She had new bruises and old scars on her from various men who had "had their way" with her. Various pirates. Which was why he surprised her.
"Come on, luv."
She could still hear his voice as he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the tavern. She could still hear the clatter of gold coins that he was too drunk to count as he pulled her upstairs to a room in an inn. She could still feel his hold on her as he kicked the door shut behind them. Still feel a tremor run down her spine as eloquent hands wrapped around her waist. But the thing of it was, it hadn't been a tremor of fear.
She could still feel herself falling asleep in his arms, her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.
And she could still feel the dismay of waking up not in his embrace, but to an empty room. Looking out the window at black sails leaving port.
It was a vicious cycle. He would come back to Tortuga and she would see other women in his arms, and that spark of jealousy would always rise up inside of her, because the way he'd held her was something a man usually reserved for one woman, not all the ladies of Tortuga.
But he wasn't any man, was he? He was Captain Jack Sparrow.
Giselle remembered this bitterly as she set to work for the night in the kitchen at the Faithful Bride, scrubbing angrily away at a mug that was already clean.
"Come on, luv."
She could still hear his voice as he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the tavern. She could still hear the clatter of gold coins that he was too drunk to count as he pulled her upstairs to a room in an inn. She could still feel his hold on her as he kicked the door shut behind them. Still feel a tremor run down her spine as eloquent hands wrapped around her waist. But the thing of it was, it hadn't been a tremor of fear.
She could still feel herself falling asleep in his arms, her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.
And she could still feel the dismay of waking up not in his embrace, but to an empty room. Looking out the window at black sails leaving port.
It was a vicious cycle. He would come back to Tortuga and she would see other women in his arms, and that spark of jealousy would always rise up inside of her, because the way he'd held her was something a man usually reserved for one woman, not all the ladies of Tortuga.
But he wasn't any man, was he? He was Captain Jack Sparrow.
Giselle remembered this bitterly as she set to work for the night in the kitchen at the Faithful Bride, scrubbing angrily away at a mug that was already clean.