A/N: OMG I'M SO SORRY!!! This chapter was going to be a LOT longer, but then I realized how long it had been since I updated, and decided to end it a little earlier so y'all could have your fill. lol. My goodness... it's been like forever since I posted the last chapter. I'm SO sorry. Do forgive me.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter!! Thanks SO much for reading, my good fellows! Hope you're all well!
The smell of the sea perforated her nostrils, arousing her senses. Her eyelids fluttered lightly, and she inhaled to soak in the comforting scent. Her eyes felt heavy and thick on her face, and she lifted a sore arm to rub them irritably. She felt her wet cheeks, and vaguely remembered that she had been crying. Apparently she had cried until she'd fallen asleep. How pitiful, she mused, emitting a low sound of exasperation. She was crying over a man she barely knew, simply because she had discovered the sort of man he really was—the fact made her dizzy with self-disgust. Shaking her head, she rolled over lazily, and finally opened her eyes.
The first thing she saw—and it wasn't a welcoming sight—was the hovering and familiar face of a dark and disheveled pirate. Her entire body jerked uncontrollably in surprise at the sudden image. "Oh," she gasped, placing a hand over her heart to calm herself. "Sir… I'm sorry, you just…"
He smirked. "Sorry t' frighten ye, love," he slurred, "but we're nearin' Port Nassau. Thought ye'd be glad to hear it, and keen to get your bearings 'fore ye set off in an entirely new town without even a shilling or a friend to speak of. Excited, are you?" His tone was sour, but his expression haughty and unconcerned. He sat back lazily in the chair still propped at the bedside. It balanced on its back legs while he rested his grimy boots on his own sheets. The dirty soles were close to Carlotta's thigh, and she glared at them, feeling aggravated by his nonchalance.
"Are you trying to convince me not to jump ship, Captain?" she inquired, knitting her eyebrows together as she slid her legs over the side of the bed and pushed herself into a standing position. He gazed up at her coolly, his eyes not betraying a single emotion. But then, she supposed, murderers weren't particularly emotional people. He swung his legs down from the bed, and his boots hit the floor with a dull clunk.
His posture was composed as he stood, his arms swinging flamboyantly as usual at his sides. "Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'," he told her, his eyelids drooping languidly. "Though it really is a shame, losin' such a pretty sight aboard. 'S not often one sees such a ripe maid like yourself on a pirate ship, let alone gets to indulge in 'er gentle company." His words went right to her throat, and she felt choked.
Swallowing, she shook her head. "Excuse me?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "Never mind," he grunted, gesticulating dramatically at her to shoo her away from the bed. She did not move, but instead watched his hands as they fluttered about. They were clean of the blood that had stained them earlier, but they were still extremely dirty. He reached out and lightly pushed her out of his way so that he could flop down onto the bed himself. He let out an appreciative groan as his limbs went slack, and his eyes fell closed. "I have so missed this bed," he sighed to himself. Carlotta was not listening. She let him take back his bed without a word. She would have given it to him if he'd simply asked, but that was not her concern at the moment. Her eyes were still fixed on Jack's hands, and the image of the murder they'd committed was living tangibly inside her like a parasite. She noticed unhappily that the edges of his fingernails and cuticles remained crusted in dried blood. Her lip curled in disgust.
Tearing her gaze from his dangerous fingers, she looked back at his face. "You do understand, don't you," she asked, "why I want to leave?" Her tone possessed a hint of guilt. It was also thick with regret.
He squinted up at her. "Sure," he hissed with slight bitterness. "The pirate's life just isn't for everyone."
She shrugged, and let her lips tighten in an awkward smile. "Mm," she replied vaguely, wandering away from him and putting a hand tenderly to her shoulder to feel it. It hurt less than it had before, and she was thankful. But there was no denying that it was still painful, and she could not move too strenuously without feeling that sting sear through her. She glanced around the cabin to avoid looking at Jack again. "Er," she stuttered, "Captain? Where's my dress?"
"Don' ask me, love," he replied unconcernedly. "Why can't you wear what you're wearin' now?"
She looked down at herself. "You can't expect me to spend my whole life as a male, can you? Tortuga was one thing, but…"
Jack heaved a sigh, and sat up suddenly. "Ye'd probably be flogged in Port Nassau for it," he finished for her. "Yeah, I see your point."
Carlotta swallowed anxiously. "Flogged?" she breathed.
His eyebrows rose, and his lips retracted in a sneer. "Most o' the world isn't even half as open-minded as we pirates are, lass," he told her. "But it was your decision to go, and I ain't goin' to stop ye."
She shook her head, feeling it pound angrily. Her eyes were sore as she glanced about the cabin again to scan it for her dress. "You're sure you didn't take it with you from the other ship?" she asked hopefully, though she was doubtful. "I don't have any money for another, and I don't quite fancy wearing your clothes for the rest of my days."
He threw back his magnificent head and gave a loud, barking laugh. "Have ye learned nothin' from your limited time here?" He searched her once over with his eyes before returning to stare pointedly into her face. "Apparently not, seein' as you still seem to figure me a murderer. I ain't no murderer, little girl," he snarled, "I 's simply a pirate, and you're simply too naïve for yer own good." He scoffed. "I'm a downright legend in Nassau, darlin'," he explained to her with a proud nod. "Sacked the entire port once before, an' I ne'er even killed a soul in the process. Didn't even fire a shot." His eyes sparkled, and Carlotta heart thumped loudly, wondering where he was going with this story. "If ye wanted a dress there, love, I assure you it'd be only too easy to get ye one." He stood slowly, and she gulped.
"Are you insinuating that… you would steal me a dress?" Her voice sounded extremely tense, for she felt as though she was suffocating. What kind of life had she damned herself to when she escaped Santiago with Jack? Was she really stuck in this life of thievery and lawlessness? She shook her head determinedly. "No, sir," she told him firmly. "I won't have you stealing in my favor."
He chuckled. "If you say so, Carla," he said with an unconvinced shrug. "Alright, then. No stealing." He narrowed his kohl-lined eyes at her, scrutinizing her face. "But there are other ways." He smiled at her apprehensive expression. "Legal ways, like simply purchasing the desired dress with good, solid currency." He sniffed disdainfully at the thought. "If it pleases you, I can buy it for ye, seein' as you're poor as a dog at the moment. Actually, a dog in Nassau's prob'ly richer 'n you, even. Y' know, ye'd be a good lot better off if ye traveled as a lad. You could get a job… make some money to get yourself food, an' living arrangements. As a woman, however…" He glanced her up and down again. "Well, I'd hate to see a body that pure be forced into prostitution, but…"
Carlotta gave a small squeal, and threw her arms protectively around her torso "I wouldn't!" she cried. "I wouldn't do that!"
"Ye'd be surprised what women 'ave to do to keep themselves alive out there in the real world."
"My mother was a teacher," she said huffily. "She was a respectable teacher, and she had a family, and a life, and… she never needed to resort to that! Why should I?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "Because you, unlike her, are in quite a rotten spot o' trouble, now, an' ye have no money, an' no one to take care o' ye, so you won't have much of another choice."
Fury rose in Carlotta's chest, and her uncharacteristic boldness was fueled again. "How dare you!" she spat heatedly. "I would never submit myself to such degradation! How dare you even utter it?"
He chuckled cruelly, taking an ominous step towards her. "I dare a great many things, Carla, m' dear," he quipped. "But you listen 'ere, girlie. There are a rare few lasses I've met over time who I'd not appreciate to become a whore, and you're surely among 'em." Their eyes locked, and Carlotta's heart twanged uncomfortably. "You'd best not disappoint me, love."
She shuddered, and shifted awkwardly, fidgeting with the bandages under Jack's shirt that she still donned. "Well I certainly don't plan to," she mumbled, glancing away from him. What sort of an order was that? Don't disappoint him? By doing what? Becoming a whore? Well, she most certainly wouldn't be doing that any time soon, so if that was his meaning, he needn't worry. "I don't plan to live as a man, either," she told him stubbornly. "I like being a woman."
"Of course you do," he growled, moving still closer towards her. "Especially, I'm sure, after what your own father tried on you."
Her lungs went cold, and sweat broke out all over her dirty skin. "What?" she breathed painfully. "What… are you saying?" The memory was returning to her, and she didn't think she could handle it. It was making her ill—his face above hers, his bloodstained hands pinning her down, his drunken slur of threats being snarled into her ear… She couldn't stand it. She covered her face with her palms, fighting back a pitiful desire to cry again. "I'm still a woman," she squeaked breathlessly. "He didn't take that away from me. He hasn't stolen all my pride. He hasn't. I still love being a woman."
"Oh, bleedin' hell," Jack grunted. "Don't cry." She could hear the tenseness in his voice, and looked up, her eyesight blurred, but her face dry. His expression was uncertain. "All I meant was tha' if ye plan on livin' life in Nassau as a woman without money… you aren't goin' to have many options."
She nodded, feeling choked. "I know," she managed. "But I'll handle it."
"I bloody well hope so. I'd never forgive you if ye got raped. You're so delicate."
"I am not delicate!" she fumed, stomping her foot in another sudden outburst. "What makes you think I can't take care of myself, you nosy clod?"
Jack smirked at her rage, leaning back on his heels with his arms crossed as he swayed on the spot. "Now, now, darlin'," he warned, "is that really any way for ye to address your captain?"
She let out a wail of irritation, wringing her hands in Jack's calm face. "Oh…you!" she shrieked madly, suddenly losing her head completely. "You… you…! What would you really do to me, anyway? What would you dare to do if I were to talk down to you, Captain?" She could feel her pulse in every inch of her, she was so irrationally furious.
With one stride, Jack was standing directly above her. He collided with her outstretched hands, which recoiled to her sides instantly at the sight of his intimidating expression. This close to him, she could feel the warmth of his body radiate over her, and trace every line of his beautiful features if she tried. His chest was dangerously close to her face, and she struggled with herself not to touch him intimately. Glaring determinedly up into his wild eyes, she cursed herself mentally for being so attracted to such a rogue. Then again, she reminded herself, she was just as much of a rogue as he was. Her temper was high, her nerves were on edge, and she was feeling uncomfortably lightheaded with anger, yet her attraction to him was still evident. This made her even angrier, and her small hands balled themselves into fists as Jack gazed condescendingly down at her.
"You wouldn't care to know, love," he whispered hoarsely. He was so close that she could actually feel the heat of his rancid breath hitting her face. The sound of his gruff voice sent a pleasing sensation through her system, and her thighs began to ache. The forbidden place between her legs gave a painful throb, and she clenched her jaw to restrain her shameful lust. "You wouldn't want to know the kinds of things I could do to you." His dark gaze shot downward to her lips, and then again to her chest, which was heaving dramatically with her quickened heartbeat.
She swallowed. "You wouldn't hurt me," she said adamantly. "You wouldn't be able to."
"You've given me no reason t' hurt you, darlin'," he growled, "but don't think I couldn't. You'd be surprised how capable I am in the hurtin' of sweet, tender, vulnerable young ladies such as yourself." His crooked, handsome grin glinted at her in the pale light of his cabin.
For a moment, they were frozen in their position, both apparently without any notion of what else to do. Carlotta's heart was winding her, and the fact that she could feel Jack's heart beating in front of her was not helping her any. It made her long for him even more strongly than before, and that frightened her.
But then a fortuitous creak of wood resonated through the cabin, and Carlotta gave a small lurch of fright as she spun back to reality. She began to inch away from Jack, preparing to leave, when she felt his sudden grasp around her wrist. Shocked, she glanced down at his hold on her. Hardly long ago, she had witnessed that hand slit the throat of an innocent man, and now he dared use it to hold her to him? She fearfully shook her arm to get him off of her, but his grip was strong. Her heart nearly leapt out of her mouth as she recalled in vivid flashes her struggle to shove her father off of her. "Let go of me," she croaked. "Please don't hurt me."
He emitted a low chuckle from the back of his throat, and yanked her back towards him. She gasped loudly, blind fear striking her harshly. Her lungs opened up, and she let out an instinctive scream, but his hand closed over her mouth. The shock of this action was enough to shut her up, but he did not remove his hand. His fingers were rough on her lips, and she grew increasingly damp between her thighs. Her lust had mounted so high, that when he tugged her suddenly into his face so he could stare right into her eyes, an involuntary whimper of aroused desire escaped her. "I'm not goin' to hurt ye, love," he snarled, still keeping his palm pressed over her mouth. Her eyes were wide, and her nasal breathing heavy, but she nodded. Her heart was pounding so hard, and her stomach twisting so violently, she could have sworn she was going to be ill. At her nod, he finally removed his hand from her mouth, and as the air flooded her mouth again, she sighed gratefully.
His other hand was still clutched tightly about her wrist, but she did not struggle anymore. As terrified as she was, she believed him when he said he would not hurt her. She had never been so close to a man before, nor had she ever been so sexually attracted to one. Only her arm, captured at the wrist by his dominating grasp, separated them. If he had let her arm fall, she would have been pressed flat against Jack's strong body. She was disgusted to realize her unconscious longing for that closeness. Fear, confusion, wonder, and curiosity were tearing through her mind and body like a hurricane, destroying all rationality in their paths.
And then, to her utter bewilderment, Jack bowed his head and pressed his lips hard against hers. Her mind was blank, not registering what was happening. He lingered there only for a split second before shoving her away from him. He jerked his head towards the door. "We should be nearly there. Go on," he grunted. "I'll follow soon."
The realization of what had just transpired hit her suddenly, exploding in her skull like a cannon. "Sir…you…" she stuttered in tense disbelief. "What… was…?" A feeling of bitterness rose in her as she wished desperately that he had warned her, so she could have savored the feeling of it as it happened. But it had taken place, and now it was over, and the memory was already leaking away from her, no matter how hard she tried to retrieve it. "What… was that for?" she panted at last when she could finally string her words together properly.
He sniffed haughtily and fidgeted awkwardly with the fabric of his sash. "Call it my goodbye," he stated dully. He swallowed, and glanced at his floor. "Go on," he commanded again. "I'll follow you in a bit." At that, he swaggered away from her towards a separate compartment of his cabin.
Carlotta stood shaken and alone for several moments, wallowing in the events of the passed minute. How could he do that to her, and then just expect her to jump ship without a care? Did he assume her departure was easy for her? It wasn't. It was causing her regret she had not believed it was possible to feel. She never thought she would grow so attached to someone in her escape from Santiago—let alone to a murderous, alcoholic pirate. But her initial decision had been a sensible one, and she had to get away from him, now. If she didn't leave at this point… well, if she let things go further than they already had, she could find herself in the kind of serious trouble that she never wanted. She'd never wanted this life of piracy, nor had she ever wanted to become emotionally involved with anyone. But within the last week, she had both joined a pirate crew, and grown to actually care about her captain. Her captain who—though charming and fair—was lecherous, cruel, and had no love to give but to his dear ship. Her heart contracted, and she bitterly kicked the wall nearest her in a moment of overwhelming woe. "Curse him," she muttered under her breath. The bastard had her heart, she realized tragically. She felt numb all over. This was a pathetic fantasy, she reminded herself, and it had to stop.
Straightening herself up, she inhaled deeply. The rush of her breath caressed her lips, accentuating the cold dampness Jack had left there. She wiped her mouth urgently on Jack's sleeve, groaning with dislike. This nonsense had to end, she decided. Finally exiting the cabin, she breathed in the engulfing smell of the sea. It was mingled, now, with that of smoke and animals, and the lazy prattle of townspeople met her ears. As she stepped further out onto the deck, she saw they were pulling up to the dock of a vast and colorful port.
She felt her blood freeze as she heard the anchor drop with a crank, splash, and muffled thud. The reality of leaving Jack was finally sinking in, and she discovered the pathetic extent to which it was hurting her. She shook her head at herself. If he was able to reduce her to such hopelessness within merely a week, then she really did need to get away from him—before things got any worse than they already were.
A/N: Uuurg, I know, I know... cliffhangers are mean! How dare I?! lol. Don't worry, I'll update as soon as I can, my sweets! Hope you enjoyed it, though!! Reviews would be appreciated! Thank you dearly, my lovelies!! Weeeee!!
