In The Arms Of My Pirate

Revenge and Reunion

Octavia winced as the ship shuddered from another blow, and she tugged harder at the nail.

Her fingers, bloody and worked raw from scrabbling at the rusted nail, slipped, and she cut her palm. She hissed in pain, and ground her teeth.

She tore a piece of cloth from her shirt and wrapped it around the head of the nail, protruding slightly from the wood. She used the tails of the cloth for extra leverage and pulled hard.

Like a cork coming out of a bottle, the nail popped free of the wood.

For a moment, the pain in her back and hand was overwhelmed with a sense of joy and relief.

After two days, she'd finally gotten the nail loose.

She dropped to her knees beside the bars of the door and reached around to the lock, shoving the nail into the keyhole. The boom of muskets and cannons continued to fire above her.

She didn't know who was attacking the ship, but she didn't think she'd be lucky enough to survive a capture for the third time.

The hatch to the brig opened, the creaking sound lost in the rage of the battle above deck.

Octavia bit back a gasp. She tried to pull the nail out of the keyhole, but it was stuck. She swore under her breath and disappeared further into the darkness of her cell.

A dark shadow loomed over the gate, shoulders backlit by the faint moonlight that glittered through the porthole. Someone jiggled the nail.

The lock opened with a click.

The man stepped into her jail cell. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," his low voice laughed, his greasy tendrils swaying as he turned slowly.

It was one of Lafitte's pirates. He had tried to come down the night before, but she had frightened him off with a dead rat. It seems he had not been deterred for long.

The nail dropped to the straw-strewn floor. The man stepped closer.

Breathing hard, she looked between him and the nail. It was her only chance.

Octavia dove for the nail, the movement straining the wounds in her back. She snatched it up and rose to one knee, slashing at the pirate.

The nail embedded into his arm. He howled with pain and stumbled back against the wall.

She wasn't about to ask for permission. She lurched to her feet and stumbled out of the brig.

Octavia only made it three steps before the man lunged and grabbed her by her hair. She creamed in pain as he yanked her back, spinning her to face him.

His sour breath slapped her across the face as he laughed.

A pistol flashed, the explosion deafening in the tight confines of the ship. Octavia screamed and stumbled back against the wall.

The pirate stared at her for a long moment before his eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground.

Octavia stared at him in shock. Then she looked up at her rescuer. The air caught in her throat, tears welled in her eyes.

"Captain Hillington?" she whispered.

***

Charles stared in shock for only a moment before red rage gathered at the edges of his vision.

"Traitor!" he shouted.

He shoved William back. The man stumbled, catching himself with a heavy cane.

William lowered his brows. "Charles, it's me–"

Charles ignored him and swung again, driving the man back again. William blocked each blow easily with the grace of a man who had trained in swordsmanship for all his life, a testament to his wealth.