Page 80 of Of Magic and Rum
“Thank you.” After kissing the tip of her nose, I tilt my head to one side, peeking at the bustling streets. “Are they gone? Or should we continue our ruse?”
She tugs my beard and slips a hand into mine. “They’re gone. Come on. I saw the carpentry shop across the street.”
It’s probably for the best. The last thing I need is getting caught because I’m distracted by fucking my pirate queen inan alley. There are much better towns for such things—other alleyways.
We are in and out of the store within minutes, our arms stocked with new supplies of tar, oakum, dowels, and a small batch of lumber. The rest of the crew should be halfway back to the docks, and we make our way as briskly and discreetly as possible.
Almost there. I can see the docks in the distance.
“John Rackham, is that you?” A man’s voiceroars.
Anne’s eyes go wide, and we halt. I can ignore whoever just yelled my known name through the London streets, but doing this may risk him repeating it. With any luck, no one of note heard him.
Slowly, I turn and force a smile when I notice the voice’s owner is none other than Robert Carlisle. A man with far too much money and a frequent buyer of goods I used to ferry for coin. Despite being filthy rich, he never once tipped me.
“My word, itisyou.” Robert looks shocked at my appearance—the long hair and beard I’ve acquired over the years. “How have you, uh, how’ve you been, my boy?”
“Out of England. So, I’ve been right grand.” I glare at him, my lip bouncing in a snarky smile, and edge closer. “And you? Still stiffing people out of their money?”
Anne tugs my sleeve. “Jack, we should be going, love.”
Robert grimaces, holding a lacey handkerchief from inside his jacket sleeve to his nose. “I have myowntrading company now. No need to hire outside work.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I grind my teeth, Robert’s presence making my blood boil.
“Jack,” Anne whispers again,yankingmy arm this time. “We need. To. Go.”
Robert gives an incredulous stare. “And taking orders from a woman now. Thatdoessurprise me.”
And the gasket pops.
Anne tightens her hold like she knows I’m about to lose my shit, but I shrug away from her and stand toe-to-toe with Robert. Snatching his frilly handkerchief, I deliberately wipe my hands with it, keeping eye contact with him. When I throw it against his chest, it reeks of tar and fish and has black and brown stains. Robert holds it between two fingers at arm’s length.
“Have a nice life, Bobby. And if you ever see me in this shithole again, do me a favor and don’t say hello next time, yeah?” I lift my hand like I’m about to slap him, reveling in his wince before lowering my arm and turning away.
Anne threads her arm with mine, and we walk a bit faster now. “Thought for sure you were going to punch him square in the jaw.”
“I should have. But we’ve been through too much lately for me to jeopardize your lives over a meaningless cod like him.”
My blood still boils, and the surroundings don’t do well to let it simmer.
When we finally make it to the docks, I blow out a breath, some of the tension in my back releasing. But we have yet to be safe. We still need to return to the ship, repair it, and sail away with England unawares.
Back on board, hammers are flying, sails are being sewn, and wood planks are slapping against holes in the hull. Anne offers to help Mary, and Laust has proven himself useful in helping repair the holes.
I’m in my quarters, staring at navigation charts. Duke has always been better at this than me. And it’s not as if I can’t get us to where we need to go, I simply hate charting.
“Goddamit, Duke,” I seethe, tossing the metal compass to my desk and slumping in my chair. The compass bounces to the floor, narrowly missing Truffles’ tail, and he lets out a shrill screech.
I hold my face in my hands, wishing this weren’t reality. But if thisisa dream, Anne would be a figment of my imagination. She’s as real as the scales scattering her skin and the hauntingly beautiful teal eyes that appear when she’s a nymph.
“I know, I know,” I say to the ceiling. “I can hear you now, Duke.”
He’d tell me to pull myself together and focus on the tasks at hand. No one has ever gotten anywhere wallowing in self-pity. And he’d be right.
I’m just starting to make myself feel better when the crow’s nest bell starts ringing. I lunge from my cabin to the deck only to see in the distance precisely what I’d hoped I wouldn’t see. A Naval ship heads straight for us, and we have no means of escape now. Panic chokes me. Not for fear of myself being captured or even the thought of the gallows, but terror for them taking Anne and the crew. How in the hell did they know we were here?
Anne runs to me. “Jack, what do we do?”
