it. The gunnels that had been blasted to bits had already been repaired. As I looked around in awe, Mason told me, “We’ll be mending the rest of the battered hull tomorrow, and you can bet your candied arse Mister Gilroy will be working extra hard to make up for me having to do his job earlier.”

The terrible memory of Mason
doing Mister Gilroy’s job
flashed through my mind—Ziare’s heart-ripping screams included. Not wanting to ever again revisit the thoughts that would forever make me want to vomit, I shook with shivers and asked, “How is Ziare doing?”

“He’ll be all right. I’ve learned a thing or two from the doctors who’ve sailed with me, and though that was the first time I’ve hacked through a limb myself, I’ve done a few cauterizations. From what I gather that’s the important part. Getting everything back in place and all sealed up nicely.”

Suddenly, the fearsome acts of war which terrified me to the point of sickness, reminded me how ferociously brave he was. I would always be safe with him. And because of his dedication to those whom he loved, I would always be cared for.

Shark and Perk came over laughing so hard about something that I couldn’t even understand them. Mason started poking and jesting right along with them. While they teased each other, I looked out across the moonlit sea. Reid had already sailed away with his winnings and the solitude at sea made me feel tiny and afraid. But next to Mason Bentley, there was truly nothing to fear. Regardless of all my attempts to deny it, by his side was the best place for me to be.

X

“Hannah.” The sultry whisper awoke my senses. All of them. “Hannah, my sweet.” I felt kisses on my neck and a hand on my hip. Struggling to open my heavy eyes, I saw Mason kneeling before my bunk with the light of morning sun faintly illuminating the room behind him.

I touched his bearded face. “You called me by my name.”

“Aye. I miss my princess.” He kissed on my neck.

My cold dark heart warmed up. “I miss you, too. But, I can’t believe you are in here. What if you get caught?”

“Ah, it’s early, everyone is still asleep. After yesterday’s success I told them to take the morning off, and I want to spend a bit of my holiday with you. Look, I even brought you a present.” He handed me an orange.

Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around him and did my best not to cry. “Thank you, my love.”

“You’re still calling me love after everything you’ve seen?”

Clearly remembering everything I had seen, I pressed the blood-soaked memories out of my mind. “Yes. Because you brought me an orange.” I climbed onto his lap.

“If I ever retire, I’m going to plant you an orange tree.” He leaned against the door, keeping me on his lap.

While peeling the orange, I asked, “Do you plan on retiring?”

“I never thought of it until I just said that to you.”

“Well, now I am curious. Do you plan to buccaneer for all of your days?” I inquired, wondering how our future together was going to work.

“As of yet I have no other plans.” He chomped his teeth towards my orange.

“Does the savage want a bite?”

He raised his eyebrows to signal yes.

As I fed him the first piece of orange, he bit at my fingers. Loving the way it felt to be close to him again, I lay my head on his shoulder as we shared my fruit. We talked for a while about silly, lighter subjects, and while we whispered and giggled like secret lovers sneaking out on a forbidden rendezvous, I remembered why I loved him so.

Grey clouds rolled across the early morning sky as we talked, and once he finally kissed me, it started to rain. As the light, heavenly teardrops drizzled on the face of the sea, he reached his hands up my shirt and rubbed on my back. It felt so good to be touched by him, again. Soon enough his hands slid around my ribs, and as he caressed my breasts, I did my best to contain my sensual sigh.

I tried to run my hands up his shirt as well, but he flinched. “No, no. I got stabbed up yesterday.”

Remembering the bloody slash I had seen on his side, I moved my hands to his face instead and traced around the split he had acquired on his lip. “You are so brave and so strong.”

“And so ready.” He bumped his hips beneath me. “Take your breeches off.”

Stunned by the lack of romance in his tone, I glared at him with a look of offense. He held his hands up. “We don’t have to. But it sure would be sweet if you wanted to.”

Figuring such a rare moment of intimacy would not come again for quite some time, I slid out of my breeches. “You’re such a rebel you even break your own rules.”

Undoing his breeches, he laughed, “Pirate.”

Seeing just how ready he was, I straddled his lap. He grabbed my arse and pulled me down on him. “Oh, it feels so good.” I bit on his ear.

“Shhh.” He moved me up and down on top of him in a way that made it insanely difficult to keep myself quiet.

The risky nature of the moment seemed to intensify the heat burning between us, like molten lava building beneath the surface of the earth. Feeling my cheeks flush, I pulled his face against my chest and bit on my lips to keep quiet as he loved me. I could tell he was also struggling to contain his vocal expression of pleasure, but the desire pouring out through his palms spoke to me just the same.

Raindrops fell harder as we melted together. He pulled me closer. The buzzing sensation below my waist became too much to bear. Wrapping his hands so tight in my hair that it hurt, he pushed me down hard on top of him and filled me with his love. Loving the way he breathed when he finished, I wanted to stay right there on his chest with his heart beat slowing against my cheek, but with a silly laugh, he slapped my arse. “Holiday’s over.”

Standing up, I felt light on my feet. As I caught my balance, he fixed his belt and grumbled, “Normally I love the rain, but not when it’s chasing me away from you.” He stood up. “You should go check the sky, and I’ll wake the men.”

“All right.” I straightened my dirty clothes, feeling all too womanly with the sensual buzz still ringing through my body.

“Get your wits about you, Midnight.” He winked at me and headed out of the door.

Standing there in a love-struck trance, I replayed the short-lived romance in my mind a few times until I heard the men stirring above. Remembering my orders to check the weather, I continued getting ready for the day.

With kohl under my eyes, my hair tied back in the black cloth, and my weapons in place, I took a look out of the porthole. The blasted rain that Mason left me for rolled away as fast as it came in, and while admiring the beaming ray of golden light shining on the sea before me, I thought about my future.

I was as rich as a queen. I couldn’t believe it. What in the world would I do with my newfound, hard-earned wealth? The world I lived in was as ugly as it ever was, and I was still but a mysterious feather in the wind. But now, being richer than the noble coxcombs who originally robbed me of my freedom ashore, I could afford all the freedom they stole from me.

There was no amount of money that could ever heal my heartbreak, but if I was going to be heartbroken either way, I might as well be rich and free.

Chapter 5

Blood on the Bulkhead

R
oug
h
seas on the way to Barbados as a child gave me nightmares. Wild tides on Lucifer’s ship as a prisoner gave me hope that my nightmares would sink to the bottom of the sea. But this storm I was now facing on
Esmerelda
as a buccaneer was one of the greatest feats of man and nature I had yet witnessed. In the pouring rain the men slipped and slid about the decks, fighting like warriors to keep her afloat, and Mason—who loved the rain—blasted roaring commands like Thor himself. His voice ripped through the sky like thunder and his orders struck the wet decks like lightning, sending the men in whatever direction he fired in. It was a glorious dance of the most fearsome movements, teetering between life and death, but as the captain had hollered across the wind many times, death was not an option.

The heart-racing, breathtaking harmony played throughout the night, slowly rolling to a close with the rising sun. Pink and orange clouds danced across the yellow sky, smiling on the sea as she tamed. The way the colors reflected on the tattered canvas sails made me want to paint. But painting was a long lost pastime. I was a navigator now and like Seth said, my work was never ending.

After measuring our bearings and marking the chart, I was pleased to see that we had not veered too far off course. “Look, Seth, we’re halfway to Tortuga.”

“Unless we hit another storm. Did I tell you I hate storms?” He took another shot of rum.

Seth had been drunk since that battle, and his disdain for life in general had deepened greatly.

“Yes, you told me you hate storms. Quite a few times. I also know that you hate Mason, your father, the bitch who broke your heart, and turnips.”

Gagging dramatically, he slapped at the desk. “My father made me eat my turnips. So those disgusts are one in the same.”

Rolling out a new piece of parchment, I braved the nerve to ask, “Is that the reason you hate him so?”

“No.” He growled. “He is a rich son of a bitch and…” He took another shot, which mostly dribbled down his chin. “And it is his fault I am here. I could have been home, drinking tea like he does, but nooo, he had other plans for me. Well, you know what, Father,” he started shouting his resentments at the bulkhead, making me regret that I ever asked, “I don’t want to be like you! I never wanted to be like you. I had other plans and now all I have is this!” He ripped up a blank piece of parchment. Like a rabid dog, he started biting the tattered pieces.

Feeling threatened by his ravenous craze, I slowly came to my feet.

While I started backing out of the door, he grabbed one of the pistols off his belt. My heart jumped into my throat, and while trying not to choke on it, I also grabbed mine. With my blood rushing like river rapids, I wondered if I should react so brashly, but to my relief, he only handed his gun to me. Wait! To me? “Why the hell are you giving me this?” Figuring the gun was better off in my hands than his, I accepted the offer.

“So you can shoot me. Right here.” He tapped his forehead. “I know you want my job, anyhow, so just kill me and you can take it. You’re ready for this, Midnight. Navigation is in your blood.”

Far more concerned with his suicidal threats than amused by his compliments, I thought back on the day I’d considered killing myself. Feeling a great deal of empathy for the angry mole of a man, I tried my best to talk him out of it. “Your life is not mine to take. Nor is it yours. You have a gallant skill to offer the world, and if you truly want to find another way to use it, I am sure the captain will let you go once you have me trained. Next time we get to port—”

“Get out of here!” He screamed like a lunatic. “Get out before I kill you instead!”

Without waiting to see if he would, I backed out of the door, shutting it behind me. Oh my.
What a mess that poor man is
, I thought as I walked down the hall. I said a little prayer for him as I climbed the gangway, but as soon as the light of day touched my skin, I heard a gunshot.

The sound shook me to my soul, and as the echo rang in my ears, a great sickness overtook me. Resisting the urge to vomit, I leapt out of the way when Mason flew past me, inquiring bunch of men in tow. The vocal expressions of disgust coming from below clarified what I had dreaded. While cursing myself for not talking Seth out of shooting himself, I leaned over the gunnel and threw up into the sea.

X

The sail maker wrapped Seth’s body in a piece of canvas, and after stuffing a chain in there to help him sink, he sewed up the seams. The men all gathered together on the main deck where Mason led a prayer service before the sullen group.

“We all know Seth didn’t like us one bit, but he was one of us nonetheless. So Lord, together as a group who appreciated that angry little fellow’s loyal services, we pray that you take him in with open arms and hope that he’s happier amongst them angels than he was with us buccaneers. Amen.”

With a few amens and huzzahs, the men lifted Seth’s lifeless body and tossed him into the sea. The sound of the canvas bag hitting the ocean made me feel sick to my stomach, and the sight of Gruff crying on Ziare’s shoulder made me also want to weep.

“I liked that little bugger,” Gruff wailed. “He was mean and snippy and he reminded me of my cranky ol’ grandmother.”

“There, there, mate.” Ziare patted Gruff’s back with his one arm.

They had feelings. All of them. Though no one else was weeping like that chubby old Gruff, everyone else looked as sad as could be. This group would never cease to amaze me.

“All right, cry time is over,” Mason announced. “Weep while you work if you must, but no more standing around. Midnight, come with me to talk about our future at sea, and the rest of you salty buffoons need to keep your arses the hell away from me while we figure this shit out.”

Following behind the captain, I realized that this terrible incident meant so much more than the death of a crewmate. It was the death of our way at sea…

Locking the door behind us, Mason pointed at a chair. “Sit down.”

I did.

“What did Seth say to you before you left the room?”

Reliving the awkward last moments of Seth’s life, I did all I could to hold back my tears.
There’s no crying at sea,
I told myself, and went on to tell Mason everything in one long sentence with no pauses and hardly a breath taken. Feeling lightheaded when I finished, I took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. “That is all.”

“So, he said you’re ready, aye?” Mason stroked his long goatee.

Surprised that he only found interest in that part of the story, I squinted at him. “He did, but…”

“But what?” He shook his fist, rushing me along.

“Why are you being so pushy?”

“I’ve got work to do. Lots of it, and most of it depends on what you’re going to tell me right now.”

Stunned by his harsh tone, I started to choke up. “He said that I was ready for the job and that navigation is in my blood.”

“All right.” He smiled slyly and pulled a note out of his pocket. “Look what that fen-sucked shit face left for us.”

Unraveling the note Mason had balled up, I read these words:

To whoever the hell finds this,             

Midnight might be ready to lead your way, and if he isn’t maybe you will all die at sea. Either way, I am fine with it. Tell my father this is all his fault, and tell Mason Bentley I hope he chokes on a turnip.

Sincerely, Seth

“This is insanity. He was insane.” I stared at the words.

“Apparently.” Snatching the note out of my hands, Mason stuffed it back in his pocket. “Now, I have to show his ol’ man this shitten letter. Unless I choke on a turnip afore we get back.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle over his comment, but then I inquired, “You knew his father? He told me how much he hated you both but never said why.”

“Ah, I did some work for his father once. He’s an old time navigator who retired ashore as rich as a governor. He spoiled Seth to the point of idiocy, and though the bloke was as smart as the books he read, he hadn’t a lick of common sense. Well, his father wanted me to take him out and
sense him up,
if you will. He’s hated us both ever since.”

“Oh my. And I had thought for a minute that you were a big ol’ hypocrite.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you always talk about freedom, but he told me you coerced him into service.”

“I kind of did.”

“Yes, but there was honor behind it. You were helping his father.”

“I suppose. But there’s nothing honorable about telling a man his son died under my watch.” He shook his head in shame.

“But it isn’t your fault.”

“Right or wrong, I tend to fault myself for all the deaths under my flag. I like these blokes, and though the risk is their own, I always feel responsible for them.”

“That is what makes you a good captain, Mason. You are such a good man.” Suddenly feeling terribly guilty myself, tears filled my eyes. “I feel like I should have stopped him. I should’ve checked for another gun but I thought he was going to try to shoot me. I left for selfish reasons and now he is gone. I think I will forever feel like it is my fault!”

Mason’s face drooped then he shook his head. “God, no, Han…” He almost said my name. “No. It isn’t your fault, and he would have done this shit sooner or later. I’m just glad he shot his own self and not you. Now, back to business. Are you ready to do this, Midnight?”

The thought of everyone’s lives being in my hands made me realize the weight Seth had been carrying. Unable to control it any longer, tears streamed down my cheeks.

“Stop crying. You can’t be crying.”

“Why not?” I shouted. “Gruff was crying.”

“Our lives are not in Gruff’s hands.” He slammed his hand down on the tabletop. The brash landing of his palm, as much as his words, caused me to choke on my heartbeat.

At that moment, I realized I had never had to care for anyone but myself, and the thought of everyone’s fate being in my hands terrified me to no end. But there was no way out of it. I took a deep breath. “Take me to the chartroom.”

So he did. And there, in the room that had mostly been cleaned of Seth’s guts, I showed Captain Bentley the maps I had been working on. All of which were now stained with the blood of the man who last carried this burden.

“Look. Last time I measured we were right here. I’ll need to measure again, and reset our course, but, well, being new at this, it’d be helpful to have an assistant.”

“All right. Who do you think will be best at the job?”

Thinking over the men without much interest in their skills, it was easy for me to pick. “Shark. I like him best.”

Mason squinted at me in a way that reminded me that he still saw me as his woman. “Sometimes I think you like that little Shark Bite more than you should.”

“Nonsense,” I whispered. “It troubles me enough to like you. I’d never curse my soul with the interest of another.”

“Fair enough.” He smirked. “So, do we have all this under control?”

“Yes.” I twiddled my fingers. “Yes, but, well…Can I hug you? I need a hug.”

Standing against the closed door, he pulled me against him. “Hug away, my sweet.”

Fighting like a warrior to push the most recent torments out of my mind, I held him tight and sighed, “I love you, Mason. Thank you for everything.”

He chuckled, “Shit, I feel like
everything
is my fault. Maybe I should’ve just made you wait for me and you wouldn’t be dealing with all this crazy shit.”

Peeking up at his handsome face, I snickered, “But then I wouldn’t be a rich and free navigator of the sea.”

He smiled. “Kiss me, my saucy little Viking.”

With the heat of his kiss warming the chill of my worried soul, I began to feel like a flower blooming in the spring. His hand brushed my cheek like a gentle breeze through a sunlit field. As I fell limp in his arms, he growled like a hungry bear grazing the peaceful meadow I’d found in my mind. “Let me love you again, Hannah.”