stupid Taff’d been. But he had his pride. Nelson didn’t admit to stealing the bottle in the first place, but wouldn’t say where he’d gotten it. And so,Captain Buckley had tied him to the deck for a daylong whippin’. Regular sadist, their captain was.
Thing was, now “Three Hands” had a score to settle. If he was gonna be punished for something he didn’t do, then he was going to do something like what he was punished for. And that’s what he was about now. Nelson slipped through the lower decks without a sound. That was extra difficult with his back hurting the way it was, but Nelson was strong. The crew was all topside. He knelt before the door and tried the knob. Locked, as he knew it would be. He slipped out the pin from his back pocket and slipped it in the keyhole.
A locked door had nothing on Jack “Three Hands” Nelson. He smiled as he felt the latch click over. The door eased open and Jack took one fast look behind him. Satisfied that he remained unseen, Nelson slipped inside the captain’s quarters and pulled the door shut. If the captain wanted to take something out of him, he’d take something out of the captain. He knew the ol’ bugger kept the best ’shine locked away for himself. Could smell it on his breath at dinner every night. Well, ol’ “Three Hands” would just help himself to a bit, and keep it hidden away beneath a loose board he’d found near Taffy’s billet. Rough justice, indeed, if ’twere found!
The captain’s cabin stank of fish and something else, something sweetly rotten. Jesus , Nelson thought. For a militant asshole, the captain lived like a slob.
Captain Buckley’s quarters weren’t huge, but the space was a damn sight better than the cluster of bunks that the men shared just down the walkway. On an old boat designed to move cargo, there was no place for fancy crew quarters. The captain and first mate got doors in front of the closets their bunks were housed in, and that was it.
Nelson waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Therewas a porthole on the other side of the room, but it was curtained over. Odd, to leave the room in darkness for the day. He stayed in a crouch and moved across the room. It hurt to be on all fours, but he was less likely to knock something over this way.
The smell was stronger as he approached the captain’s bunk—did the old sadist sleep with the damn fish, as well as net them? Nelson’s hand brushed up against something on the floor. He squinted in the dark but couldn’t make out what it was, though it felt cool and damp. He yanked his hand back. Maybe it was fish guts.
Something moved in the dark, and Nelson’s heart stopped. Someone was here! He leaned toward the bunk, trying to see…anything.
The shadow moved again, and the whites of two glimmering eyes reflected back at him in the dark. Nelson could just make out the body now. The wrists were tied with a rope knotted to the fore of the bed, and as he followed the outline of the shadowy form down, he could see that the feet were tied apart—one to each corner of the bunk. Satisfied that there was no danger from this quarter, the private leaned in to stare into the woman’s eyes. She made a whimper deep in her throat as he drew closer, but she didn’t speak.
“What’s your name, girl?” Jack whispered. Again she only grunted softly.
“You bastard,” Jack quietly cursed the captain as he saw the reason for her silence. “Stay quiet,” he warned, and reached his hand behind her head to release the gag.
He could see her a little better now as he pulled the restraint from her mouth. She stretched her jaw and ran a tongue over her lips to moisten them, and probably to take the taste of the gag away. Her eyes were wide and slanted just enough to look exotic. Mediterranean? Eastern? Hewasn’t sure. Her nose was thin and delicate, and her lips—now wetted—pouted thick and wide above a narrow chin. Jack ran a finger from her neck across the pit of her arm to
Thing was, now “Three Hands” had a score to settle. If he was gonna be punished for something he didn’t do, then he was going to do something like what he was punished for. And that’s what he was about now. Nelson slipped through the lower decks without a sound. That was extra difficult with his back hurting the way it was, but Nelson was strong. The crew was all topside. He knelt before the door and tried the knob. Locked, as he knew it would be. He slipped out the pin from his back pocket and slipped it in the keyhole.
A locked door had nothing on Jack “Three Hands” Nelson. He smiled as he felt the latch click over. The door eased open and Jack took one fast look behind him. Satisfied that he remained unseen, Nelson slipped inside the captain’s quarters and pulled the door shut. If the captain wanted to take something out of him, he’d take something out of the captain. He knew the ol’ bugger kept the best ’shine locked away for himself. Could smell it on his breath at dinner every night. Well, ol’ “Three Hands” would just help himself to a bit, and keep it hidden away beneath a loose board he’d found near Taffy’s billet. Rough justice, indeed, if ’twere found!
The captain’s cabin stank of fish and something else, something sweetly rotten. Jesus , Nelson thought. For a militant asshole, the captain lived like a slob.
Captain Buckley’s quarters weren’t huge, but the space was a damn sight better than the cluster of bunks that the men shared just down the walkway. On an old boat designed to move cargo, there was no place for fancy crew quarters. The captain and first mate got doors in front of the closets their bunks were housed in, and that was it.
Nelson waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Therewas a porthole on the other side of the room, but it was curtained over. Odd, to leave the room in darkness for the day. He stayed in a crouch and moved across the room. It hurt to be on all fours, but he was less likely to knock something over this way.
The smell was stronger as he approached the captain’s bunk—did the old sadist sleep with the damn fish, as well as net them? Nelson’s hand brushed up against something on the floor. He squinted in the dark but couldn’t make out what it was, though it felt cool and damp. He yanked his hand back. Maybe it was fish guts.
Something moved in the dark, and Nelson’s heart stopped. Someone was here! He leaned toward the bunk, trying to see…anything.
The shadow moved again, and the whites of two glimmering eyes reflected back at him in the dark. Nelson could just make out the body now. The wrists were tied with a rope knotted to the fore of the bed, and as he followed the outline of the shadowy form down, he could see that the feet were tied apart—one to each corner of the bunk. Satisfied that there was no danger from this quarter, the private leaned in to stare into the woman’s eyes. She made a whimper deep in her throat as he drew closer, but she didn’t speak.
“What’s your name, girl?” Jack whispered. Again she only grunted softly.
“You bastard,” Jack quietly cursed the captain as he saw the reason for her silence. “Stay quiet,” he warned, and reached his hand behind her head to release the gag.
He could see her a little better now as he pulled the restraint from her mouth. She stretched her jaw and ran a tongue over her lips to moisten them, and probably to take the taste of the gag away. Her eyes were wide and slanted just enough to look exotic. Mediterranean? Eastern? Hewasn’t sure. Her nose was thin and delicate, and her lips—now wetted—pouted thick and wide above a narrow chin. Jack ran a finger from her neck across the pit of her arm to
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