Page 24 of Scourge of the Shores

The Stormy Night

The trade went without a hitch—except for the island traders, who eyed the pirates like they were wolves sniffing at the door. At the small trading post, Danna exchanged salted meat for hardtack, flour, and biscuits. She worked them well. Too well, Robert mused.

Every nod, every pause, every sharpened smile—she knew how to squeeze the last bit of worth out of a deal, and they never even realized they’d lost. He could watch her do it forever. And maybe that was the trouble.

The ship was loaded, but the sky churned like a beast waking. Heavy and fast-stacking clouds swallowed the last traces of blue in thick, dark waves. The wind sharpened, biting, warning the sailors.

“We best get goin’,” Ethan said, staring at the skies, and headed to the tiller.

“Mate, I ain’t sailin’ a sloop with a storm like that a’brewin’,” Otto said, jerking his head toward the dark monster approaching.

Danna glanced at Robert before studying the clouds. “We might outrun it, but it’d be close.”

Robert stayed silent, watching. He should have been testing her judgment, but he wasn’t. The right call was clear—dock, wait, live to sail another day. But she was the Captain, and he’d do as she said on her ship.

She chewed her lip as she judged the speed of the clouds. “I’ve got six souls. Better not chance ‘em all to Tophet,” she murmured. She addressed Ethan and Scotty. “Let’s try to find shelter for the night and hope the boat’s still a’floatin’ by tomorrow.”

“Aye, Captain,” they said in unison before disembarking with Otto and Thane behind them.

But Robert stayed on deck. He stood behind her as she sighed.

“What do ye want, Jaymes?” she said without turning around.

He walked up beside her and leaned on the gunwale.

“Ye woulda sailed?” she asked.

“No, not in a sloop, not with those clouds.”

He studied her as she studied him.

The words slipped out. “You’re a great Captain,” he said, quieter than before and much more sincere than planned. He should’ve added a smirk, a challenge—something to keep her on edge. But he didn’t. “You think ahead. You listen. You don’t let pride decide for you.”

“And that intimidates ye?” she asked, crossing her arms.

He shook his head with a slow grin. It made her all the more desirable.

For once, he didn’t try to push her. His gaze didn’t drop to her lips.

He met her soul in her eyes, but it wasn’t a challenge this time.

No battle, no test—just a moment he wasn’t sure he was meant to have, as if he was trying to reveal the truth of her heart.

Her fingers twitched, so slight, he almost missed it.

“Stop,” she snapped, turning away too fast with a hitch in her breath.

His gaze hit the deck. The question lingered in his mind: Was she resisting him, or was he just making her uncomfortable? If it was the latter, he wasn’t sure how to take that.

“At least, we get another night together,” he said with a grin.

“I’d rather rot in Tophet than sleep next to ye,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “Ouch,” he drawled. “And here I thought you might take pity on a poor, freezing pirate.”

“Ye thought wrong,” she said, looking past him.

“Why are you different, Danna?” The woman on the shore opened up to him. The connection was real, or so he thought.

“Different?”

“From our walk on the shore?”

“Me? I’m not different. It’s ye who’s different. Callin’ me a cheat.”

He laughed. “I had to do it,” he said, pushing off the gunwale, taking a few steps toward her. “It was the only way I’d gain passage on yer ship without riskin’ me neck.”

“Ye don’t think I’m a cheat?”

He shook his head.

“No, I trust you more than you trust me,” he said, and that was the first truth he hadn’t meant to say. The statement tasted strange on his tongue. He was a pirate, and trust wasn’t given freely.

It was then that he realized he’d lost the upper hand, not in their frivolous game of authority, but in the truth about how he felt about her. And he didn’t want it back. It was in her hands now, where it should be. He’d given her power over his heart.

“And maybe, well . . . that’s my mistake,” he admitted as he moved past her, letting his arm brush past her warmth. He peered down into her pretty blues.

“I’ll find out where the Captains sleep,” he whispered. “So you don’t have to rough it with the boys, my Queen.”

“I’m not yer queen,” she spat in a rush, but something rattled her words.

He leaned just close enough for his whispered breath to tingle her ear.

“Not yet.” His jaw clenched as he pulled away, as if the words had left a mark on him.

He shouldn’t have said that, but he wouldn’t take it back.

He turned and left her, determined to win her over.

He knew for sure, at least for him, it wasn’t a game anymore.

She spun on her heels. Her glare bore into the back of his head, but he didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to. He said what he said. Let her figure out what to do with it if she even cared.

* * *

The six sailors gathered at the port master’s guardhouse. Robert leaned against the frame, arms loose, watching. They were the only ship at the port. The others had left and tried to beat the storm. Fools, maybe. Or wise men—he supposed they'd find out by morning.

Danna leaned against the counter. “Surely, ye can spare a room or two for the lot of us,” she said and flashed the elderly man a winning grin. “We’ve been good to each other for a long time, Ben.”

Robert stood off to the side, watching her handle the uncompensated ask. The wind howled through the gaps in the guardhouse as the rain started tapping harder against its wooden frame. The storm was impatient, and they were all about to get soaked.

“Pirates ain’t welcome here, Danna, ye know it,” Ben muttered low, his gaze darting between her and Otto and Thane standing behind her.

Robert stepped forward, nudging Danna—not forceful, just enough to insert himself into the discussion. Robert’s smirk didn’t slip. “We ain’t pirates,” he said, and let the lie sit for a second. Then he continued, easy and unbothered, “Just lowly sailors, hit a storm?—”

“Save it, pirate,” Ben interjected.

“We ain’t even armed, mate,” Robert said, pulling his Captain’s coat open to show empty holsters.

“Ain’t armed now,” Ben retorted. “What’s to keep all of ye to return and take what ye want.”

Robert let his coat fall back into place. “Otto, Thane, ye promise to forget this place?”

“Aye.”

Robert shot a look at the portly man to see if it was good enough.

Ben scoffed and shifted on his feet. “Pirates lie.” He didn’t spit the words so much as drop them like a stone in water, waiting for the ripple.

Robert laughed easily, like Ben had just made an inside joke that only he and Danna would understand. He clapped a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head. “He sounds like you,” he said, but something else was in his voice. A little admiration. A little desire he hadn’t meant to let slip.

Her shoulders grew tight, and he dropped his hand at the ice in her stare.

“Look, Ben,” he said with a pointed inflection, returning his attention to the port master.

“Pirates don’t care about tradin’ islands.

We go after much bigger fish, if ye get me?

We just need a place to hunker down for the night, and then ye’ll never see or hear from us again. I swear on me father’s name.”

Ben ran a palm over his mouth as he debated. His eyes narrowed at Robert before they shifted to Danna.

“Fine,” Ben muttered. “There’s an empty barn. Captain sleeps up top.”

The nod to Danna was deliberate. A kindness. A way to separate her from the pirates and keep her safe.

Robert almost laughed.

The old fool didn’t even realize what he’d done.

He couldn’t just bed down in the hay like a common deckhand when not on her ship—not in front of his men. Not if he expected them to still call him Captain. So unless he wanted to break rank and really risk his standing, there was only one place for him tonight.

Up top. As a Captain. With her.

He glanced at Danna, wondering how much she’d fight him.

“Thank ye, Ben,” Robert said. He threw him a wink and double-tapped the counter with a fist as an unspoken gesture of thanks, in more ways than one. “Not all pirates lie.”

Danna scoffed and rolled her eyes at Robert as she swiped the barn keys from Ben’s hand.

“Thank ye, Ben,” she said with a nod.

* * *

Danna climbed up and disappeared near the rafters. The rain started pelting. Otto threw a blanket at Robert.

“Stay warm up there,” Otto said, nestling in the hay with a smirk.

Ethan and Scotty looked at each other before protesting.

“Port master said Captain sleeps up top,” Ethan said.

Robert replied, swinging a foot on the rung, “And I’m a Captain.”

“Ye’re a Captain, but not the Captain,” Scotty said, taking a step forward with wide eyes.

“I didn’t hear any differentiation,” Robert said. “Did ye?” He gestured to his men.

Thane answered, “Nope. That’s what the man said. Captain up top.”

Robert smirked at the two hounds. “Sleep tight, gents,” he said and ascended.

He heard their curses and peered down at them as they looked up. Their eyes were full of threats— Harm her, and ye’ll answer to us— but they had nothing to worry about.

He rose to the small ledge and admired Danna, leaning back, hands beneath her head, shirt untucked, before he cleared his throat.

“What in Tophet are ye doin’ here?” she snapped and jolted up.

“Captain sleeps topside,” he echoed. “That’s the rule, aye? Captain gets the loft. And we got two of those.”

“I’m the only Captain.”

“On yer ship, but we ain’t on yer ship,” he said. “And here, we’re both Captains and sleep topside.”

“Ye’re not sleeping next to me.”

“It ain’t up to me,” he said, sliding beside her.

“Get out," she said, her voice sharper than the rain on the roof.

"Ye heard the port master," Robert said, tilting his head, watching her closely. "Captain sleeps topside."

"I’m the Captain," she gritted again.