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Of course he’d been the last man off Bockton’s ship. He always was. First man on, last man off. Des sheathed his sword, his low voice rising above the lapping of the sea on the side of the ship. “Another day, men. Another day and she’ll be ours.”
A direct order from Des for the crew to get on with the day. To admit defeat, for now, and get to setting the ship and the injured men back to rights.
His men dispersed, moving about in stony silence, shuffling about the deck in a haze of bitter disbelief, clearing the ropes, the weapons, setting the injured in the middle of the deck so bones could be reset and wounds sewn shut.
Roe knew exactly what they felt. The hatred that demanded release boiling in their guts. Hatred that would not find an escape today.
He expelled a long sigh. It had finally been their opportunity. Quite possibly their only one ever.
“Why is everyone glaring at me?”
Roe jumped. He’d forgotten about Torrie standing behind him.
His eyes closed for a long breath as he reined in his thoughts, reined in the anger running rampant through his veins. “We abandoned the attack. I ordered it.”
She stepped forward, looking up at him with her eyes wide. “You abandoned the attack? Were you losing?”
Roe grabbed her arm and moved, pulling her back under the quarterdeck toward his room, stepping lightly between the dead bodies ofMinervacrewmen on the floor.
Reaching his quarters, he spun her into his room and slammed the door closed behind them. “Never talk about losing in front of men you’ve just yanked from a battle.”
“Oh, I meant no disrespect.” Her shoulders fell. “But what was happening—why stop the attack?”
His lips pursed, his head shaking as he looked to the timbers of the ceiling. “My own blasted idiocy—that’s what the hell happened. We were winning, but I had to pull them back when those four brutes made it onto theFirehawk.”
“The men that attacked me?”
“Yes. They got across.” His fist slammed into his thigh. “And I don’t know how in the hell that happened. Everyone knew they were to protect that line in front of the planks.”
Her eyebrows drew together, scrunching the skin atop her nose. “You stopped the battle for me?”
He nodded, a heavy sigh lifting his chest. “I thought you were in danger.”
“So you stopped the attack?” She took a step toward him. “But you said this was important—important to everyone on this ship. And I saw their faces—the faces of your men. This was more than simple vengeance—why?”
Roe walked over to the weapons’ chest and dropped his cutlass in it. “Lord Bockton—he owns theMinervaand rides with it, and they aren’t just smugglers—they’re pirates when the opportunity presents itself. They’ll attack a ship if it’s convenient. Which is what happened to theFirehawk—they drew us close, and attacked us just days after we’d taken down a Turkish ship on a letter of marque. It was so soon after the last battle we were in that many in our crew were already wounded, and we were all weary. We couldn’t fight like we’re able to and we were only barely able to pull away from them. Had theFirehawkstayed attached to theMinerva, all of us would have been killed that day.”
Her hand went up in front of her mouth. “That’s atrocious.”
His look met hers. “But that’s not all—Lord Bockton is evil like I have never seen in another human. Our men he’s killed and how he’s killed them—tortured them within eyesight of us. Within earshot of us.” He closed his eyes, his head shaking. “So my men are all out for revenge. I’m out for revenge. There isn’t a one of us that will rest until Lord Bockton and his crew become meat for the sharks.”
She stared at him, three deep breaths lifting her chest before she opened her mouth. “So you had him in your grasp and you abandoned him for me?”
“Aye.” He shook his head, unable to hold her gaze and he looked to see a bloody tear in his shirt along his upper arm from a wild cutlass.
“You left his ship, left the vengeance that was almost yours, to save me. And you did save me.”
His look lifted to her, his eyebrows arching. “You saved yourself, Torrie. And me.”
“No. There was only one bullet in that pistol and it was all I had left. If you hadn’t shown when you did.” She paused, shuddering. “You saved me.”
“You would have found a way. You’re a survivor, Tor. It’s who you are.”
“But not always by my own accord.” She slowly shook her head, then suddenly stilled, her look pinning him. “I need you to tell me something, Roe. And I need you to be honest. The most honest thing you will ever say in your life.”
The look in her green eyes, the way she was reaching down into the very gutted depths of his soul, took him aback.
His jawline tensed so impossibly hard, he couldn’t get words to form. So he nodded.
