Page 139 of An Imperfect Scoundrel

Cedric threw the key at him, but as Mr. Evans reached for the small piece of metal, his fingers knocked the key away, and it bounced onto the floor, then slid under the bed, vanishing from sight.

“No!” Mr. Evans fell toward the bed, tears streaming down his face. “You have to help me, Captain.”

“I’m not your Captain. Our agreement was for the key, not for me to unlatch your cuff. You should consider your words the next time you make a bargain… if you have the chance.” As Cedric spoke, another round of cannon fire struck the hull, knocking him from his feet and further tilting the ship to the starboard side.

A low rumble followed, echoing through the vessel’s bowels, and he realized the significance of the vibration. His heart thrummed, pumping fear through his veins. If the boilers exploded before he jumped, he’d be destroyed with whatever—and whoever—remained aboard the ship.

Recovered from the cannon blasts, Mr. Evans squirmed his way toward the key, unaware of the approaching danger. Reaching back, he jerked on the chain, cursing at the cannonball that restricted his movement.

Turning away from Mr. Evans’ struggle, Cedric forced himself to stand.

Instead of climbing through the window, he backed up to the desk, lining up his body with the opening, then raced forward and dove, clasping his hands together as he flew through the space. Gulping down a large breath, he splashed into the water and swum deep, clawing his way toward the ocean floor.

A moment later, an explosion rippled across the ship, shooting flames and a wave of pressure across the ocean’s surface.

Lungs burning, Cedric pushed himself to swim farther from the ship, knowing that distance was the only thing that would protect him once the vessel began to sink, which was inevitable at this point. His head breaking the surface, he dragged in a ragged breath, spinning wildly as he searched for the ship. It burned, flames covering the hull in flickering waves of orange and red.

The Naval vessels must have realized the danger of lingering that close to his boat. They’d left off firing, and both were sailing away at full speed… in the opposite direction of Cedric.

However, they’d stationed sailors at the stern of both Naval ships, and those men were shooting any pirate who leapt off of Cedric’s vessel as it burned. Sending up a prayer for Mr. Hayward’s safety, Cedric turned his back on the blaze, his gaze sliding across the water.

A dark blob floated in the distance, and he assumed it was the longboat that held both Mrs. Parker and Alana. Sucking in another deep breath, he ducked back under the water, then aimed for the boat.

When his head broke the surface again, the longboat, now much closer, revealed its inhabitants were not women but actually soldiers. They pointed their rifles at Cedric. Raising his arms, Cedric kicked his feet to stay afloat, his head bobbing just above the water’s surface.

“Hostage or pirate?” the nearest man growled.

“Hostage,” Cedric replied, his gaze locking on the barrel. “I’m not sure what became of my companions. I was with two ladies.”

“Wallace picked up some women about fifteen minutes ago.” The man glanced at his companion.

“Did both ladies have red hair?” Cedric dropped his arms back to the water as the men lowered their weapons.

“Indeed, they did.”

“They made it!” Cedric’s heart swelled.

He couldn’t keep the grin from appearing on his face.

“One of the women was unconscious,” the second man said, a hitch of reluctance in his voice.

Both men leaned over, each one grasping Cedric’s arms, and pulled him into the longboat. He groaned, his body sliding over the side, and crumbled into a heap between two benches.

“What happened to you?” The first man gasped, his hand reaching toward the crimson-stained bandages wrapped around Cedric’s torso.

“I was shot, beaten, and stabbed by a pirate.” Cedric grimaced, shifting his position, and leaned his head back against the side of the longboat, closing his eyes.

“The same one?”

He nodded, too exhausted to speak.

“How did you escape?”

Cedric opened his eyes, finding the first man, who’d taken up the nearest oar and was rowing with his companion toward a third ship that appeared on the horizon.

They were never meant to survive this encounter. Mr. Evans had sentenced them all to death.

“I trapped him in the captain’s quarters and climbed out a window before the explosion,” Cedric replied, thinking it was most likely these men witnessed his jump from the stern of the ship.