Paid to the Pirate by Una Rohr

Chapter 39

Charlotte, the past

At night, I slept in the galley with Miguel. Colt said it was the safest place for me, though I didn’t know why he cared. If he wanted me safe, he could simply let me go. Miguel slept in the galley to protect the food, and I slept with Miguel so that he could protect me.

“Only other option is the brig,” Colt had informed me.

I might as well have slept there, I was a prisoner either way. Whenever I did anything to displease Colt, he used it as an excuse to threaten to punish me in a way he did not punish the men aboard. It was always done under the guise of needing to prove that I wasn’t being shown any preferential treatment, to keep it fair. But any of the crew could vouch for the fact that I always pulled my weight and without complaint. The only area where I stepped even a toe out of line was with the captain himself.

I couldn’t help it. How could I obey the man who murdered my father? At night, while the others slept, I thought up ways to kill him. I imagined his screams. They were like food or air, sustaining me throughout the long months.

When my insubordination supposedly threatened his command, Colt swept me over his legs and attended my rear until he’d smacked the defiance out of me.

I supposed I could have avoided those punishments if I bent more readily to his orders, but I couldn’t stomach it. I couldn’t stop my outbursts, even when I knew I was giving Colt the excuse he wanted, giving him just cause.

Especially during his required reading sessions.

Confined to his cabin, Colt would plop me down upon the chair and sit beside me or stand above me, pushing me to learn to read from one of the books in his small library. I resented that I found the skill an asset I’d appreciate once I escaped. Over the months, as the letters began to form words and the words turned into sentences, I resented that it would forever be Colt who’d given me this ability. He especially tempted me with etiquette books and lessons on manners I hoped to someday apply elsewhere, away from life at sea.

Conks, Johnson, and Miguel became my friends and my protectors, each looking after me like a father or a brother. Playing games and drinking with them beneath the moonlight was one of my favorite things to do. (Besides plotting my escape, of course.)

I had my first breakthrough after a raid like any other, when Captain Colt’s luck turned into my own. I’d learned from my mistakes and this time, I was stealthier when eavesdropping on his nightly talk with Maurice.

“A prize like this will change the fates for all of us,” the captain whispered in a low voice, tinged with excitement. “Our way of life changing; I can feel it. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for a number of years. But that tsunami signaled the beginning of the end for our kind.”

I chanced a peek around the doorframe to see Colt held within his hands the largest ruby I’d seen in my life. I clamped my lips against my gasp.

Such a prize had been aboard the ship we attacked? No wonder her men had put up so much of a fight. We’d lost several of our crew in the process.

“It’s no mean feat to find a discreet buyer for the Crimson Eye,” Maurice cautioned, shaking his head. “If we break it up, we lose the value. It’s going to take some time to sell it.”

“Aye,” Colt agreed. “But once we do, we can split the shares and all of us start a new life. A comfortable one. We’ll keep it to us, for now. Conks, Johnson, you and me. No more.”

My heart fluttered. I wanted that for Conks and Johnson and Miguel -- a new life.

“Robert is already aware,” Maurice said. “And some of the men who were there when you found the trunk may suspect.”

Even from the doorway, I heard Colt’s frustrated sigh. Keeping a secret aboard the close quarters of a ship was never easy. With several men already suspecting, it might be nigh impossible.

“And Charlie,” Maurice said, off-handedly. A cold shock ran down my spine at the mention of my name. “She’s been listening in the doorway this entire time.”

My stomach sank as I heard the scrape of Colt’s chair being roughly pushed back. A second later, he loomed, grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and shoving me within the small room in which the men spoke.

“Have you not an honest bone in your body?” the captain growled.

“Have you not a merciful one?” I returned. “Let me go and you’ll never need to worry about my honesty again. Or lack thereof.”

“I will lash you within an inch of your life if you speak a word of this to the crew,” Colt threatened, ignoring my plea.

“Now, Colt,” Maurice cautioned as if to soothe the captain. But he didn’t wear an expression of calm. He looked as malicious as ever. More so. He drummed his fingers on the table with lazy exaggeration.

“Why don’t you tell the girl what you learned today?”

Colt released me, turning his ire onto Maurice instead. “Dammit, now’s not the time.”

Another chill ran down my spine. I looked back and forth between the two men. Colt rarely took that tone with Maurice, who acted like a father to the captain.

“Tell me what?” I asked.

Colt raked a rough hand through his already-tousled hair. After an elongated pause, he said, “I’ve been making inquiries. About your mother.” The captain ran his tongue along his lips, stalling in an atypical manner. “I found out what really happened to her. I’m sorry, Charlie. But your mother wasn’t killed by pirates. She killed herself. Shortly after you were born and leaving you alone with your father.”

I felt as if I’d absorbed a physical blow to my stomach. Something like a smile spread across my face, but even without looking I knew it was grotesque.

“Liar.”

Colt shook his head. “I’m sorry Charlie. You can ask Estelle the next time we dock. She doesn’t normally sell her secrets, but she took a liking to you and made some inquires on your behalf.”

I scrambled to look for excuses, refusals, or holes in Colt’s declaration. But it was the cruel look on Maurice’s face that made me believe it. It was as if he took pleasure in the knowledge.

My lip quivered and hot tears filled my eyes. Colt looked pitying, but I knew it was fake.

I fled before anyone could see me cry.

#

In my darker moments I might have admitted that my father wasn’t well-equipped to take care of me. But I’d always believed in my mother. How could she have left me alone?

Sometimes, in those dark nights at sea, I hated her. She was weak, like my father.

But I won’t be.

A plan began to form in my mind, involving the Crimson Eye.

#

A few weeks after I’d learned about my mother, Colt summoned me to his cabin. It was too late for a reading lesson.

“I have a gift for you,” he announced, a tinge of nerves touching his voice. The candlelight on his walls played upon his face, softening it.

A gift?

Slowly (Timidly, I wondered?) Colt produced a small box from his waistcoat.

I stepped back as if the thing could injure me.

“I want nothing you have to offer,” I replied. “Except my freedom or your death. Preferably, both.”

Colt’s nostrils flared. He held the box aloft. My refusal to take it spurred his anger and he opened it himself.

Curiosity got the better of me and I peeked down to see the box contained a pretty gold locket.

Raising the necklace, Colt declared, “I bought this for you in port. It’s engraved with your name on the back. See? Charlotte,” he said, turning it to show me. Colt approached, fumbling with the necklace clasp. “I want you to wear it.”

I snorted and stepped back again, this time hitting the wall. “And I want you to shove it up your arse but I have about the same odds of that happening as you do of putting that thing on me.”

“Why are you so obstinate, Charlie? It’s a gift. I wanted to do something to make you feel better about… what happened,” he said vaguely, and I knew he meant my mother.

I could tell I’d wounded Colt’s pride and that pleased me greatly. He had no right to speak of my father or my mother, let alone to purchase baubles in an attempt to soothe my pain.

“It’s a horrid, ugly thing, as horrid and ugly as you.” I smiled with venom, though neither statement was true. The necklace was stunning and Colt… I had to admit the cruel captain possessed an equally cruel beauty.

“You will put this necklace on right now,” Colt insisted, now thoroughly insulted. “If you fight me, I will strip your clothing first and then put it on. Are we clear?”

I huffed, knowing he meant it. When Colt came closer, I hung my head in defeat. Deft, surprisingly gentle fingers brushed my neck as he fastened the necklace. The gold oval hung nearly to my breasts.

When I next looked upon the captain, he bore a strange expression. Maybe he simply gazed upon the necklace with appreciation. But it felt as if he gazed upon me, with… affection? Attraction?

The emotion in his eyes frightened me enough that I ducked past the captain and fumbled at his table, grabbing the best weapon I could find -- a knife.

Was I overreacting? Or had he been wanting to… touch me?

Why was he making me wear a locket anyway?

“Don’t come near me,” I commanded, raising the sharp knife. “I’ll cut you!”

Perplexed and annoyed, Colt advanced.

He was in for a surprise if he thought I wouldn’t do it.

Colt raised one hand to grab me and I slashed it right across the palm.

Immediate panic set in. Stupid Charlotte. Would he wrest the knife from my hand and cut me in retaliation?

Blinking, Colt looked down at his hand. Wild eyes returned to my face and he charged. I had nowhere to go but scurried until my back was against the wall. Colt grabbed my wrist and squeezed, forcing me to drop the knife. He was so close our breath mingled as we both panted. I didn’t feel much better with the blade on the floor. Colt could kill me with his bare hands. One of which I’d just bloodied.

The captain seized my necklace and I flinched at the unexpected move. With his good hand, he thumbed the locket open. Transfixed in terror, I watched as Colt brought his other hand to the necklace and fisted it. Blood dripped from his cut into the open locket. Smearing it to the edges for good measure, he clasped the oval shut and let it fall back against my flesh, where some extra blood stained my skin.

“Let this serve as a reminder. You will wear this locket around your neck for the rest of your life. You will never take it off. If I see you without it, I will strip all your clothing and this necklace will be the only thing you’re allowed to wear.”

Colt’s thumb traced the golden locket, as if sealing in his words.

“You’ll wear the blood you drew. And if you ever try to draw my blood again, I will draw yours, and I’ll repay it tenfold.”

Colt backed away, but it was as if a piece of him remained. The gold oval fell heavy upon my chest, like a collar that would not be ignored.

#

The next week, my escape plan began to grow.

I had no way to obtain poisons aboard the ship, but I did have access to the food stores.

First, I needed to figure out where Colt hid the Crimson Eye. I was sure it was in his cabin, and he never left anyone alone in his quarters.

Except he had allowed me to sleep there. Once.

Butterflies flew wildly about my stomach as the idea took hold.

I needed Colt to punish me as he’d done the first time. It was only when he’d belted me that he kept me in his cabin through the night. If he did it again, I’d be able to feign sleep and search for the Crimson Eye while Colt slumbered.

God, I hated the belt. It was awful. But it was my only way out.

Summoning my courage one evening, I found Captain Colt dining with the crew and resolved to provoke him that night… before cold fear claimed my heart, solidly freezing both that organ and my legs, which now seemed barely able to move forward at the sight of Colt’s broad back alone.

I needed rum, perhaps, and lots of it.

I noticed my hands shook as I lifted the pitcher and poured myself a cup. Time moved at unnatural speeds as I downed it. I had no stomach for the meal before me; the scent of the chicken made me ill.

“Eat,” Colt ordered, making me jump. I looked over to find his dark eyes scrutinizing me. Had he noticed that while I drank, I’d neglected to temper the alcohol with any food?

My heart pounded as I sneered my reply.

“No.”

“I said eat,” Colt repeated, firmer this time.

“And I said no. Have you so much seaweed between your ears that you cannot hear? Perhaps that is why you cannot lead well, either. Too much flotsam and jetsam clogging your brain.”

Everyone around us fell silent at my insolence. Colt’s eyes darkened. But he held his temper.

“This is the last time I’m going to repeat myself, Charlie,” Colt warned. “You will eat. Now I’d choose your next words very carefully. I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight.”

The rum made me do what I did next.

“Well, it isn’t cock, yet I’m on a ship full of men. Perhaps next time we dock I can visit the taverns whilst the rest of the crew visit the brothels. That way we can all return to the ship more satisfied than when we left it.”

I’d needed to raise the stakes and somehow, I’d known that threat would rile Colt more than jabs at his ability to command. Rage flamed behind those dark eyes and my resolve nearly melted to nothingness. But before Colt could act, I stood, captivating the men at the table who all stared in rapt silence, watching the battle between the captain and me unfold.

“Perhaps I should go fuck myself, instead. Perhaps you should go fuck yourself.”

I grabbed the pitcher of rum.

“Or perhaps you should fuck right off this ship and die, like a murderer such as yourself deserves.”

I tossed the rum in his face.

The time between Colt slamming his hand on the table and grabbing me was seemingly non-existent. One second I was safe, the next, I was being dragged below deck by the man who frightened me most in the world. When we reached his cabin, Colt slammed the door behind us and loomed in front of it, a tower of menace blocking any escape.

“I can see your punishments aren’t making an impression on you,” he declared. “So we’ll remove the obstacles to learning. After all, you’ve made it very clear what a woman you are, haven’t you? No small, childish spanking will be effective.”

My heart skipped a beat. I’d asked for this, I reminded myself.

Yet my body’s natural response was to fight.

You’re just making it look real, I reasoned.

Colt lunged and I didn’t have time to escape before we both tumbled to the floor. He made quick work of untying my breeches despite my pummeling fists. When he tucked his fingers into the waist to yank them down, the only thing I could do was flip over to protect my modesty. But my act of protection required the use of my arms and made it easier for him to tug, as well as gave access to the preferred target. The next moment, my breeches were bunched around my knees, locking them, and Colt had a clear view of my rear. He yanked me up and tossed me over his ample lap while I shrieked. The stupid breeches nearly immobilized my legs and Colt’s strong hands immobilized my back.

Everything had happened so fast that I was surprised by the sudden stillness above me. I stilled in response. What was Colt doing? Staring?

I nearly jumped out of my skin when he laid a warm hand upon the lower half of my right globe.

It felt… confusing. My body ran hot and cold at once, making me sweat. His hand moved, stroking higher, and my heart raced upwards with it. Then Colt’s strong hand shifted, running downwards, but my pulse didn’t slide down along with it. Everything around the room faded into insignificance -- everything but Colt’s intrusive hand on my unwilling rear.

If I was unwilling, why didn’t I want him to move it?

I did. I did. I was just… scared into silence.

“Get your bloody hands off me,” I snarled, to confirm what I knew to be true, but my voice sounded heavy with need.

Or did it?

Colt’s hand immediately disappeared and a part of me twinged with regret that he didn’t fight it. Because I wanted to fight him… not for any other reason.

“I’m going to spank you,” Colt said, voice raising at the end.

I froze. Why was he almost asking, like a question? He’d never done so before. I was shocked into stillness as I lay over his strong thighs.

It’s a trick, I thought. Some game he’s playing.

Well then, I could play right back.

“Go ahead,” I challenged, softly. My voice cracked midway. Where had all the air in the room gone? “Do your worst.”

Had I played my cards right? Because Colt did spank me, but he didn’t do his worst, as I’d goaded. The spanking was long and hard, but he didn’t use his belt. He didn’t scold or admonish. No sound filled the cabin other than his smacks and my cries.

Or those other sounds I made. The ones that sounded like gasp-y little moans.

He’s onto me, I worried. Why else didn’t he punish me harder?

When it was over, Colt drew me up to sit in his lap again, like the first time. Except it was nothing like the first time. In fact, something was very different than the other times he’d spanked me. The air between us seemed to pulse. My stomach felt funny. Warm. The area between my legs grew hot. And my lips were curiously full. The more Colt’s eyes flicked down to them the more they tingled.

I had the unbelievable thought that Colt was going to… kiss me?

It was with sincerity that I spit in his face and slapped it as hard as I could.

Unbelievably, Colt didn’t toss me back over his legs. He simply took it, staring at me.

Was nothing I did this night going to earn me the belt?

Desperate, I began screaming. I jumped off Colt’s lap and, yanking up my breeches, threw what must have looked like the tantrum of the century.

“I hate you!” I shouted, knocking glasses, maps, and important documents from Colt’s desk.

He stood, calmly.

I kicked over chairs. I raged loudly enough for the men to hear, to force Colt’s hand. And still he didn’t threaten the belt.

I spied his small library and reached for a book. His favorite. That got his attention.

“Charlie, put that down,” Colt ordered, brow furrowed in confusion. “Do you want me to belt you?”

In response, I smiled. Opened the book. And tore out the pages, ruining it forever.

Colt was on me in an instant. Within what felt like two seconds I was back over his knee with arse bared to his view and the sound of his belt being unbuckled.

“You want a good spanking, I’ll oblige,” he declared. But his voice wasn’t full of anger, as I’d expected. He sounded… satisfied. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” The first lick of the belt made me scream, made me reconsider my entire plan. “But whatever it is, I’ll beat it out.”

Colt, a man of his word, tried his best. Had my tantrum been genuine, I’d have been a very repentant girl by the end of Colt’s lesson. My face was soaked with tears. I wouldn’t sit down for a week.

Limp and sobbing by the time Colt stopped the awful strapping, I had no fight left in my body nor room in my heart for anything but two feelings. One was the desperation to stay awake long enough to find the Crimson Eye while Colt slept. The other was a curious and nagging guilt that I’d destroyed Colt’s favorite book.

The captain summoned Conks to retrieve the same salve he’d given me the first time he belted me, and I was allowed to stay in Colt’s bed once more. This time, the captain climbed in beside me. But he did not touch me -- not in that manner. He seemed as drained as I was and promptly fell asleep after one coating of the ointment on my punished rear.

When I heard Colt’s even breathing, I rose from the bed, wincing.

It took the entire night to find the Crimson Eye, hidden beneath one of the floorboards in Colt’s cabin.

Part one of my plan was complete. I was closer to freedom than I’d ever been.

So why, when I looked at my sleeping captor, did it feel like I’d just taken a giant leap back?