Page 112 of The Worst of Them

The officer threw out his arm to stop her before she could tear into his face.

“It’s me!” he hissed.

Dark brown eyes. Black hair. A handsome face and an air of ice and danger that abruptly turned to something else as her mind screeched to a halt.

“Hector?” she panted. She flinched as the door clanged shut, then rushed forward to grab Hein’s arm in a vise grip. “I didn’t do what they said I did.”

Her voice didn’t sound like her own, haggard and worn from screaming. Hein laid his hand over her wrist, and though his hold wasn’t crushing, it was tight enough to suggest that if she tried to fight him, he would fight back.

“The governor’s mansion burned down last night,” he whispered, his voice low so the guards wouldn’t hear.

She shook her head like her life depended on it, and right now it felt like it did. “It wasn’t us. A woman from my crew—Morgyn—she and another, they burned it down. We tried to stop it. I swear.”

Hein’s expression was grim. “They read you your crimes—” he began, but as she raised her voice to argue, he clapped his hand over her mouth.

She bit down on his palm, and he shoved her away with a curse.

Cecily spat his blood on the ground. “Don’t touch me.”

“Dammit, Cecily!” he hissed, cradling his hand. “I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re accusing me of things I didn’t do⁠—”

“Other people have accused you,” he ground out. “Others claim to have seen you at the governor’s house and stealing from a tavern⁠—”

Her voice rose. “I paid! I paid for all the rum!”

His hand slashed through the air, signaling for quiet. “Listen to me, Dios mio!” He stepped closer, and she only just kept herself from punching him in the neck. “They said you were being lewd in public and that you tried to cheat several people⁠—”

“You know I wouldn’t do any of that.”

He swore again. “Yes, I know. But it was your coat—bright red. No one wears anything like that here, and the constables said you claimed it was yours.”

“Morgyn stole it and framed me.” She fought to keep herself controlled even as everything in her screamed at her to grab Hein’s lapels and shove him into the wall. “She paraded around as me, from the governor’s house to wherever the hell she went.”

Irritation made way for an apology in Hein’s gaze. “I believe you,” he whispered. “I do, and I’ll help you however I can. But you’re the governor’s now, and I can’t⁠—”

She grabbed his coat, hauling herself to him. “I am no one’s,” she snarled. “Not yours, not his. I am Jack’s, and he will kill you and everyone here if I don’t do it first.” She was barely holding herself back, waiting for Hein to give her any reason at all as to why she shouldn’t.

“I said I’ll help,” he hissed, but there was fear in his eyes, and the sight of it calmed the edges of her roiling anger. “I’ll make you no promises other than this: I’ll do my best to find Jack. I swear to you I won’t rest until I find him.”

Her hoarse voice turned murderous. “We made it to a church, Hector.”

His eyes dipped to her hand where her ring shone in the low light. “Oh. Well,” he said after a breath of silence. “Mrs. Copson, I’ll do my best to find him quickly and see if we can free you with as little bloodshed as possible.”

She released him. “The Fortuna leaves at dawn.”

Hein set his hands over hers, squeezing lightly. “Give me until daybreak until you seek ways to murder my men.”

“I’ll make you no promises,” she growled, drifting behind him like a shadow as he crossed to the door. “Before dawn, Hector. And I’ll kill anyone who comes into this cell.”

He shut it between them. “I really am sorry for all this,” he muttered through the grate. As he made his way to the front of the jail, he called to the guards, “No one goes into her cell.”

The darkness grew heavier. Daybreak—she could give him until then. In the meantime, she crawled into the corner and wrapped her arms around her shaking body.

And she waited.

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