“Hey!” I go sprawling face first onto the mossy ground.
Starkey chuckles behind me. “Your balance is atrocious, darling.”
“Shut up!” I scramble to my feet and wipe my sleeve across my forehead.
Nessie claps from her seat on the back porch. “Give it to him good, girl!” she cries.
“What she said.” Widow nods.
“Is the little mainlander going to hurt me?” Starkey has the nerve to turn his back on me and speak to Bill who’s sitting near the fire pit. “Am I going to lose my life to a darling girl?”
Bill shrugs.
I lunge for Starkey, my wooden sword aiming right for the center of his back.
He turns and easily deflects it.
“Ass,” I grumble and back up a few steps.
“I thought Widow taught you a thing or two.” He tsks. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Go easy, Starkey,” Widow shoots him a nasty look.
“Why should I? No one else will.” He lunges forward, his sword slashing perilously close to my face.
I drop low and smack my sword against his knee.
Widow jumps to her feet and yells as I fall back onto my ass again. “You got him!”
“That?” Starkey pushes his blond locks off his forehead. “That was nothing.”
“That would’ve been a gusher if her blade had a bite,” Bill intones.
Cecco, shirtless and with an amused smile beneath his mustache, sits in front of Bill and leans forward.
“Ready?” Bill asks.
“As I’ll ever be.” Cecco looks over his shoulder. “Make it beautiful. Something the ladies will love,si?”
“It’s a skull, Cec, I’m sure the ladies will swoon.” Bill shakes his head and grabs a long stick and a small bowl of black ink. When he starts whacking Cecco’s back, the Italian grunts but keeps still.
“You want one?” Starkey asks. “Maybe a snake between your breasts or?—”
“Starkey.” Widow’s tone bears a warning.
He glances at the house. “Fine. James ruins all my fun.” His gaze slides to Widow. “Except the fun you and I have together.”
“Don’t start.” She grabs her silver cutlass and stands. “You and me, Moira. Let’s go.”
I climb back to my feet and roll my shoulders. We’ve been at this for at least an hour, and even with a cool breeze soughing through the trees and along the mossy ground, I’m still soaked with sweat. Out of shape—but can you really be out of shape if you were neverinshape? Doesn’t matter. I bend my aching knees and wait for Widow to come at me.
She doesn’t wait, her attack furious as she comes at my left. I cross my blade over my body, holding it downward so that her blade glances off instead of slicing me in half.
“Good!” She backs up. “Now come get me.”
“Seriously?” I’ve been on defense this entire time.
“Seriously. You might actually have the upper hand in a fight?—”
