Hope you like. I think this chapter was what had me at it for so long. It took quite some time to get it right :D
Anthracite77: Haha, je suis contente que tu aimes Hunter ;)
Xeres Malfoy: Leurs rôles seront révélés plus tard dans l'histoire. Je pense que tu auras un peu d'information sur leurs rôles dans ce chapitre! Merci!
Sickmonkey89: Hahaha glad you liked my stud ;) and yes, you and tall guys with tattoos :D Hehehe, glad you liked and here's a chapter for you! Hope there's enough Hunter in this for you!
Chapter 6: Anathema
Bo woke up to the startling sound of a human screaming. Not that on Rook you had pleasant awakenings, but this one was particularly loud and close. The brunette pirate looked to the wall on the opposite side of her shanty and frowned, uncovering her body from the sheets and slipping out of her cot. Her bare feet found the dusty wooden floorboards as a yawn rippled through her lungs. Another yell made her left brow twitch.
"What the fuck," she mumbled, leaning across her desk to grab her nine mil. She checked the magazine and tucked it in the waistband of her pajama shorts, all the while keeping an eye on the door. The woman wasn't easily scared, but when a stranger was screaming on the other side of her shanty, she could bring up many reasons to fear for her life.
She opened the door to the outside, revealing a dusky upcoming dawn, birds chirping lightly beyond the greenery of the jungle. The sun hadn't made its apparition yet, however the rays laid beyond the trees and threatened to clear up the skies. Bo, seemingly blind to the desperate human being beside her, stepped out of her door and onto the mushy dirt. The soil was cool from the night, making shivers race up on the woman's flesh. A sweet wind patted her hair and skin, and for a moment it was peaceful.
"Where is she!?"
Bo turned to face the hoarse voice. In the cage, Peter Adams was on his knees, hands gripping the bamboo. Dirt caked his face and hair, his nails grimy with the soil. The desperation written on his face didn't deter the smugness on the woman's features, but only proved to increase it. What bothered Bo the most was the hostages who believed that a simple act of bravery bought them a ticket out of their misery. Yet Bo had never seen a captive walk out of Rook without being tied to a leash leading to a boat, or in a garbage bag, chopped up in pieces.
"Where is she!?"
Peter Adams was a tough man; Bo could tell. To the naked eye, the young man was tenacious and wouldn't give up without a fight. Nonetheless, when he had been shot, his vigorous resilience had deterred to an extreme low, leading Bo to believe the man was nothing more than a good visual show.
"Where's who?" Bo grumbled, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Peter stirred in his cage, the heaviness in his breathing proof of his fear.
"My sister," he answered quite clearly. Bo quirked a brow and looked up at the dawn sky, biting her lip in thought.
"Who?" she repeated, not bothering with making eye contact.
"My sister!" Peter barked. "Kira Adams. Not tall, brown hair-"
"Oh yes," Bo interrupted, bringing a thoughtful index finger to her mouth. "Yes."
There was a moment of silence in which Bo played carelessly with Peter. He was an adamant little one; not afraid to defy authority. But he was nothing but a show, which could mean he was easy to break. "She was moved yesterday morning." Bo couldn't care less, turning on her heals and begging him to shut up for he had bothered her sleep.
"I know, but where!?" he called after her. Bo stopped in her tracks, groan caught midway in her throat. She sighed through her nose, wielding all her anger away for a split second.
"Somewhere else," she spat back.
"Please!" he continued to persist. Bo ignored him and walked back into her shanty. Sleep had completely left her groggy mind and was replaced with peaceful awareness. Peter's pleas turned into silent cries until he finally settled.
Bo wasn't one to pity. Her past in drug cartels and human rings had basically desensitized her to the cryings and pleadings of human beings. Despite the fact that Bo is part of the race of humans, she was never one to feel with an open heart for those who put themselves in shit. Not only would they annoy and disgust her, but Bo Childs could not support those who wanted, needed pity from others to survive. The pirate woman had lived long enough to understand that if you were in shit, you got yourself out of it. Using the help of others only put you in debt to them, and having debts was never a good thing. The ones to which you were indebted to could demand their pay anytime.
The brunette clothed herself in a simple white tank top, trousers a bit loose for her and track boots. She tied her hair in a braid, brushed her teeth and armed herself with a gun. During her toiletries, the sun had had time to rise and illuminate the island, not to mention cook it to high temperatures. Bo wandered out into the sun, careless of the crying and pleading going on in the cages beside her shanty. She didn't even spare a glance towards them.
Arriving in the compound, the pirate woman found herself walking towards Hunter's sleeping quarters. The building stood against the sun, the hot rays cooking the concrete. Hunter's place wasn't much. It was a one floor building with a bathroom, three beds, a drawer and that awful carpet of his. Bo always thought it was Chinese, but Hunter clarified her, stating it was Indian.
Knocking on the wooden door, the brunette turned to look at the pirates beginning to stir in the compound. Many were sleepy, groggy minds pushing them to sit by a crate and munch on some biscuits or leftover chicken. Many red tank tops milled around the door, exchanging duties and discussing quarters. If life on Rook wasn't filled with paperwork, screaming hostages and the occasional gunshots, life was boring. There wasn't much to do on an island populated with only natives, drug dealers and tigers. Bo wasn't the one to swim with a shark, or hunt down a deer, or take the four wheelers out in the sand pits. She was more the one to get her job done, and once it was; relax with a cold beer and nothing else. Maybe go out by the beach and endure the hot sun. Everything was better than spending time with those brainless, bloodthirsty, sex-deprived pirates. If nothing else, the brunette liked to spend her free time better with the mercenaries. After all, she once was one of them.
"What is it?" The grumble of an awoken Hunter brought Bo out of her thoughts. She looked up to find his impressive structure looming over her, his eyes half closed and his brown hair tousled by the pillow.
"Sorry to wake you," the brunette started formerly, "but I'm here to check on my hostage." Hunter groaned and quirked a brow. He was obviously pissed off about the early awakening.
He turned and that is when Bo noticed he was lacking a shirt. If he wasn't so much younger than her (or if she wasn't so much older than him), she would have surely pounced on him and did what she did to Vaas every night. Hunter wasn't a bad looking guy with fit muscles and perfect outlines. Not to mention the intriguing tattoos that snaked up his arms and around his shoulders. He was sexy in all the ways a woman wanted; mysterious, protective of his stuff, territorial, and had slight anger issues. Yet Bo was thirty years old, and little Hunter was no less than twenty four. One could agree the age difference was not a lot when you looked at it a sexual way, but to Bo, the difference was enough. Six years, compared to three with Vaas. At least, the brunette could live with herself after she spent a night with the pirate king.
"And this calls for you to wake me up at such hours, princess?" he yawned, walking to where his black tee was thrown on the floor. Bo shrugged and forgot to answer him. He put on his shirt, abdominal muscles stretching as he did. Bo grunted internally and searched for her property.
The said hostage was fast asleep on a bed, the covers covering half of her body. Her brown locks were in a mess around her pale face, covering the pillow in dark matter. In the crease of her elbow, a small red spot adorned the fragile flesh, which made Bo frown. "What the bloody hell is this?" she asked, making her way to the asleep captive and gripping her arm. Surprisingly, Kira didn't wake.
"I gave her a sedative," was the smug response of Hunter from the bathroom. Bo heard the water flowing from the shower and grunted, examining the wound on the girl's flesh.
"Why did you give her that?" she called. There was a silence in which Bo got very impatient.
"She wasn't behaving!" came the response of Hunter. Bo groaned, rolling her eyes. Why had she thought of putting this girl with him? Maybe because he was the only one in this shit hole that she trusted.
"Are you serious?" the girl mumbled to herself, shaking her head and sitting on the edge of Kira's bed.
It didn't take long for the pirate to get out of the shower and saunter in, hair wet and dripping down his neck. "Why did you put her with me anyways?" he asked, rummaging through his drawer for a tank top that he swiftly put on. Bo sighed, getting to her feet.
"You remember New York?" she asked carefully, biting her lip. Hunter froze midway between closing his drawer and turning to her. His jaw muscle twitched and his eyes shifted, hardened.
"New York?" he questioned back, voice hard as rock. Bo nodded. "You mean New York, New York?"
"They said that if we could find someone who could make it we-"
"Why her?" Hunter interrupted, brow twitched. He closed the drawer loudly, walking across the room to his table. Bo sighed like an angered mother. "Why not one of her friends? Or someone fit for the job?"
"No one will suspect her," Bo said calmly. It had been so long since they had talked about it that her mind had to be jogged.
"But she's weak and she's small," Hunter fought back, organizing some papers on the table. "She'll get caught."
"Not if we help her," Bo answered strongly.
"And get killed in the process?"
Bo groaned loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose with her index and thumb, closing her eyes. Hunter could be such a stubborn kid sometimes! "We have a job to do, Hunter," she said, voice rogue. Hunter sighed audibly.
"Yes, and it has to be done properly," he answered, shuffling the papers into the drawer under the table and slamming it shut. "We can't blow this whole thing over because some high school girl can't do the job."
"Oh for fucks sake, Hunter!" Bo exclaimed. "Are you that sexist? No one will ever suspect a girl like her to make it. She's perfect!"
Hunter groaned and looked back at Bo, his eyes dark and sinister. His lips were taunt, jaw clenched and hands in fists. "I disagree," he growled, the sound seeming to come from deep within his chest. "She'll get caught, she'll speak and we'll die."
"Stop being so bloody pessimist," Bo sighed. "It's risky I agree but-"
"Risky!?" Hunter shouted. "What the fuck is wrong with you Bo? We've made it this far without being caught. What is it now? Are you being impatient? Do you want to get this thing over so badly that you picked her?"
"No I-"
"What about one of her boy friends, the ones who look like amateur boxers?" he continued, mindless to Bo's interruptions. "They look quite fit for the job."
"That's the thing, Hunter!" Bo almost yelled. "They are highly suspected. But this little, "weak" girl won't be suspected to do the big step. Use your brain, Hunter."
"Use my brain?" he scoffed, offended. He marched by her, giving her a look that left her blood cold. "I think you should use yours, Bo." With that he walked right out the door and slammed it shut.
After a righteous breakfast that consisted of bread, bacon and milk, the pirate woman sauntered her way out of the compound and jumped into her jeep. Her back pack was filled with her notebook, plastic veils, a knife, scissors, and a small compatible blow torch; courtesy of the Doc.
Bo liked her little adventures in the jungle on days like these; sunny and cloudless. She liked to drive out far into the jungle, sketch down some plants, write down some notes and then make it down to the Doc's place for some updates on her drugs. She did exactly that, spending the majority of her day sitting in the grass with her notebook in her lap, pencil going at the white paper. She drew the lush plants and greenery of Rook so many times, but it never bored her.
After the morning turned to mid afternoon in a blink, the woman drove down to Doc's and wrote down more notes about the new sampling she had just given him. Most of his testings were done on rats or small rodents, so him and the brunette spent the rest of the afternoon examining them closely, watching for the lethal dosage. Her notebook was filled once more with astray pages, pictures and samples of leaves to try when she sauntered back to her jeep. When the woman looked up to the sky, it was vivid with dusk colors; orange, purple, blue and grey.
She drove back down to the compound, parking her jeep by the entrance and went for the bar.
As usual, with the hard working day behind them, the pirates had crowded the bar. Many were sitting on the stools, but most were standing and walking around, milling by the jukebox or sitting at the round tables. The bartender was busy, even had a couple of pirates doing the serving. Bo found the lounge unoccupied and sat on it, ordering a cold beer and sitting back. She took her notes out and went over them, checking all the reactions and dosage, the remarks Doc made and his conclusions.
Of all people, Bo really liked Doc. He was insane, it was obvious to the eye. However, he was a highly intelligent man with an eye for fauna and flora. He was under estimated, that was obvious, but he never wanted to prove otherwise. He kept to himself and never bathed in the horrors of the island. Bo liked him because he was quiet and intelligent; he was a secret to uncover. Many rumors circled around about how he came to Rook, but he had once told Bo everything, a late night at his diner table. After his two year old daughter, Agnes, tumbled from his tenth story apartment, he came to Rook. He started selling drugs and ended up on the black market. But despite what others would say regarding his drug consumption and implication, he was a good man.
"Bo!"
The brunette looked up from her notes to the bartender. "Yes?"
"Vaas is by the docks!" he yelled over the noise and conversations. "He sent for you!"
Bo grumbled, but stuffed her bag up with her notes and headed out, not before grabbing her well deserved beer.
She found the said pirate lord sitting by the docks, his legs hanging over the deck. He had a joint hanging loosely from his lips and a beer in his hand. Bo set her bag beside her and sat on the wood, legs dangling in the void. She sighed and looked out over the bay, the sun reflecting off the waves and creating sparkles in the water.
"Nice view, isn't, pera?" Vaas purred, his intoxication obvious. Bo nodded.
"Indeed."
"What did you do today?" he continued, taking a hit of his joint. He offered it to the woman, but she politely declined.
"I went to see Doc," she answered.
"Hmm, Doc," Vaas slurred, laughing. "I always thought the guy was insane. Did he tell you what happened to his hija?"
"Yes, Vaas, he did." Bo ignored his grumbled laughter and took a swing of her beer. She relished in the coolness it brought to her dry throat.
"Fell out of his fucking apartment," he huffed. Bo nodded apathetically.
"What about you?" Bo asked in return as to not let the pirate lord get on with insulting one of Bo's only friends on the island.
"I killed some people," he sighed, shrugging. "Fed some chica to the perros. Drove up to PC, then back for no fucking reason. I filmed two ransom videos. The same old, sugar," he said with a suggestive grin. He waggled his brows at her, leaning to the side as to give her cheek a slight kiss. Bo shivered.
Despite the fact that Bo accepted the pirate king in her bed every night, she hated him. Oh how she abhorred him. Just the smell of him; dirt, blood and sweat, made the enmity detectable on her tongue. Her loathing of him was what almost drew her to give him a place among her sheets. She hated the heaviness of him over her, or his hand gripping the roots of her hair, or the warmth, the boiling heat of his body. She despised his voice, so luscious and thick, so seducing and entrancing. She cursed his ability to loo her into this state where her mind was smoke and her body was ash. All he would do was whisper her name and she'd shiver, become literally undone under him. He was a master in every inch of her flesh, every nook of her body, every curve of her muscles. He even came to know her selfishness and her subtle culpability. And what she hated even more was that he had the ability to make her scream, make her beg for what he oh so promised to give her. And she loathed herself for giving in every night, for letting herself be seduced by the devil in person.
Yet she needed to seduce the devil, to lure him into her trap so he would be clueless when his possessions would run. She needed to do this. She had a job to do.
I think you guys'll like the next chapter ;)