Page 48 of Escaping Pirates
I mimicked the motion, pulling my wrist free from his grip. He offered it again.
“Again.”
I was getting slower with each repetition.
“Faster,” Harlan ordered.
I tried once more, just like he’d drilled, but it was no faster. “I can’t do any more,” I told him. “Let’s call it a night.”
There was no playful smile on Harlan’s lips this time. “No. We need to keep going.”
“I’m tired, Harlan. I can’t do anymore.”
Harlan looked uncharacteristically stern. “You can’t give up. You need to learn this.”
“I can’t learn it all in one night,” I protested.
There was a rawness to the way Harlan looked at me. “I can’t watch you being taken advantage of.” His shoulders slumped and his face became tortured. “You have no idea what it’s like to watch you withhim. I can’t bear the thought of him touching you. I know you’re tired, and I’m sorry for that. But I need to know you can protect yourself.” Harlan’s dark green eyes betrayed a flicker of fear, but it wasn’t fear for himself. It was for me.
I released a breath. “Fine. One more round.”
His expression softened with relief. “Last one.”
He came at me in a mock attack once more, and I threw an elbow at his throat. He dodged and snatched at my wrist. Just like he’d taught me, I twisted toward his thumb to break his grip. It almost worked, but my fatigue had me in a chokehold that was impossible to escape.
After one more weak attempt to break free, I gave up and sank against Harlan’s chest. The tension drained from his muscles, and he hooked his chin over my head.
“Thank you for caring about me,” I mumbled into his shirt. On a ship full of pirates who treated me as a slave to be mistreated, used, and abused, Harlan cared. He wanted to see me safe.
Quietly, he began to hum a tune and snuck my hand into one of his while the other crept around to my lower back. We slowly revolved on the spot, my head pressed into his chest where I could hear the steady beating of his heart.
Warmth spread from where his hand was placed on my back all the way down to the tips of my toes. The tenuous control over my emotions was fading fast. Late nights when I was already exhausted and sore were the worst times for trying to keep my head on straight.
“Whatever happens,” he whispered into my ear, “I’ll take care of you the best I can.”
“You already have. You always protect me and without you here, I would have given up long ago.”
“I’m going to get us out of here,” Harlan promised. “Soon.”
He pulled back just enough to look down at me. His breath brushed my cheeks, and his eyes searched mine.
“I mean it,” he said quietly. “I want you to know how much I care.”
I nodded, my throat too tight for words. Everything I’d been trying to keep tucked away—the fear, the exhaustion, the ache of being used, and the relief of finally being seen—rose to the surface all at once. But despite it all, Harlan was still here and holding me through it.
“I care about you too, Harlan. So much.”
Something changed in his eyes, and his fingers moved up from my lower back, gently brushing the side of my neck. His thumb swept along my jaw, slow and reverent.
He inclined his head toward mine, then paused, waiting for the permission I’d wanted to give him for so long. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
His lips met mine, warm and tender, without urgency or pressure. It wasn’t just some secret, stolen moment or a desperate act. It was a promise.
I leaned in, letting myself melt into him, my hands curling into his hair as his arms tightened around me. The kiss deepened, his hand cradling the back of my head as if I were so delicate I might break.
When we finally parted, our foreheads touched, and neither of us spoke for a long moment.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said, voice low and slightly breathless.
