Page 16 of The Worst of Them

“Copu-what?”

Cecily pointed to the floor. “This is your room with your…husband?” She congratulated herself on maintaining a straight face as she said the word.

Hester brightened. “Yeah.”

There was an untethering in Cecily’s chest, like she had been moored to something, an idea—God, she’d been hoping. She wouldn’t have Hester’s company after all, not like she had on the Sparrow, but that was no matter. She’d find a place to sleep, to manage without good company, and Hester would be there on the fringes with her pirate.

It would be fine.

A moment later, Greyson walked in. When he saw Hester, his unsettling smile appeared, and so did the butcher girl’s. Cecily scooped up her discarded clothes and scurried from the room, back to the main deck.

Night had fallen, and lanterns bathed the deck in glowing light, along with large, flame-filled drums that beat back the early spring chill. Pirates brought out instruments and alcohol, and they had begun to play and revel as the women celebrated their freedom and the men celebrated the women.

Most wore coats or blankets over their shoulders to protect from the cold, but Cecily didn’t feel it—at least not in any way that bothered her. She hadn’t felt properly cold since the night she’d been arrested.

She moved to the nearest rail and flung her old garments into the dark. They were a pale flicker against the stars before the wind caught them and spirited them away. The only remnants of prison she’d carry with her were the ones left inside her, the ones she’d have to bleed to be rid of.

Nearby, an old man handed out strips of dried meat. Cecily grabbed one and tore into it as she headed for the shadows beneath the foremast at the ship’s bow, moving past everyone dancing and singing as though all was as well as it would ever be.

They were all so trusting and happy. Good for them.

Not a minute later, Jack crossed the deck toward her, his expression cold and unforgiving. He was still clad with tiny knives and wore a long, black coat that hung to his boots. Now that the cut on his cheek had stopped bleeding, she saw it was more of a tear and would likely leave a terrible scar.

She nearly smiled.

As Jack drew closer, he wryly announced, “I’ve come to ask you to dance.”

She leaned back against the mast as though to anchor herself to it. In another life, she might’ve been glad to dance with someone who had so fine a face. “Was the cut not warning enough?”

“I thought I’d get another to match.”

Picking at her nails, she replied, “Oh, well I can give you that without dancing.”

He stopped next to her and held out a piece of parchment. “These are the articles,” he said in the same flat tone. “Laws for the ship. Sign them.”

She spared him a glance. “And if I don’t?”

He laughed once. “You don’t have a choice. Agree to the laws or get off the ship.”

She was suddenly very aware of the black ocean stretching in all directions. Thinking of the single survivor they’d left in that small boat, she suppressed a shudder and pasted on a sweet grin. “I’m sure you’d love that.”

“I’d adore it.” His lips curled to match her mocking smile. “Everyone has to sign them, even you. We don’t offer free passage, and there’s no easy way out.”

Stupid boy. Joining these pirates was the easy way out.

She took the page and skimmed the numbered paragraphs listing expectations for conduct as well as punishments and payments for breaking them. As promised, there was an article specifically forbidding rape on pain of death, and the others spoke of fighting, mutiny, division of plunder, and all manner of issues. Captain Copson didn’t stand for contention among his crew, and disagreements were to be handled swiftly.

It was surprisingly well thought out.

“Do you need me to read them to you?” Jack asked.

Her gaze swept down the length of his body and all those beautiful hidden knives. “Can you actually read, or do you have a monkey to do it for you?”

Somehow he managed to make derision look lovely. “Charming, Cecily.”

Her ears perked at the sound of her name hissing off his tongue. She was determined not to like it and set her attention back on the articles.

When she read the next one, her heart lifted. “I’ll be paid?”