A Pirate's Heart (St. John Series) (10 page)

“An earring? Why do you not wear one? The other pirates I’ve encountered had them. Why not you or the captain for that matter?”

“You have met many pirates?”

“Well, no. Just the ones who kidnapped me and the ones on this ship.”

“The ones who kidnapped you?!” he asked in surprise.

“Yes, I mentioned them before. Now about your earring?”

“No, I think you brought up a more interesting topic.”

She looked at him, and the expression in her eyes told him she wasn’t going to answer his question until he answered hers. He took an exasperated breath. “They’re easy to rip out. You don’t want one to get caught on the rigging or a sword. Hurts like hell and leaves a nasty scar.” He pointed to his left ear. She could see the scar running the length of his lobe, the bottom of the lobe had a small notch where the wound hadn’t heeled properly. “Now, your turn.”

“No,” she said as she laid her head back down on his chest.

He rolled her onto her back and looked into her eyes. “No? What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I never agreed to tell you about my past, now did I?”

He was beginning to get agitated, which didn’t take much in Max’s case. “Yeah, I think you did.”

“Did I say I would?”

“No, but—”

“There’s your answer.” She closed her eyes.

“I should have figured you’d be like every other woman I have ever met,” he snapped as he rolled over and lay on his back.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up quickly. Grabbing the quilt laying beside the bed she pulled it up to her breasts and turned to face him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He narrowed his eyes as he addressed her. “It means that
all
women are alike. They say one thing and do another.”

“Wh . . . what are you talking about?!” she asked with disbelief in her tone.

“I’ll tell you what I’m talking about,” he heatedly replied as he sat up. “Women, all women, tell lies, betray you. Here I thought you might be different, but they all turn out to be like
her
!”

“Why you . . . are you insinuating I’m like that horrid woman Juliana? I ought to—”

“No, my mother!”

A shocked expression crossed her face. How in the world did their conversation turn to this? She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths trying to control her temper. “Your mother?”

“Yes, all women are like that horrid bitch that gave birth to me. Lying, conniving—”

Before he could finish his insult, she pointed her long, dainty finger in his chest. “I don’t know
what
kind of woman your mother was, but I’m certainly
not
her.” She took a breath before she continued her rampage. She looked into his eyes, and for a brief second, she saw pain. What had his mother done to him to make him hate her—and women in general—so much?

“All right. You want to know my sordid past? Fine,” she snapped and told him her life story, every last detail. She told him of her parents, of their murders, of the horrible treatment received from the nuns. Her voice quivered, but she kept talking in great detail of the day she was kidnapped, sold, and of her escape. She returned to the day her parents were murdered. “I will never forget the image of that man who killed them—his evil amber-colored eyes and mousy brown hair and his navy blue uniform. I hope that man dies a horrid death.”

When she had finished, she stood up and walked to the chair where her shirt lay. She quickly pulled it on and tried to keep the tears from coming to her eyes. She turned and bumped into him. He pulled her to him and gently embraced her in his strong arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. She buried her head in his chest and clung to him. He stroked her hair as all her pain came pouring out.

As he listened to her tale, he couldn’t help but think of how her parents’ murderer sounded like Commodore McClain. But surely this was coincidence? What would be the odds that he would have killed her parents, too? He kept the thought to himself, not wanting to upset her more.

She held onto him as if her life depended on it. Her tears would not stop. She had held back so much pain for so long. Now here he was, allowing her to become vulnerable. His presence made her feel safe and secure. A thought came into her mind. Here he was consoling her, when it appeared his life had been just as bad, if not worse. That thought made her cry even harder.

When her tears ended, he tenderly lifted her face to him. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, picked her up and carried her to the bed. Laying her down on the bed, he crawled in beside her and pulled the quilts up over them both. He wrapped his muscular arms around her, wanting to protect her from the evil she had experienced.

He whispered in her ear, “I will never let anyone harm you, Kristina.” Peace and tranquility filled her as she clutched his arm, feeling safe and secure for the first time since her parents had been murdered.

Chapter Eleven

The voyage to St. Kitts went better than expected.
The Abyss
had come to the aid of another vessel. While assisting the other vessel, fate played a helpful hand. The ship that needed assistance was the same vessel that had commandeered the items from Emerald Shipping. After a brief battle,
The Abyss
defeated the thieves and reacquired the stolen merchandise. Once the merchandise was safely loaded onto
The Abyss
, they redirected their course back towards Nassau.

Kris was curious as to what had transpired between Max and his mother, but did not dare broach the subject with him. She had learned from experience, as well as the crew’s gossip, that Max had a horrible temper. His temper was easy to fuel, and he had lost control many times, even nearly killed men because of it. Little did she know she was about to experience such a display sooner than she thought.

She and Samuel were drenched in sweat from the heat in the galley. The breeze had died down earlier in the day, so no air was stirring in the kitchen even with all the small portals opened. Samuel had even managed to move one of the cannons back from its resting point to see if that would help, but it didn’t.

“I’ve got to get some air before I end up more roasted than the chickens I’m fixing to kill,” Kris told Samuel.

“I don’t think that would be a wise decision,” he said. “Some of the crew are new and I still don’t trust them. If they saw you, I don’t know what would happen.”

Kristina patted Samuel’s hand, touched by his need to protect her. She knew he was still in pain from the loss of his mother and was using her to fill that void. “I’ll keep my disguise on. I just have to get a little air, Samuel, before I die.”

He nodded his head. “I’ll keep watch over you. A little air would be good.”

As they exited the galley, a breeze drifted down the corridor. A sigh of relief came from Kristina as she lifted her head, allowing its coolness to flow around her neck. They approached the deck and she looked at Samuel.

“I’ll stay right over there,” she said as she pointed to an area close to where they were standing. It was out of the way of the others and the crew had no need to be where she was pointing.

Samuel nodded his head. “I need to go tell Smitty somethin’, but I’ll be right back.”

She walked to the area she mentioned. It was close to the railing beside the steps that led down to the forecastle, behind some crates and out of the view of most of the crew. She placed her hands on the railing and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of the light breeze, unaware of the man coming up behind her.

An evil sneer crossed the man’s face. He had been wanting to see how horribly disfigured the cook was. It galled him that the cook got his own private quarters while he had to sleep in the forecastle with the crew. No one looked down on Ronald Hensley or placed lowly cooks above him. Back in England he was well known. Even though he did not have a title, his betters respected him. If he hadn’t been accused of murder, he would have never left London in the first place. He walked quietly up to the cook and pulled the hat from the cook’s head.

Kristina was so engrossed in the feel of the cooling breeze that she had not heard the man approach. She gasped and turned quickly as she felt her hat leave her head. At first she thought the wind had caught it, until she spied the man behind her, the hat in his hand.

A malevolent sneer crossed the pudgy man’s jowls as he licked his overly large lips. “Well, well, looky here,” he commented as his dull gray eyes traveled the length of Kristina’s body.

“Can I please have my hat back?” Kristina asked sweetly, hoping this was not one of the new crewmembers Samuel did not trust.

“Sure,” the man replied, as his eyes traveled the length of her body again, “for a kiss.”

Kristina gave the pudgy little man a tight-lipped smirk as her eyes blasted a fulminating glare in his direction, knowing now that this man was one of the new crewmembers she had been warned about. “That’s alright. You keep it. You need to cover your ugliness more than I.”

“Why, you ungrateful little bitch!” the man growled. He started towards Kristina. Kris turned to dart away, but realized she had nowhere to go. She was cornered.

Before she knew what was happening, the nasty little man was on her. He pinned her to the railing and pawed at her. His cold hands were all over her. When she thought she had one blocked, it would reappear and go to another area on her body. She felt her shirt rip and her fear took over. Raising her left hand, she punched the foul man, breaking his nose. As the blood poured from his oversized nostrils, a triumphant look flashed across her face.

“You stupid slut! You will pay for your disrespect. No
one
strikes me. No one!” he declared coldly as he slapped her fiercely, sending her tumbling to the deck.

Kristina looked up in shock at the man. The taste of copper flooded her mouth as her upper lip bled from his fierce blow. She attempted to stand only to have the back of Ronald’s hand strike her again, knocking her back to the deck.

Samuel was walking back from speaking with Smitty when he saw what was transpiring. His eyes quickly scanned the deck and spied Max walking towards him. Samuel raced in Max’s direction. “He’s got her!” Samuel frantically yelled to Max as he pointed to Kristina’s location.

Max’s gaze followed Samuel’s pointing finger. Upon viewing Kristina’s situation, he saw  red. Never in all his life had he had such an all-consuming rage invade his soul. He crossed the deck in seconds. Before anyone could stop him, he had grabbed the pudgy man from Kristina and was beating him senseless. He stopped after several hits. The man’s body lay unconscious on the deck, his face mangled. He turned towards Kristina. Kneeling down beside her, he gently caressed her cheek. Noticing her ripped clothing, he stripped out of his shirt and wrapped it around her fragile body.

He looked over to Samuel. “Take her to my quarters.”

Samuel nodded. The tone of Max’s voice scared him. He wrapped his arm around Kristina’s waist as he led her away. Max looked back down at the disgusting little man who was beginning to wake up. Alex approached at that time.

“What’s going on?” Alex questioned looking at the beaten form of the crewmember.

Max looked at his friend. Alex took a step back at the soul-sucking dark fury that filled Max’s eyes. “Hear me now!” Max yelled, his voice booming from stem to stern. “The woman is
mine.
If anyone so much as looks her way, I will kill them.”

“Max?” Alex questioned cautiously.

“He was trying to have his way with Kris.”

Alex looked back down to the beaten man and nodded his head. “Do what you will.” Alex could tell from the look in Max’s eyes that the man’s fate was already set. Normally the crew voted on punishment for those who broke the rules set forth since pirate ships operated as a democracy. No discussion or debate from the crew was needed to decide the judgment of this man. The crew would not defy the quartermaster’s decision on this matter. It would be unanimous. Max’s temper kept the crew’s tongues quiet.

“Slim! Bring me the cat!” Max ordered.

Uveah and James pulled the man to his feet and escorted him to the large center mast. They bound Ronald with his chest pressing against the mast and cut his shirt from his body. Max walked over and took the cat o’ nine tails from Slim. Approaching the man, Max shook the whip to untangle the multiple leather straps, each with a knotted end sporting metal shards. He drew his arm back and forcefully snapped the whip across Ronald’s exposed flesh. The snap of the whip on the man’s back echoed over the deck. His screams were deafening, but that only intensified Max’s rage. He hit him again. There were no words to describe Max’s fury as he beat the man until there was no flesh left on the man’s torso.

When Max had finished, he approached the unconscious figure. Max grabbed the bucket of water beside the mast and tossed it over the man’s head. Ronald shook his head as consciousness returned to him and he became aware of what had transpired.

Max leaned over and heard a snide remark coming from Ronald. “That woman must be a good piece for you not to want to share her.”

At that comment, Max cut the man free from the mast. Ronald’s body hit the deck with a clamorous thud. Max grabbed the man by his hair and dragged him to the starboard railing.

“I hope the sharks don’t choke on your repulsive flesh,” he said to the man as he threw him overboard.

Max said nothing to the crew as he walked away. They jumped out of his path, afraid they would be the next victim of the quartermaster’s uncontrollable rage. The fear they were experiencing from the aura of the quartermaster drowned out the pleas of the man in the water.

As he entered the shadows of the corridor, he heard Smitty say, “Let that be a warnin’ ta all ya young pups. The capt’n takes none to kindly ta those who break the rules!”

Max stopped by a water barrel in the corridor and washed the blood from his knuckles. He splashed the cool, salty water on his face. As he raised his head up, a towel was thrown and hit him on the right side of his face. He turned to face the perpetrator.

Alex just stood looking at him. “Well?” he asked in an obnoxiously dry tone.

“Well what?” Max snapped back.

“I would like to know what that was all about. I understood the cat, but feeding him to the fish?”

Max just glared at his friend. Truth be told, he didn’t know why he did it; the man would have died from the beating Max had given him anyway. All Max knew was the fury that consumed his soul when he saw Ronald with his hands on Kristina. Each blow from the cat intensified his fury. He wanted that man to suffer. Then the newcomer had made that odious comment about Kris, and it sent Max over the edge. The turmoil over his actions was apparent in his eyes.

“He couldn’t be trusted to not do it again,” was Max’s response.

“I’m not questioning your actions. I will always stand behind your decisions as you do mine. I would just like to be forewarned of any life-ending punishments. This is still
my
ship,” Alex reminded his friend.

Max glared at Alex, but nodded his head. Alex gave him a pat on the back and left. Max turned and headed towards his quarters. When he opened the door, he saw Kristina sitting in the chair. Samuel was sitting on the floor in front of her.

“You can leave now, Samuel,” Max calmly told the boy. Samuel nodded his head, stood up and left without saying a word, still sensing the rage that had consumed Max.

When the door closed, Max walked over to Kristina and knelt down in front of her. She sat there staring blankly at the floor. He placed both of his hands on each side of her face and lifted her head. Placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, he asked, “Are you alright?”

She nodded slowly, still in shock. Even when she had been on that horrid slave ship, no one had ever tried to force themselves on her. “I . . . I . . . ”

Max wrapped his muscular arms around her tiny frame, rested his chin on her head and stroked her hair. “It’s okay. That man will never hurt you again. I swear.”

As he embraced her, the meaning of his words sunk in. “You killed him,” she softly said.

“Yes.”

“But why?”

Max looked down at the Spanish beauty, her damp hair clinging to her face. “Because he needed to die,” he informed her, as he gently stroked her reddened cheek with his thumb.

She should have been satisfied with that answer, but she wasn’t. She pressed the issue further. “Why?”

Max didn’t answer her. He could think of no words to describe why, just as he could not describe the feelings that coursed through his body when he saw that man’s hands on Kristina. He looked down into her frightened eyes and did the only thing he knew to calm her, to answer her questions; he gently kissed her slightly parted lips.

She was shocked by his unspoken response but did not fight it. The feel of his lips pressed against hers erased the unpleasant feelings left by the pudgy man’s fingers. But this kiss was different from the others. She could feel the tenderness and concern in his kiss. She could feel his emotions and worry. She yielded her body to his tender care.

Max kept his kiss tender, holding his stirring passion in check. She was slowly seducing him without even knowing it. Her taste was hypnotic. The trance that held him was broken by a faint knock on the door. Kristina pulled back and placed her hand on his chest as she breathlessly looked at him.

Max turned and opened the door; his stature reeked of agitation at being interrupted. Samuel was standing in the doorway, a worried look on his face. He still was not brave enough to look Max in the eye, but his concern for Kris gave him courage to face the menacing man.

“What?” Max growled at the boy.

Samuel stood his ground bravely and looked up at Max. “I was worried about Kris.”

“She’s fine,” Max replied as he attempted to close the door in the boy’s face.

Samuel ducked quickly under Max’s arm and entered the room. He saw Kris still sitting in the chair, apparently unharmed.

“I’m fine, Samuel,” she assured the concerned boy.

“Boy, how quickly do you want your backside tanned?” Max questioned annoyed, as he turned towards Samuel. “You deliberately entered my quarters without permission.”