Chapter Twenty-Nine
"Every man is afraid of something. That's how you know he is in love with you; when he is afraid of losing you."
-Unknown
"He didn't look this heavy," I complain, wrapping my fingers tighter around the mortician's scuffed brown boots.
"He doesn't look like he can throw much of a punch, either. Guess he's proved the both of us wrong, then; I'll probably have a bruise for a month!" Jack says, flexing his jaw.
I roll my eyes, glancing at the man's arms. He isn't incredibly scrawny; it's obvious he could take care of himself, if put to the test. "You only think he looks like he can't throw a punch because you see yourself as invincible."
Jack and I simultaneously drop the man on the floor inside the Morgue before turning to leave. I just hope he doesn't wake up to remember everything and tattles on one of us. "Who doesn't?" is the pirate's big-headed reply. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, darling!"
"No one is invincible, Jack."
He holds up a finger, as though he is proving a point. "I, love, am an exception to that rule."
"Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours," I say with a small smile, shaking my head at his confidence.
Jack reaches over and loops his arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him right then and there on the doorstep of the morgue. "I could show you," he whispers huskily, his breath rich and warm.
I don't even notice the people from the streets staring at us in shock as he cups my cheek with his hand and kisses me, his touches slow and lethargic. It's not until I feel myself pressing closer to him that I realize what I'm doing and back away from him, my lips burning and tender from his. "Stop," I tell him, taking a breath and opening my eyes.
"Oh," Jack says, "I forgot. Yer supposed to be angry with me still. My apologies, love."
I narrow my eyes at him. He really is unbelievable! "It's like you don't even realize why I would be angry with you."
He sighs. "It's not like that at all, darling."
"What's it like, then, Jack? You kiss Kamella and I just forgive and forget? I'm sorry if I don't fit into your invincible plan, but things aren't always that easy!"
I brush past him, angry and simply wanting to take a peaceful walk back to El Fantasma. But as I hear Jack's footsteps behind me, I know a peaceful walk is not what I'm going to get.
"Why are you always doing that?" he demands.
"Doing what?"
"Running away."
"I'm not running," I defend. "I'm walking."
He grabs my arm, pulling me to the side. "Same principal," he replies.
"You drive me insane," I snap at him. "You are so nonchalant and careless about everything. I'd rather just not deal with it now. Maybe I'll have enough patience tomorrow."
"What do ye want me to do?" the pirate asks. "Drop to my hands and knees and beg for yer forgiveness?"
I raise my eyebrows at this, remembering my thoughts from this afternoon when first seeing him, looking as dashing and confident when talking with Abegail. "I've thought about it," I admit.
He snorts. "Not gonna happen."
"The least you could do is recognize that you made a mistake," I tell him, my feet planted strong.
His dark, russet eyes are soft. "I know I made a mistake, Andie. I thought we had put this behind us."
I shake my head at him, causing a strand of black hair to slip from the loose braid at the base of my neck and into my eyes. "You broke my trust, Jack. Above all, that's what I value most. It's going to take a while."
Jack's eyes still locked with my own, he reaches over to tuck the piece of hair behind my ear. "I'm not good with these situations, love. I've pissed a lot of people off in my lifetime. And I've never given a shit before. But there's this feelin' that keeps eatin' away at me gut..."
I almost laugh in pity at his naive tendencies for emotions. "That's guilt, you wretch."
A small smile lifts at those supple, warm lips. "Yer calling me names again. Perhaps it's a good sign."
"I've been calling you names since that day I left you behind in Port Royal," I explain with a roll of my eyes. "And not good ones, mind you."
He sighs, curling his long fingers around my waist and giving me the most sensual, sad eyes I've ever seen posses those dark irises. "Forgive me, darling."
I try. I gaze back at him, telling myself that the kiss was nothing and he cares for me and everything should be perfect. I tell myself that my pride is nothing, that I should back my guard down, just this once. And yet that feeling of betrayal eats away at my gut like the guilt is to his own.
"You and I have something in common, Jack. A black heart. Perhaps part of me has been a pirate all along."
Once again, his face gives away nothing. "I've never doubted it, love."
I don't say anything for a moment, just feeling as his hands run up and down my arms once before falling back down to my waist, as though he cannot help himself but to touch me, to reassure himself that I'm real.
I close my eyes, thinking back on a time that I felt so pure, so happy and troubled all in the same time. There were so many emotions going through my veins when he showed up in my home for that party my father had planned in order to celebrate my engagement to Anson Beck. Jack had snuck up into my bedchamber every night and day for a week after that night, my brother aiding his entrances and escapes. I remember lying in bed with him after spending the entire night awake, making love with him until I absolutely could not any longer, begging him to stop before I went absolutely mad. And still we could not stop touching, kissing.
"Is this a dream?" I had asked him.
I'll never forget that grin on his face when he had told me no, it certainly was not. It was real. And in that moment, I knew I was going to leave with him. I still teased him, fought over the decision, but deep down, I knew all along I was going to follow him back to the Pearl. Perhaps part of me wanted to see if he really did want me, if he would risk everything just to get me back again. Part of me thirsted for the adventure, for the danger of running away from those people, from that place again.
I open my eyes, snapping back into reality. "Why did you follow me here, Jack?"
His palm curls around the back of my neck. "Ye know why."
I shake my head. "Tell me."
"Ye and I, darling," he says, "We're the pair no one thought would last. Yer the only woman who makes me feel drunk with one kiss, without one sip of rum. Yer the only challenge I still haven't been able to succeed."
I shake my head. "You got me into your bed. Isn't that enough?"
"No," he replies. "It's not."
"You know, I think part of me has been angry with you before I walked in on you with Kamella," I suddenly confess, the words bursting out with no control. He watches me with concentrated eyes, waiting for me to go on. "The morning we reached Port Royal, you told me it would be better if I just left, if I gave in and pursued whatever it was that Chester had planned for me. All I wanted was for you to ask me to stay. For once in my life, I was going against my instincts; I knew the moment those words would come out of your mouth I would plant my feet. Kamella and I, even Stanley when he was alive, that's what we do; we arrive somewhere, and three weeks later, we up and leave for somewhere new. And this time, I didn't want to leave. That was the first time in my life I had ever felt that way."
"And ye think I wanted ye to go?" Jack snaps. "I was only doin' what I thought ye wanted me to! Our lives coincide, ye said. I thought it would be better just to let ye go, to let ye live your life. I didn't want to keep ye from what ye obviously love to do."
My eyes narrow. "But now you will?"
He shakes his head. "Never, Andie. But I couldn't leave it like that. Not with ye hating me guts and everything on me ship reminding me of ye and that look on yer face when ye walked through that door to The Turner's kitchen. Ye keep haunting me, even when ye are too far away for me to comprehend."
I know the feeling. "I don't want to hate you," I tell him. "So, please, Jack. Just stop before you're ahead."
"You've always hated me," he puts lightly.
"No, I just wanted to," I argue. "Before I met you I was trying to turn my life around. I wasn't going to spend the night in another stranger's bed, I wasn't going to tell myself to just breathe and forget every night. I was tired of hanging on by a string. And then I met you."
"I don't understand," he says gently.
I inhale deeply, trying to keep the emotions boiling inside to stay at a simmer. I don't want to break down here, not in front of him. I've done that far too many times now. "You make me forget. And being with you... it keeps me hanging on by a string. I tried hating you for it. I even tried hating you for what I walked in on back in Port Royal. And you know what I've realized, Jack? "
He swallows. "What?"
"I hate you most for the possibility that you might actually love me. So, please, don't tell me you want what's best for me, and don't tell me you just want me to be happy. Just leave me be."
Jack doesn't allow me to walk away. "I can't," is his reply.
It would be so much easier to hate him, then. If he just threw down his arms and gave up on me all together. That way, I could tell myself he isn't worth it. But he won't, I know. When Jack Sparrow has his sights set on something, he won't give up; and most importantly, he doesn't fail.
I just shake my head, not tearing myself from his grasp but gently walking away, trying to ignore as he treads behind me, his footsteps heavy like a worry I am trying desperately to ease. Every once in a while I can tell he is opening his mouth to say something or reaching out to touch me, but a moment later he pulls his hand back, deeming me untouchable. I'm not running away from him, not this time. Now I just want some peace and quiet. I need to think.
And most importantly, I need rest. I haven't been sleeping well for a while now, too stressed and too many things on my mind. It all started with the dreams after we found Stanley back in the inn in Tortuga and is slowly getting worse. It's to the point where I am almost afraid to close my eyes.
Jack finally decides to speak up. "It doesn't have to be this way, you know."
I try to swallow the lump in my throat. "I know."
He reaches out with a soft but rough hand, touching my arm with such tenderness that I can't help but to close my eyes. "Andie..."
I have to lock my jaw and blink my eyes to try and keep the tears from revealing themselves. "You're not helping matters, Jack."
He steps in front of me, his fingers tracing the line of my jaw and neck. "And what do you suggest I do, then?"
I ignore this. "I really need to get back," I say as an excuse to break us out of this stupor. "There's a potential murderer waiting for me."
Jack's eyes narrow. "What?"
"A suspect I need to check out," I explain with a roll of my eyes.
"What did ye find back there, love?"
"Not much of significant use," I lie.
I keep my eyes on Norma Jean, trotting in front of me like some sort of a queen, distracting myself as Jack takes step beside me. "And the marking?" he asks.
"It was there," I conclude, remembering the sight of the two numbers cut deep into Maisie's pale arm.
"Look, pet, if ye don't want me to have anythin' to do with yer investigation, just say so."
I give him a blunt, sideward glance. "Jack, I don't want you to have anything to do with my investigation."
Said pirate gives me a disbelieved look. "What? Why not!"
"It was your idea for me to come out here and do this thing on my own in the first place, remember?" I proclaim.
Jack waves a finger in my face. "Not alone; with Chester, Kamella and Rodney."
I scoff. "Like they do any good, anyway. Chester's always disappearing, Kamella is always groping people she shouldn't be groping and constantly looking for a party, and Rodney is just here because you told him to."
Jack's brow furrows. "To help ye, to look after ye. I wasn't just gonna let ye run off all on yer onesies, darling, not with all the trouble the Fortunes are causing."
"No one even knows about the bloody Fortunes, Jack! We haven't heard anything for months!" I exclaim.
I storm off towards the El Fantasma, standing tall and proud not too much farther down the road. I'm so close that I can see and hear the crowd at the front doors, shouting things at the guards who surround the building, fretting about what is going on inside and demanding to know what happened and if they are safe in their own homes.
"Ye didn't see the things Stanley had in that room," Jack says, trying to grab a hold of me but I swat him away. "Dozens of articles, Andie. There were eight of ye with Athena's curse. Now there are three left; probably less by now."
"How do you know that?" I demand.
"Chester has it all mapped out, love. People do know about the Fortunes, and if yer not more careful about it, they'll be coming for ye too."
I shrug, shaking my head at him. "Let them." And with that, I dart off through the crowd and into the brothel.
88888
The chaos inside El Fantasma has only gotten worse since mine and Jack's departure an hour earlier. The sun is beginning to set and the rest of the girls are doubting their safety inside the house. I don't blame them.
I mean to make it up the stairs, but I'm stopped when a sudden hand reaches out and grabs my elbow. "Holla, bonita," the man says, grinning a mouth full of blackened, disgusting teeth that make me cringe.
"If I were in the mood, I'd kick your ass for touching me without my permission," I tell him miserably. "Go fuck with someone else."
But he doesn't let go; in fact, his fingers tighten on my skin. "No," he puts lightly.
I frown. "Look, buddy, there are guards everywhere in this place. One scream from me and you are dead meat."
He begins babbling, his accent so thick and his scent reeking horribly of stale whiskey that I have not a clue as to what he is saying. Trying to loosen his fingers bruising grip about my arm, I take a step back, hoping that he will drop his hand. When he doesn't, I can't help but to roll my eyes.
"Your kind never learn, do you? When a woman tells you to do something, you should do it," I pull my right arm back before snapping it forward, my knuckles striking the sleazy man right in the nose. "Cause' sometimes we fight back."
The man finally steps back, shocked by my sudden attack. When he looks back up at me with those big, bloodshot eyes, however, I am the one who is surprised when he quickly grabs me around the throat, those thick fingers threatening to squeeze all the breath from my body.
And then, as the first gasp leaves my mouth, a gun is cocked and pressed to the man's big red face. "Let her go," a voice from beside him hisses between clenched teeth. Rodney.
After a short moment's thought, the drunkard lets me go and Rodney pulls the pistol away. A guard stands beside him, ready to drag the bastard out of the building. But before he can get a hold of the beefy man's thick arms and slap them in irons, he leans forward so his face is close to mine. "They're coming," he bites out. "Can't you see?"
I feel myself tense up, looking back into his eyes without thinking. Who is coming? I want to ask him, but I am too shocked by these words that I am stunned. I can't move, I can't speak. Before he can say anymore, however, the guard drags him off towards the door, leaving him to only stare at me over his shoulder as he leaves.
"Are you all right?" Rodney asks, sitting down next to me on the steps.
I nod, chalking his words up to his drunken state. He didn't know what he was saying, right? "I'm fine. He was just... very strong," I explain, touching my throat with shaky fingertips.
Rodney is looking over my face and neck very carefully. "Are you sure? You look very tired."
"I haven't been sleeping well. Since... well, since Stanley died. Bad dreams and such, if I fall asleep at all," I explain, covering my eyes with my hand. That was close. Too close. I need rest, I need to relax; how can I fight this new evil if I can't even defend myself to a stupid bloody drunkard?
"I've noticed," he says, still looking to see if I am hurt anywhere. "Why don't you go upstairs and-"
"I'm fine, Rodney, stop looking me over like a patient. It makes me nervous."
He sighs. "Sorry."
Why am I being such a witch? "I don't mean to snap," I tell him in apology.
"I know," he says, "It's all right. But look, I'm glad I found you. I did a little research concerning the man Maisie said was stalking Tara."
"Really?" I reply, curious as to why he's acting so differently when he was just shouting at me an earlier. "What about him?"
"He doesn't exist."
Doesn't exist? "What?"
"I asked all the girls around here, even Abegail. She said Tara was one of the newer attributes to her business and hadn't had time to even gain any regular customers," Rodney explains.
My eyes narrow at this. "Hilary and Maisie are the ones who told me about the obsessive stalker."
Rodney raises an eyebrow. "Sounds suspicious. Perhaps one of them is hiding something."
"Or they both are. Were, in Maisie's case. She doesn't have a chance to hide much now; dead men tell no lies, and all."
"Did you find anything on the corpse?" he asks.
I hold up my index and middle fingers. "Two things, actually. You were right about the markings on her arm. They were numbers; 2 and 8."
"Do you think that points to murder or suicide?"
I shrug. "Depends on what the numbers mean." Then suddenly, Rodney tenses up. "What is it?" I ask him.
"There was an assigned painter here this morning. He was numbering the doors to the rooms," the first mate of the Black Pearl explains.
"You think the numbers lead to one of the rooms?" I ask with a raised brow. Needless to say, I'm impressed by his quick thinking.
"Well, after you pointed out upstairs that Maisie's death could have been on her own hands, I started thinking. When Hilary and I found her body in that closet, the door was open. Not completely, it was enough to make a point," he says.
Suddenly, things are becoming a lot less muddled. "Like she wanted you to find her," I conclude.
Rodney nods. "Exactly. So, Room 28 would be our next step."
"You're really getting the hang of this," I tell Rodney with a smile, but as soon as the words fall past my lips, I realize the irony of the situation. "Not literally, I hope."
He laughs. "Look, Andie, I'm really sorry about the things I said earlier."
I hate apologies. I hate the awkwardness that comes with them, the hugs and the angst. When Jack and I argue, we won't make a big deal out of it afterwards. We kiss and makeup between the sheets, no words or 'I'm sorry's' needed. I guess it didn't work that this time, however.
"Water under the bridge," is my dismissive reply.
But yet Rodney continues. "I just want you to be happy. And if running back to him makes you happy, then by all means..."
"I didn't run back to him, Rodney."
He raises an eyebrow. "What happened, then?"
I ran back to him. "I don't know what came over me. I was yelling at him, and he was yelling at me, and then he was kissing me, and one thing lead to another..."
Rodney nods, a somewhat disappointed look crossing his handsome face. "Are you and he back together, then?"
"No!" I answer instantly.
"So you're just sleeping together?"
"Yes," I say. "I mean no. I... I don't know."
"Then why am I not chastising you for sleeping with Jack when you did when I slept with Kamella?" he asks.
I knew this was going to come back and bite me in the ass. "I don't know," is my reply. "Why aren't you?"
He shrugs. "Like I said, I just want you to be happy."
"I want you to be happy as well," I explain, "But Kamella is-"
"A fiend, I know."
"So why did you have sex with her?" I ask, "If you know how much of a backstabbing whore she really is!"
Rodney shakes his head. "You don't really want to know that, Andie."
I lean forward, resting my chin on my palm as I try and get a better, more honest, look at him. "Would I have asked otherwise?"
His dark eyes meet mind for a long moment. "She was the closest thing I could have to you," he finally says.
And for the second time today, I am completely speechless.
"I can't believe I just said that," he confesses, exhaling loudly. "It came out so wrong. That's not even what I really meant- "
I shake my head. "Rodney, you know if things were different..."
"You don't have to explain," Rodney replies. "You're in love with Jack, I know this."
I smile at him. "You have a crush on me," I taunt gently.
He rolls his eyes. "All right, stop it, you're making me feel stupid."
I laugh. "You're the first mate of the bloody Black Pearl, mate! You could have any girl you see!"
Rodney looks over at me, a small sad smile lifting his lips. "Except the one I really want."
I don't know how to respond to this. I exhale, opening my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
"Hey, look, water under the bridge, right? Let's go and solve this mystery before another girl ups and dies."
"I wish you would come pick me up
Take me out, fuck me up
Steal my records
Screw all my friends behind my back
With a smile on your face
And then do it again
I wish you would.
I wish you would make up my bed
So I could make up my mind
Try it for sleeping instead
Maybe you'll rest sometime
I wish I could."
"Come Pick Me Up" -Ryan Adams
Longest chapter I've written in a while. 10 pages. I'm proud of myself, haha.
Someone mentioned something to me in a review about my not responding to reviews on here any longer, so I thought maybe I would clear that up. First of all, as I mentioned many chapters back, I seem to have little time on my hands, sometimes. (School is out for the summer, so I have more than I did, but I still have a job, and you know, a life, so I don't always have time to sit down for a half hour and respond to every review I get). Secondly, there is a feature on now that I can respond to every review individually if someone asks me a question or something. I have answered many, many reviews and questions this way. I hope that explains the situation. But I have to admit, I do kind of miss answering them every chapter on here. Of course, if you all want me to take that up again I would mind, but if no one really cares about it, than what's the point? Let me know, I guess.
Anyways, much love to everyone!
