Open Waters (7 page)

Immediately Jane's calm and relaxed feeling disappeared and she tensed, inwardly cursing her own stupidity for not seeing it sooner. She had thought it odd that a Navy ship would have orders to board any and every ship, even if there was rumored to be a war coming. It was usually a few words exchanged in passing, and then the Navy would let the ship be on their way, unless something seemed off. And yes, the disappearance of the
Liberty
could have been discovered by now, but the nearest Navy port or ship was hundreds of miles away. There should not be one in this area, and that was why she had chosen this route. Of course, this was no war ship of the Royal Navy.

But before she could do anything more, forty men jumped over the railing behind their captain and pistols were leveled at her and her crew.

Her men, though, seemed to understand the change in situation and, despite her orders to not engage without her signal, began firing.

It was a bloody mess, and while they were equally numbered, the other men seemed more prepared for a fight, with the element of surprise on their side. Jane managed to down two of them before she found herself eye-to-eye with the muzzle of a pistol.

"Drop your weapons or the wench eats my shot," the scruffy man shouted to her remaining crew. Scuffles ceased, quickly followed by the damning sound of pistols and swords clattering on the deck as they were dropped. The man nodded to his men over her shoulder before once again focusing on her.

For a split second, Jane feared the man knew exactly who she was. But she soon threw that thought out the window. Of course he didn't. Very few outside her crew did. He probably just saw her as the woman she was, and she decided to play toward a man's instinct to protect. He probably didn't know just how lucky he had got with his choice in leverage.

"Captain Lock," Jane drawled, attempting to hide her growing apprehension—for a whole different, clearly-evident reason—behind a mask of despise and disinterest.

"Sorry, do I know you?" the scruffy man—Lock—asked, his tone mocking as his eyes roved over Jane's form hungrily.

"Not in the slightest, but I sure know you." And she was glad she did, but not so glad that he was the one that had boarded her ship. He had a rather nasty reputation.

She had come across him once at Port Demply a year ago while they were docked and gathering up supplies for their next raid. Well, she hadn't personally met him, but Worth had pointed him out to her. She had sent Worth to go meet with some of the other pirate captains, who had been discussing the newly-spreading rumors about the Navy amassing an armada to take out the pirates. And from what Worth had said, Jane had immediately disliked this man she had never met, and continued to do so, even now that she had.

"Glad to hear my reputation precedes me," Lock smirked, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement as his crew laughed behind him.

"Not particularly,
Captain
," Jane spat sarcastically.

Lock cocked an eyebrow at her. She could tell he was trying to remember, trying to spark a memory that would tell him how she knew him and he did not. She watched as he scowled, evidently coming up with nothing before his eyes swept toward Worth standing at gunpoint a few paces beside her, in search for answers. And it was there that he seemed to find them, for his eyes alit with recognition and immediately focused on her again.

"Well, well, it seems the rumors are true."

Jane just tilted her head up in answer, letting the man think whatever he wanted. But she understood his conclusion. Worth had no doubt had to claim who he was, and under whom he served, when he had met Captain Lock. But despise the rumors that surrounded her and the questions he had been asked, Jane had ordered him to not divulge anything.

"You know, I didn't believe it when I first heard," Lock stated, lowering his weapon as he laughed. Confidence oozed from him as he began to pace in front of Jane, the rest of his crew keeping their pistols at the ready, trained on her and her crew. Jane purposefully kept her eyes on him, not wanting to see the bodies that now littered the deck around her. "The infamous Captain Avery, a woman, captaining her own ship. Thought it… farfetched. Had to see it for myself."

A few seconds passed before he was standing before her once again. He took a step closer, much to Jane's displeasure and swept the muzzle of his pistol through her hair, brushing a lock of it behind her shoulder.

Jane batted the pistol aside, but it seemed Lock had anticipated the move. A rough, calloused hand clamped around her wrist and she was jerked forward, only to be stopped by the sweaty, rank body of Lock himself.

"And it is a sweet sight to behold," he purred, gazing at her predatorily as he wrapped one arm around her torso and comfortably settled the other on her shoulder, so the muzzle of his pistol brushed against her temple. His crew laughed behind him, but whether it was at his proclamation or her obvious displeasure, Jane didn't care.

She stood still, refusing to let Lock intimidate her, even as his hold on her wrist tightened painfully. Instead, she asked coldly, "What do you want?"

"Many things, my sweet," he cooed, leaning down to sniff at her hair and neck. She pulled away sharply, as far as she could. He retreated, but didn't release his hold on her.

"But for now, I'll start with the return of my goods that are currently stashed in your hold." The predatory glint in his eye was back.

Jane just chuckled. "We have nothing of yours."

"Oh, yes, you do. That ship you sank a few weeks ago? That was my merchant. Need to be prepared for this war I've been hearing so much about. And I do enjoy a good rouse, especially if it makes the Royal Navy look like fools." He gazed back toward his idled ship and the Navy flag still waving innocently at the top, before looking back down at Jane and flashing a grin. "But I'm sure you know that by now."

"Yes, I certainly do. And how cowardly you are, hiding behind a flag."

Jane watched as Lock grit his teeth. Obviously, he wasn't too fond of being called cowardly. But he reined back his cool and sneered at her. "Ah, but it works. Makes fools of you all, enemy and brethren alike."

"There is only one fool here, and it is not I."

"We shall see about that." Lock promised in a low whisper. Then he straightened, his voice louder so those surrounding them could overhear, "But I'm afraid I'll be needing recompense for the goods that are now rusting at the bottom of the ocean. Those twelve-pounders were hard to come by."

"Then you might as well learn to swim,
Captain
," Jane said matter-of-factly. "The ocean floor is a long way down."

Chuckles of laughter sounded from her captive crew, a few noises of scuffles, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh as her crew got out of hand and fought back. But they were soon subdued once more, and Lock narrowed his eyes at her. A brief flash of anger marred his face before his confident façade once again took up residence.

Before she could even blink, a stinging pain emanated from her cheek and her head was thrown to the side from the force of the blow. "Like I said," Jane said casually, straightening back up and staring back into Lock's eyes, "Cowardly. Slapping a fellow pirate instead of challenging them." She clicked her tongue a few times, shaking her head at his antics.

"I don't need to challenge you. I have already won."

"If that's what you believe."

This time it was the butt of the gun that made contact with the side of her head. The blow was hard, causing her knees to buckle slightly, but not enough to render her unconscious. But damn it, it sure hurt like hell.

She could hear shouts of insults and more scuffles behind her as her crew reacted to the abuse, but the ringing in her head made it all sound far away.

"Fuck you," Jane spat out as she straightened up once more, briefly letting her own anger get the best of her. She bit it back immediately, knowing that displaying such an emotion could break the hold she had on Lock. She was angering him: that much was evident. And anger caused mistakes. She just hoped hers didn't cost her before his cost him.

But his next words drove all those thoughts from her head in an instant.

"No, my dear, it is I that shall be doing the fucking."

Despite her calm exterior, Jane couldn't help the fear that spiked through her, her veins turning to ice. No, he couldn't possibly. That was the lowest of the low, the worst sort of degradation. But what else could he have meant? From the short time Jane had been in his presence, and from what she had heard about him, she knew exactly what he had in mind.

"You see," Lock continued, oblivious to the panic now running through Jane's mind, "I don't quite believe these so-called rumors that surround you. On the outside, yes, they appear to be true, but I'm afraid I'm going to need a little bit more… evidence to satisfy my growing curiosity."

There was no doubt now what he meant, but Jane was sure as hell not going to give up without a fight. What was left of her dignity and respect was at stake. Not to mention her virginity.

"You won't get anything from me."

 "We shall see about that," he said. He nodded to the men nearest to him, and before Jane could react, Lock had released her into the grasp of two burly men, who began to drag her toward her captain's quarters.

Toward the quarters where Cecily was currently hiding.

Jane could hear the sounds of her crew once more protesting and fighting their captors, guns going off and grunts of pain and shouts of anger. But that was all background noise to her, barely decipherable as horror shot through her anew. This was the very last thing Jane wanted right now. A year ago, it would have been all about her and her own, but now, she was more fearful for Cecily's safety than her own.

Immediately, she fell limp in her captors' hands, playing as though she had given up and forcing the two men holding her to adjust their grips. That's when she struck. With a few well-placed jabs and a twist of her body—she sent up a silent thank you to Thomas, wherever he resided, for those skills—she managed to step out of the two men's grasp, and pulled out the knife in her boot. She brandished it, showing the two men the business end as she placed herself between them and her quarters.

A hearty laugh rose above the sound of the continued fighting behind the two men. "What, may I ask, do you plan to do with that little thing, love?"

Lock.

"Why don't you come over here and find out," Jane beckoned, hoping the invitation was enough an incentive for him to do just that. She couldn't wait to stick him with her knife. Any object would suffice, really, as long as he wasn't breathing when she was done.

Lock tutted, clearly unimpressed with her bait. "You won't get far. Be dead before you can make a dent in our numbers."

"Rather dead than rotten," Jane spat out, intending to fight her way through as many as she could before they felled her. She would die, she had no doubt about that, but by god if she didn't plan to take as many of his men down with her as she could.

The sound of a door slamming back on wooden walls broke the tension of the stand-off. All eyes whipped around toward the captain's quarters, and Jane's heart sunk. No, no, no, not now, why couldn't she have just once done as she had been told?

So caught up in Cecily, Jane barely had time to notice the two men spring into action before they were on her. She was able to hold off against them for a few seconds nonetheless. But another hard blow to the back of her head and the knife was knocked from her hands all too soon. She stumbled slightly, righting herself with a wave of dizziness, but not before the men had once again restrained her.

She had been right: Cecily was really going to be the death of her.

"Bloody pieces of—!" Cecily bellowed, stalking out of the quarters fuming, skirts flying as she raged. "I have had it with ya wretched lot! This—oh!"

She broke off, seeming to notice the atmosphere and scene before her for the first time. The anger that had previously been bursting out of her before disappeared in an instant, replaced by confusion. A confusion that matched Jane's own. What on earth was Cecily doing? The woman clearly had a death wish to come bursting out here, unarmed and unprepared for what was occurring. Fear clamped around Jane's heart cold and restricting, her head ringing with more than just the effects of the blow.

"Stay where you are," Lock commanded, stalking forward. He had his pistol at the ready, aimed directly at Cecily's head. Seemed the man wasn't taking any more chances with the surprises on this ship. As he damn well should.

But Cecily didn't appear to be fearful or even shocked anymore. Instead, her eyes found Lock and it was like her whole persona had changed completely. Her eyes drank in his toned body and greasy hair like he was something she had been waiting for. Then she tilted her head slightly, a heated, sultry look washing over her face as she adjusted her body to play up her attributes the way Jane had seen her do before when trying to garner the attention of a potential client. The way she had done multiple times for Jane herself.

Jane's heart sank even further.

"Well, if ya say so, love," Cecily stated, giving Lock a wicked smile. She ignored Jane completely, not once glancing over at her. Was this a game? Was it a trick, a rouse? Jane wished the woman would give her a sign, anything to dispel her fears. But Cecily refused to take her eyes off Lock and dread and fear warred for dominance in Jane's heart.

"And who might you be, missy?" Lock asked, licking his lips as his eyes roamed unashamed up and down Cecily's scantily-clad body.

"Their fuckin' whore. Not tha' I ever got anythin' for it," she spat, glaring daggers at Jane. And Jane's heart broke. There was no hint of the love or humor that her eyes normally possessed. Only anger and disgust. The Cecily that Jane knew was gone and the whore they had originally thought her to be was all she was.

It had all been a lie.

Jane opened her mouth to call out, but hesitated, still hoping and praying that what she was seeing wasn't true, that she hadn't been played for a fool. An act, that's what it was. Cecily was just acting. She had to be.