was fruitless. He leaned down and pressed his face into the crook of my neck. The stench of rum on his hot breath mingled with the metallic scent of blood. My stomach threatened to retch. I screamed again. He panted heavily against my shivering skin.
The ship swayed gently, but enough that the candle rolled directly towards us. Without hesitating, I snatched the still-burning candle and shoved the flaming stick into the man’s eye. He reacted just as I hoped he would, reeling back and releasing his grip on me to protect his face. I punched his neck, making him choke for air. With all the strength I could muster, I rolled the man off me. He stumbled to his feet, ready to fight back.
I could not let that happen. I bent down quickly and grabbed the handle of the jug of rum with both hands, swinging it up with all my might as I stood. The heavy jug hit him directly under the chin, and he toppled onto the floor.
In the darkness I could barely see his figure moving on the floor of the brig. He was righting himself, preparing for battle. This would not end well. One of us would wind up dead. I wanted it to be him.
I crossed quickly to him and dropped the jug on top of his head before he could stand, never letting go if its handle. It was the best weapon I had. Screaming with fury, I swung it at the man again; this time it slammed into his shoulder. Scrambling clumsily on the floor, he reached into his boot and pulled something out.
A plane of cool silver glinted in the darkness. A dirk.
Preparing to crush him before he could use the dirk, I raised the jug high over my head with both hands, stretching as high as I could to get as much momentum as possible. A swift kick landed directly in my stomach and I doubled over. The ceramic jug slipped from my hands and shattered on the ground. Rum splashed my legs, its sick odor filling the night. The pirate pounced on me. I tried to dodge him, but the man grabbed my hair, yanking me back against him. I felt a cold blade against my throat.
“Yer a saucy little vixen,” he crooned. A spatter of blood showered me as he spoke.
I gagged at the reek of his breath.
He maneuvered me until I was cornered against the bars. With deliberate measure, he ran his tongue up the side of my face. I cried out quietly, tears streaming down my cheeks. He pressed his lips against mine in a perverse sort of kiss, stabbing at me with his blood-soaked tongue. His teeth found my bottom lip and bit down on it hard, drawing my own blood.
He pressed the point of the dirk into the hollow of my neck. The pain was so sharp I was sure he had pierced the skin. The tickling sensation of blood on dripping on my throat confirmed my fears.
“We do this right now. You fight me, you die.”
He yanked me to the ground by my hair and kicked me with all his might in my back. I writhed in pain. Laughing, he kicked me again, this time in the side of the head. My ears rang and flashes of red light exploded in the dark. I curled up defensively, unable to move, unable to cry out, my arms cradling my head. His hands unhinged his belt and I knew this was it. I couldn’t fight anymore, though I wished I could. If I could fight for just a bit longer, he would be forced to stab me, to kill me. Then this nightmare would finally be over.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A spark of blinding light filled the darkness and a deafening crack left my ears ringing.
The last kick to my head must have been causing hallucinations. An eerie silence engulfed me and I felt myself slipping deeply into the calm.
“Wrack!” a voice boomed. “Leave her alone!”
That voice was no hallucination. Someone was here to stop this.
Paying no heed to the demand, my attacker—Wrack—forced me from my protected ball and knelt on top of me, the dirk grazing my cheek. Between my sobs, I choked for air.
A new light appeared. Softer. More constant. It grew brighter, closer. I shifted my head slightly and through blurred vision I saw who pounded down the
The ship swayed gently, but enough that the candle rolled directly towards us. Without hesitating, I snatched the still-burning candle and shoved the flaming stick into the man’s eye. He reacted just as I hoped he would, reeling back and releasing his grip on me to protect his face. I punched his neck, making him choke for air. With all the strength I could muster, I rolled the man off me. He stumbled to his feet, ready to fight back.
I could not let that happen. I bent down quickly and grabbed the handle of the jug of rum with both hands, swinging it up with all my might as I stood. The heavy jug hit him directly under the chin, and he toppled onto the floor.
In the darkness I could barely see his figure moving on the floor of the brig. He was righting himself, preparing for battle. This would not end well. One of us would wind up dead. I wanted it to be him.
I crossed quickly to him and dropped the jug on top of his head before he could stand, never letting go if its handle. It was the best weapon I had. Screaming with fury, I swung it at the man again; this time it slammed into his shoulder. Scrambling clumsily on the floor, he reached into his boot and pulled something out.
A plane of cool silver glinted in the darkness. A dirk.
Preparing to crush him before he could use the dirk, I raised the jug high over my head with both hands, stretching as high as I could to get as much momentum as possible. A swift kick landed directly in my stomach and I doubled over. The ceramic jug slipped from my hands and shattered on the ground. Rum splashed my legs, its sick odor filling the night. The pirate pounced on me. I tried to dodge him, but the man grabbed my hair, yanking me back against him. I felt a cold blade against my throat.
“Yer a saucy little vixen,” he crooned. A spatter of blood showered me as he spoke.
I gagged at the reek of his breath.
He maneuvered me until I was cornered against the bars. With deliberate measure, he ran his tongue up the side of my face. I cried out quietly, tears streaming down my cheeks. He pressed his lips against mine in a perverse sort of kiss, stabbing at me with his blood-soaked tongue. His teeth found my bottom lip and bit down on it hard, drawing my own blood.
He pressed the point of the dirk into the hollow of my neck. The pain was so sharp I was sure he had pierced the skin. The tickling sensation of blood on dripping on my throat confirmed my fears.
“We do this right now. You fight me, you die.”
He yanked me to the ground by my hair and kicked me with all his might in my back. I writhed in pain. Laughing, he kicked me again, this time in the side of the head. My ears rang and flashes of red light exploded in the dark. I curled up defensively, unable to move, unable to cry out, my arms cradling my head. His hands unhinged his belt and I knew this was it. I couldn’t fight anymore, though I wished I could. If I could fight for just a bit longer, he would be forced to stab me, to kill me. Then this nightmare would finally be over.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A spark of blinding light filled the darkness and a deafening crack left my ears ringing.
The last kick to my head must have been causing hallucinations. An eerie silence engulfed me and I felt myself slipping deeply into the calm.
“Wrack!” a voice boomed. “Leave her alone!”
That voice was no hallucination. Someone was here to stop this.
Paying no heed to the demand, my attacker—Wrack—forced me from my protected ball and knelt on top of me, the dirk grazing my cheek. Between my sobs, I choked for air.
A new light appeared. Softer. More constant. It grew brighter, closer. I shifted my head slightly and through blurred vision I saw who pounded down the
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