Saved By The Pirate (Book One)

16. Conversations

Over the past three days, it pretty much stayed the same, meaning I stayed in bed. I argued with Christopher about this, but he insisted that I stayed or else, and since these bloody pirates neglected to tell me what 'or else' meant, I took it upon myself to ignore them and decided to escape.

Because, why not?

Of course, with escape came consequences being Christopher. Yes, my dear superior just had to have the pleasure of making my life even more of a hell hole.

You see, he took the meaning 'sinking into the shadows' very seriously because that's where the man always turned up - in the bloody, dark shadows.

"What the bloody hell, woman! Stay put will ye!" He yelled at me one night. With the faint light of the lantern he was holding, I saw his figure. He was leaning against a wall in the corridor that was, of course, in the shadows. Just where he liked to be.

And to think I was so close to freedom, this idiot, of course, had to be in the way. Thank you, Captain Bummer!

He startled me at first, but after realizing who it was (and groaning), my fear sank away. "You expect me to stay in a room all day and night! I'm a person! I have to have sunlight, air, room to move around!" I exclaimed.

"I expect you to follow my orders! Just like every man on this bloody vessel! You are to do what I say because I, the captain, ordered it! But clearly, I haven't made myself clear the last fifteen times."

"Oh, no, you made yourself clear; I just don't care," I said. "So sorry, sir, but I'm going out there, and there is nothing you can do about it!"

A devilish smirk rose upon his stupid godlike face. "No need to say sorry because you're not going." I rolled my eyes and walked past him, only to have my arm grabbed. "Wrong way, doll." And with a flash, I was over that damn pirate's shoulder yet again.

"No, no, no, put me down! I am not going back to that room!" I screamed, kicking, probably waking everyone up, but I didn't care. They could all go to hell.

But then again, there I was.

As expected, he chuckled. "Isn't this fun? I'm having fun; how about you, darling?"

I sighed. Not in my book, it's not.

***

The day had come - the day Skip would be behind bars.

When I woke the next morning, the air seemed fresher than it usually was. It had this aroma about it that gave me that little tiny spark of exhilaration. And I loved every breath of it.

By then, my leg had, for the most part, scabbed over, and so I didn't need the bandage anymore. Of course, it did leave a nasty scar that would stay there for the rest of my life. And let me say, not precisely the best souvenir to have.

Either way, no more white wrapping!

"Your breakfast, milady," Christopher said, walking in with a plate he was trying to balance.

"What is it this time?" I said with an eye roll, "twenty-year-old biscuits dipped in seawater?"

He placed the plate in my lap and crossed his arms. "That was one time, and don't bite the hand that feeds you."

"It sure would taste a whole lot better than what you've been feeding me."

"My cooking isn't that bad." I rose a brow, and he sighed. "Alright, fine, I can't cook. Excuse me."

"Never, now where is Davis, you can't cook to save a life, not even yours."

"Ouch," he said, rolling his eyes. "Davis is onshore with his wife and children, so that means I'm left to prepare the meals."

A family? I never thought the pot-bellied man I met in the gallery would have a family, and I most certainly didn't expect Christopher to be in charge of the cooking in his absence.

Not in a billion, trillion years.

"You couldn't let any of the other men handle the cooking?" I asked.

"And risk being poisoned? Yeah, I don't think so." I was surprised he thought about this at all. Even I wouldn't think of that, and it amazed me a pirate thought about that, given, he proved himself smarter than he looked.

"Whatever, your cooking still sucks."

"It sucks yet you still eat it, please do explain."

"I eat or starve, and I need the strength to take down the big, bad pirate, don't I? Besides, maybe I can get lucky and choke on your terrible food. At least in death, I won't have to see your face again."

The problem - I can't see that beautiful, good-looking face of his.

"I think you forgot, darling," he said with a smirk, "there is a reason I'm the captain. As for dying," he chuckled, "Darling, you can't get rid of me that easily. Oh no, I intend to have more fun with you before I let you go."

I gulped. Ignore it, Anne. He is just scaring you.

"Before you get rid of me? Topher, do you mean before I get rid of you?" Take that, Topher. I smiled. "Oh, Topher, it takes two to play a game. So watch your back."

Oh, how he smiled. He smiled like he's seen the depths of hell and lived through it.

"I knew there was a reason why I haven't tossed you into the ocean yet. You are far more fun than I imagined."

"Yeah?"

He lifted my chin with a single finger. His touch was cold. "Let me tell you something, darling," he purred, making me shiver. "There is no escaping from me."

***

"Ah, Fish?" Fish glanced in my direction. He was sitting on a barrel, sharpening his sword, but when I approached, he looked up.

"Aye?"

"Any chance you know where the captain is, maybe?" It was out of pure luck that Christopher let me roam about the ship. And using the opportunity to my advantage, I ran up the deck to be in my much-missed sun.

Not being in the sun made me sick. Not as much as being around Christopher, but ill enough to make me sunbathe for a good hour or so.

But in those happy hours, I managed to lose my devilish captain. And I know what you're thinking, 'but isn't that what you wanted? To get away from the one person that turned your life into a living hell?' Well, let me assure you, in all ways, that's what I wanted. But that bloody son of a sea wench was right.

I do need him. He's the only one that I can be sure to give me any protection around that ship of his.

Fish scratched his chin. "'E's wit' Skip, lass. Ye already know what 'e's doing, don't ye?"

So early? And to think the man would make a public announcement about the whole thing. How very unlike him.

I thanked Fish and headed to the place I knew Christopher could only be: below deck in the supply room.

Before walking down the stairs, I thought about what they were doing and why Christopher hadn't come out yet. It couldn't take that long to put a man behind bars, could it?

No, that's precisely why I had to find out what was happening. So, my decision made, I crept down the stair very, very slowly, and when I was near to the bottom, I heard an interesting conversation arousing.

And it was all about me.