Note: This chapter again has some adultcontent around the beginning of the chapter, so please skip those parts if it's not your ideal reading fancy.
"What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say."
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Chapter Fourteen
Shuffling through the few papers that Jack found in the Fort's files, I come to a sketch of Keaton Weiss himself. Beneath the sketch of his appearance, cold eyes and a dark goatee, are a few snippets of personal information.
"It says here that Keaton was a soldier," I point out to Jack.
He nods. "I noticed. So, the question is, why would yer brother be interested in killing someone who works for the government? From what ye told me, he doesn't seem like one to be breaking rules."
"He's not," I agree. "None of this makes any sense!"
"I'm sure Loyal will clear everythin' up when he and Chester get here," Jack confirms.
Abruptly, my ears burn with footsteps from behind us. Turning cautiously, I see Ivory Nisa standing only a few feet away, hands on her thin hips and eyes a haunting black. "I guarantee, Mr. Sparrow, that when Loyal Butler reaches this island, he will not have the chance to make anything clear."
I glare, despising her for posing a threat to a member of my family, and just as much for using our last name. So many memories come flooding back by just hearing that one word; Butler.
"Don't look so livid, Miss Bryant," she says, surprising me. By using my pen name, it's now apparent that she doesn't yet know I'm related to Loyal. Or, my true identity, for that matter. "I'm only speaking the truth."
"What is it that you want?" I ask quite bluntly. I don't even want to know how she found our names.
A haunting grin turns up those stained lips. "I should be asking you the same question. You're the ones who kidnaped one of my accomplices, snuck into my abode, and then ran off without even an introduction."
"What can I say?" I smirk. "I'm not too fond of snakes."
"Ah," Ivory says, "But Eva's more than fond of you. How did you come across that curse of yours, anyway?" Her tone is smoky and persistent.
"That is none of your business," I snap, but with seemingly more confidence than ever before. Like Jack said, I'm a terrific actor. But truth be told, this woman actually makes me slightly nervous. She's somewhat chilling and entirely unpredictable.
A slow smile lifts at her cheeks but does not touch her cold eyes. "I see. Well, if you're not going to make the situation any easier, then we will most defiantly take it the hard way."
And with that, she walks away and into the cold shadows.
I feel Jack's rough palm touch the small of my back, and his breath against cheek as he says, "What have we gotten ourselves into?"
88888
"In order to raise a person who has been murdered, you need the life source of the man who killed him," Emmet says, pointing to a couple notes he had taken from an old, musty book that sits upon the counter. He apparently has a friend who is very interested in the super natural and no doubt obsessed with death, and had convinced him to let us borrow it. The world is full of many crazy, strange people.
"Which means," Jack begins, "That Ivory will need Loyal's blood to rise Keaton from his grave."
"And he's coming here!" I groan. Nice one, Chester. "It'll be incredibly easy for her to get him now."
"Not if we get to him first, love," Jack argues.
I try to think positive. "Well, let's just hope we do."
Emmet rises from his seat on the divan a few feet from Jack. "Well, I'm exhausted," he announces. "Mercy has already retired and I think I'm going to do the same." He comes over, taking my hand, and gives it a little comforting squeeze. "We'll keep Loyal safe. Don't worry, Robin."
I smile. "Thanks for all your help."
"Anytime." He turns to look at Jack, giving him a friendly smack on the shoulder. "Goodnight, the both of you." He nods at me, that warm smile still lifting at his lips, and then exits the room, leaving Jack and I to our lonesome.
"Well," the pirate says with a smirk.
"Well," I respond. Watching him with amused hazel eyes and one raised brow, he lurks closer, pulling me slyly into his arms.
Jack's lips unresistantly descend upon mine, and I comply without a second's thought, wrapping my arms firmly about his neck. His pace is slow and sweet, as usual, but with just as much passion as ever before. I incautiously part my lips, allowing his tongue access to my own. Heat flows through my veins and pools at my stomach, lingering there as he tangles one hand in my hair and brushes the other along my waist.
Everything seems so much more tender, more unforgettable when I'm with Jack. It's something that he does, the way he makes me feel, although I haven't yet placed my finger on what, that makes me urn for more of him.
Suddenly I'm slammed violently into the counter behind me, Jack's hands holding me tightly by the waist and his lips, so demanding, crushing against my own with bruising force. My head is so hazy, my mind blank and body responding to his caresses on it's own accord. It's almost an animal attraction.
"There's somethin' about ye," Jack begins, his hands roaming, grabbing at my clothing and touching anywhere he can, as those chapped lips travel and nip about my collar. "That drives me absolutely insane."
I press my curved frame against him, feverishly working on the buttons of his tunic. It's difficult, with those ivory teeth at my breasts and those hands tracing about my backside. The pirate captain releases a deep groan from the center of his chest, which, in return, causes ice cold tremors to climb down my spine.
I want him, hard, driving, passionate, and pounding inside me, causing me to break, to fall, and to die in that very ditch he trapped me in ever since the beginning. I want him to bury me alive in his very depths, to lock me in and throw away the key.
I push him back, hard, away from me, but soon follow his path to kiss him again, pulling him towards the table. Jack lifts me easily against him, and I instantly wrap my legs about his waist as he quickly sets me atop the flat surface, never taking his sweet mouth away from mine. My movements are entirely graceful as I push him onto his back, heart racing feverishly and thighs trembling.
My lips travel from his neck to his chest, teeth nipping and eyes locked on his own. My dark hair falls in front of my face, blocking our sight when I cannot take his heavy gaze any longer. Jack tangles one hand in my black locks as the other graces against my thigh, caressing gently, taking his precious time.
I unbutton his grey vest and shirt, kissing each patch of skin that is exposed as I yet move lower, feeling those fingers holding onto my hair that much harder. Throwing the disposed clothing across the room half heartily, I press once last kiss above the waist of his trousers.
Flipping me onto my back, he slowly begins working on the ribbons and ties of my dress, teeth untying and eyes sparkling. My fingers trace along the muscles of his arms, just feeling and remembering the texture of them. His tongue and teeth mark along my stomach as we both work on pulling off my dress, possessing me with a intense feeling of sanctification.
All I can remember now is how he moves, how he tastes. When he touches me on the inside I feel an utmost perception of bliss, of not only physical but emotional happiness, before and after, that I've never felt with any man before. The others I've been with have always just been there. I'm a woman, and I have my own needs, just the same as any man. But with Jack, everything is different. I actually feel.
The sounds of our gasps, of quick breathing. . . it's all I can focus on to keep my head straight. If I loose myself completely, loose all control, it'll all be over. I want to drawl everything out as long as I can. I want this feeling to last forever.
When everything does end, after minutes and minutes (not long enough) of pure rapture, of the most physical and mental comfort, we lay here for a long moment, just watching each other with dark, dilated eyes.
"This is all going to end soon, you know," I remind Jack. When we stop Ivory, when everything is done and finished. . . I'll be leaving again. And alas, so will he.
His fingers caress my cheek, running imaginary lines from my temple to the corner of my lips. Finally, he leans down to kiss my mouth. "I know, darling. I know."
88888
I can't sleep. I don't know whether this fatigue is simply from worry or nervousness, but something is keeping me awake. On the other hand, Jack, who is snoring softly beside me, is obviously not having the same problem.
Trying the best of my abilities not to wake him, I detangle myself from his arms and slip quietly from the bed.
"Where are ye off to?"
I jump, pausing half way in lacing up my ebony dress. Jack is no longer making any noise, but laying comfortably on his side, facing me. His eyes are still closed.
"Just going outside for a smoke," I explain. Passing over to the side of the bed, I press one last kiss to his lips for the night. "Go back to sleep."
Once his eyes are closed once more, and the sound of deep breathing fills my ears, I slip on my shoes and grab that same bag of tobacco. Quietly, I close the door behind me and climb out from the window and onto the roof. I have so many memories out here. Almost every night I would roll up one of these tiny brown cigarettes and smoke out here, deep thinking on my mind. I could have lit up down in the tavern, but Mercy hates the smell. Besides, I like the view.
The smoke hits my longues and although there is a short, uncomfortable sensation, it's soon replaced by a calmness that relaxes both mind and bone.
I think about Loyal and my family. I think of how was life was before I left England. I hated it. Primped and pretty, I followed orders and awaited wealthy, fancy men to ask for my hand in marriage. I learned to waltz and speak French. And I hated every moment of it.
I'm so deep into my own thoughts that I almost don't hear the loud crash from inside. Quickly putting out the cigarette with my right boot, I jump up and climb back through the same window, wondering what all the noise is about.
Something creeps out from the shadows of the corner, almost stabbing me viciously in the side. But I'm quick, and my boot darts out to kick the knife from the man's hand. In return, I'm backhanded, hard, in the face. It leaves the metallic taste of blood on my tongue.
It's not long until another man thrusts out, grabbing me roughly by the hair. He receives a hearty punch in the face from my experienced fist, not to mention a heavy nose bleed, but almost instantly lets me go, stepping back a foot or so from the blow.
With that, the attic door swings open, revealing a dressed and very armed Jack Sparrow with questioning eyes.
"We've got company," I explain as I block another hit.
Before I know it, there are others joining the battle, coming up the stairs and attacking. It's now that I notice what they're trying to do: instead of killing me, they're trying to keep me alive. And I know this because the men are grabbing at me, trying to hold me still. Not many have weapons, and those who do are mostly going for Jack.
"Fuck it," I hear someone curse, and in return I'm kicked hard from behind, sending my frame flying backwards and tumbling down the staircase. My head slams hard against one of the oaken steps, and the last thing I remember is the sound of my name in the dark, and the Mark of the Phoenix before my eyes.
This story is moving along pretty good! I'm so excited! By the way, I already have most of the next chapter written, so if you all review like crazy people, then I will have it up (hopefully) within the next couple of days. The more reviews sent, the faster I'll update.
P.S. I love you all.
LoLoMo: The bit about Andie's real name was in the first chapter, & no, I haven't revealed what it is yet. That will be in the next chapter.
CaptainMarySparrow: Thank you! Everything went great.
Terradaina: Andie has mentioned Loyal before, starting in the chapter "Fever", but no, he hasn't showed up in person yet. He does sound hot? Haha. How so?
Silver-Solitude: I'm so glad you're enjoying the story. Also, Andie's real name hasn't been mentioned yet, but I'm planning on revealing it in the next chapter.
Sereture: Yeah, I make those little typos all the time. If I remember, I'll go back and change them. And yes, I think Andie is falling, although slowly, for our favorite pirate. I mean, who wouldn't?
FunkyFlamingo: Sorry about the wait. I was really busy there for a while, but I'm back!
Sightlessmuse: Thank you! I'm glad you like!