Page 53 of The Worst of Them

Fiero obeyed. It was a simple order, and hope weaseled through Cecily, eager for the same treatment.

So close. She was so close to being done with piracy, so long as Copson didn’t flog her or kill her.

When Fiero and Morgyn were gone, Copson’s attention fell on the dagger.

“How’d you get Jack’s knife?” he asked Cecily.

“He gave it to me,” she said.

“I didn’t,” Jack said, speaking with blasé confidence that could only be taken for truth.

“I found it.” Her gut clenched with indignation as he forced her into the lie. He had said he would deny his involvement, though she’d half expected that to change after these past days.

He’s a liar, she reminded herself. He’s lied to me this whole time.

Copson’s stony eyes were heavy with displeasure. She met his gaze resolutely, even as it made her want to tremble. “Trouble seems to follow you, Miss Shoard.”

She forced an even breath. “I gave it no invitation to do so.”

“Trouble sometimes follows those who want it least and those best equipped to handle it. Your abilities are impressive, and you seem mindful of the laws governing my company, but you are a continued headache.”

Her stomach dropped. “I truly don’t wish to be.”

Copson nudged the knife, sending it spinning before he pinned her with a look. “I have important business in Tortuga, and I won’t be bothered with you or your trouble. If you become a problem or distract me from my purpose here, I’ll have Jack deal with you.”

Jack released a breath. Cecily gulped, thinking of the captain of the prison ship bound so tightly to the helm. Would Copson make his son kill her if she was caught? Torture her? When she tried to imagine it, she could only recall the feeling of him tucking her hair behind her ear.

Copson didn’t realize the extent to which Jack had already tormented her.

“Why not let me go?” she asked, trying to rein in her desperation. “Release me and I’ll leave.”

“That would be easier.” The captain braced his hands against the desk. “But even better is having a competent sword on my crew who owes me for my generosity.”

Everything in her recoiled at the cruelty, the ownership, the threat, but she remained where she stood. This couldn’t be her lot in life—meant to be a lady and forced into murder, prison, and piracy.

He turned to Jack. “You failed to uphold my order. Luckily no one was harmed, but I distrust her and the chaos that follows her, so you’ll mind her in Tortuga.”

Her jaw fell, so many curses and protests rising to her tongue that none of them made it out. Her freedom, her chance to run away—he had just made it infinitely harder.

But not impossible, she told herself. I can escape Jack.

Beside her, Jack started, “You said⁠—”

“I know,” Copson said. “I changed my mind.”

Jack went deathly quiet, his eyes cold. “I’m not a nanny.”

“Will you defy me, Jack?” The captain posed the question like a dare.

For a breath, the first mate was silent. His lips thinned, like he might object, like he might fight his father as their gazes held. But then he said, “No. I won’t.”

“Then it’s settled. Keep the girl close, lest she end up burning down all of Tortuga by some hand other than her own. If she escapes or manages to worm her way out of the articles, it’ll be on your head. And Greyson’s.” He looked at Cecily. “And your dear friend Hester’s.”

Horror washed through her, so wretched that it took everything in her not to fall to her knees. “You can’t need me that badly,” she breathed. “I’m not⁠—”

Jack grabbed her wrist, his fingers tight with warning. Her teeth clicked as she bit off her words, but she trembled in earnest now, only able to contain so much of herself.

There would be no running away.