Page 35 of Bloody Black

Why are you worried about what he feels ?I chide myself. Worry about your crew. Worry about the ship. Worry about Soren and Venka and William.

“What?” I demand finally, unable to stand it.

“You went to a brothel. With Teach.”

I let out a short laugh. “You’ve seen me kill a man, yet you’re bothered because I went to a pleasure house?”

I have no idea why he’s acting like this. Surely he’s been to such places before; they are as common as fleas on a dog. He’s likely visited them frequently, hopping from island to island, bed to bed... A pang of jealousy stabs into my heart.

I’m sure he’s done his fair share of fucking. Unlike me.

He probably has a type. Blonde. Dainty. Or redheads with hourglass figures and a dowry.

Maybe he appreciates a woman whose most valuable attribute is that she is on her knees.

Or he enjoys spending a quick ten minutes, moving from port to port like every other sailor I’ve met.

Never bothering to know their names. I shove the thoughts aside, but they have me in a tight grip.

Not that it matters. I can’t be with him.

Queasy, I stare at the man tied to the mast.

Xandretta’s hand on my shoulder makes me jump. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Heart racing, feeling like I’m going to throw up, I wander over to the railing.

Teach, obviously worried, approaches. “What did he say to you?”

You went to a brothel. With Teach.

“Nothing.” Avoiding his gaze, I look over the water. I can’t quite figure out what is wrong with me. I feel unsettled, raw. Strange. Does Robb think that Teach and I went there to… surely not.

The sea is a dark, iron gray. Waves slap against the hull, white caps clapping against the wood as we plough forward. The change matches my mood, although I’m not sure why. I know my way around these coasts, and so does my crew.

Teach rests his elbows against the rail next to me. “There won’t be stars to steer by.”

“We don’t need light to find our way.”

He shrugs. “If you’re not feeling well, we should stay at anchor. Wait a day. There are six and seven-foot waves in the harbor—”

“Must everyone defy me or doubt me?” My voice is too loud. Shoulders too tense. “I’ve spent the day locked inside Sinner’s Rest. I need to feel the wind on my face—” to my horror, my voice wavers. Just the smallest hint that things are not as they seem.

And my crew can read me like a book. Teach starts to touch my shoulder, then thinks better of it. “Of course, we’ll go. If you would rather.”

“Aye, sir.” Xandretta’s expression is unreadable as always. “We will leave right away.”

I glance over at Robb, still staring at Teach and me. “I’ll just go below deck then. Make sure everything is tied down and stowed appropriately.”

The belly of the ship is a labyrinth, an entire city under decks, a world of eating and sleeping.

Cast iron chamber pots. I stride through corridors, shouting orders, and around me the ship lists, rocked by the gigantic waves.

Everything breakable must be tied down; stowed away, where it won’t roll around.

It takes quite a while to check every room, to secure every cabinet, bottle, and crate.

So by the time I shove open the door to the storeroom, I’m mentally lost in my checklist, thinking about securing cans and fresh water.

The pair of naked bodies inside is so unexpected that a shrill scream tears from me before I even realize who I’m looking at.

He leaps away from her, clutching his pants with one hand. His bare ass is fish-belly pale, and his hair stands on end like she’s been combing her fingers through it.

“What the hell?” I stumble backward, the door handle slipping from my sweaty palm.

My brain short-circuits, overwhelmed by flesh and the sound of breathing.

A single curl of hair stuck to her collarbone.

Her dress is wrinkled and twisted, yanked down just far enough that her breasts are exposed, freckled and flushed with exertion.

Light brown nipples hanging out for the entire ship to see.

Or, I suppose, just me and him. Since it’s only us three .

“We didn’t want you to find out like this,” Teach mumbles, hopping on one foot, pulling on his pants. Teetering like he might fall over.

We? My mouth hangs open. Then snaps closed as Holly puts her back to me.

“Excuse me.” I step backward, back into the hall, and jerk the door closed.

It’s about two minutes until Holly emerges, her dress in place, her hair hastily braided. For the life of me, I cannot figure out what to say.

“We’ve been together a while. You never noticed.”

“Isn’t it a bit inappropriate? He’s younger than you.”

“He’s 28. And I’m 34. It’s hardly shocking that we might be attracted to one another.”

“His wife died.” My voice rings in disbelief.

“And neither of us would be sane if we hadn’t had each other to get through this.

” She touches my arm. Reassuring. “Yes, I was raped. Held against my will. But everything good in my life can’t be in the past. I can’t continue to drag all that pain around with me.

When can I be happy again? Have sex again?

How many years do I have to be miserable to prove it was meaningful? ”

She’s going to start crying, I can tell. I hate when she cries. Her and Mercy both.

“Holly…”

She swipes at her face. “I’m ready. He’s ready. Can’t you be glad for us?”

Teach opens the door. He’s dressed now too, and she puts her arm around his waist. How much I envy that small movement, that ease they have. It’s probably only possible because they began as friends.

“We don’t want to upset you, but just because you haven’t moved on doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.”

Just because you haven’t moved on.

“What do you mean, I haven’t moved on? I have.”

“You talk about William every day.”

“Because I’m going to murder him. And murder requires careful planning.”

“No one has touched you since him.”

Them. Plural. He and his men. But I certainly don’t want to think about that, so I say, “I’ve been busy.”

“Yes. Becoming a legendary pirate.”

“I don’t have time for men’s games.” I am perfectly capable.

I could kiss someone. I could fuck Robb if I wanted to.

I just don’t feel like it. He’s too handsome, too annoying, too charming.

My green-eyed enemy upstairs flirts with me at every opportunity.

His interest has been clear from the moment we met. I could have him, but I don’t want him.

The wind howls through the corridor. The ship slants left, almost knocking us off our feet.

“We don’t have time for this,” I mutter. “There’s a storm overhead.”

Teach gives me an apologetic smile as Holly drags him away, down the corridor, toward the stairs, toward the deck.

I scowl at her retreating back. “This conversation isn’t over!” I shout after her, and Holly, Holly, shoots me the middle finger over one shoulder .

I wait until I’m alone before pressing my palms against the wall, bracing myself against the tilt of the ship.

She’s wrong. “I have moved on,” I insist, as I carry on securing items as the sea lists.

But inside, my mind whispers. You can’t even shake Robb’s hand. You can’t bear for a man to be near. All because of William. He is the rot in your bones, the ghost in your bed. As long as he’s still there, you’re still his.

Still his.

Still under his thumb, no matter how far apart we may be. He is a disease, infecting my body, and I have to cut him out.

Scowling, I begin washing dishes, dunking the rag in a button of cold seawater and furiously scrubbing.

On paper, William is still my husband. I’ve killed his men, burned his ships, plotted his death a thousand times.

But I haven’t moved on; I haven’t even attempted to. I’ve never let another man touch me.

Is that fear? Or is Holly right, and it is something so much worse… loyalty?