Page 51 of The Worst of Them

So it shouldn’t have bothered Cecily as Jack began to wrap Susan’s hand. It shouldn’t have affected her at all as Jack made her laugh. He smiled. She blushed. They talked. Susan’s eye twitched every fifteen seconds.

Jack had looked at her like that too. Like he enjoyed her company even though it was just a ruse to get her to behave.

“You look jealous,” Morgyn cooed into Cecily’s ear. “Grind your teeth any harder and you won’t have any left.”

“I’m happy, actually,” Cecily replied coolly, “that someone can finally appreciate Susan. It must be hard for her to be noticed when Thea looks so remarkably like a horse and you’re so hungry for attention.” She narrowed her eyes. “Is that one of the effects of being a witch?”

Morgyn sucked in a long, loud breath—the only sign that she was bothered at all. “Someday, Cecily, you will be old and alone and no one will love you because you are impossible and unpleasant.”

Across the deck, Susan caught Cecily’s eye and, with a panicked glance at Morgyn, leaned in to kiss Jack’s cheek.

The left one. With the scar.

Her scar.

Cecily kept her face neutral. Nothing about Jack belonged to her—not that she wanted any part of him or his affections. Even if she did, there was no place for a pirate in her life after today.

Clasping Susan’s elbow, Jack helped her to her feet. She was now outrageously flustered, her cheeks a violent shade of pink. She gripped her wrist like it was the only thing keeping her upright as Jack wished her well. Thea appeared and draped herself over Jack’s shoulder, her horse teeth flashing as she thanked him profusely.

It was meant for Cecily. She knew it because Thea and Susan only did what Morgyn told them. It shouldn’t have annoyed her, and yet she desperately wanted to throw Morgyn over the rail and knock Thea’s teeth into place. Susan was already punished enough with her eye twitch—how could she stand it?—so Cecily had no true quarrel with her.

And there was Jack, smiling at them like they deserved it. He may have convinced his father to award Cecily the same respects as the rest of the crew, but he’d hurt her.

Hurt.

The feeling surprised her. While she expected loathing, hatred, and vengeance, a wound had appeared in her cold little heart.

Too late, Cecily realized she was frowning. By the time she smoothed her features into indifference, Morgyn was already chuckling.

“So you can feel something,” Morgyn mused. “Interesting. I didn’t think you had a heart in there. I’d assumed you cut it out with the wine bottle.”

Cecily’s breath hitched, her hand twitching toward her pocket.

Don’t take the bait, said Jack’s voice in her head. Flames flickered against green glass, and though she blinked away the image, she could still hear the fire.

Unsuitable, said Copson’s voice.

I know, Jack replied.

The wine bottle glittered. Her hands shone with blood.

“Are you okay, Ces?” Morgyn asked with false concern.

“Perfect.” She ached to hold her dagger if only to feel like she could breathe as memory tried to marry itself to her present.

Not real. Never real.

Morgyn released a low, rough laugh. “We both know you’re not perfect. You’re not even good enough.” Her lips were suddenly at Cecily’s ear, long fingers wrapping around her bicep. Cecily flinched at the violation, the memories of being forced into places she did not want to go, a nobleman laughing⁠—

And then Morgyn whispered, “Not even a pirate can want you.”

Cecily didn’t consciously reach for her dagger, but it was suddenly at Morgyn’s throat. Its weight in her hand cleared the haze of memory, leaving her brightly aware.

Despite the blade to her neck, Morgyn smiled.

This had been a battle, and Cecily hadn’t realized quickly enough to get ahead of it.

“No,” was all she managed to gasp before a large hand clamped down on her arm, and the knife was jerked from her grip.