Page 89 of An Imperfect Scoundrel
Her mouth opened in a silent scream.
Approaching her pain-ravaged body, Mr. Evans unfastened his trousers, a sneer stretching his mouth into a horrid smile. He knelt behind her, shoved his fingers into her waistband, and pulled her pants down, exposing her body to her thighs.
“I’ll have what I want from you—repeatedly—and after you’ve lost your voice begging me for mercy, I’ll take you one more time, then I’ll kill you.”
“What the devil?” Mr. Hayward bellowed as he appeared in the cargo hold doorway. His gaze skated over the bruising on Alana’s face, her half-naked position beneath Mr. Evans, and Mr. Evans’ trousers, wrapped around his ankles.
“We don’t condone that kind of punishment! The captain will hear of your misconduct.”
Yanking his pants up, Mr. Evans stood, strode to the door, and unlocked it. He pushed the gate open, then gestured at Alana as she struggled to cover herself.
“You misunderstand. Dubois is a woman.”
Mr. Hayward’s eyes flicked to Alana and back to Mr. Evans’ face. “Are you certain?”
“Quite certain, and the captain is, too, judging from his loud exploration of her body.” Twisting around, Mr. Evans winked at Alana. “Perhaps you’d like two men at the same time.”
She shook her head, fear restricting her voice. Wrapping her fingers around the slats, she climbed to her feet, her wary gaze shifting between both pirates.
Where was Captain Shaw? Surely, he wouldn’t abandon her to Mr. Evans and the rest of the crew’s nefarious whims.
“If that is true, then Mrs. Dubois is subject to the prisoner’s code and is protected from this kind of assault.”
“But she lied!” Mr. Evans’ face darkened. “And she stole.”
“The code makes no distinction.” Folding his arms, Mr. Hayward moved aside, gesturing for Mr. Evans to pass through the cage door, and held out his hand.
“I’ll take Mr. Johnson’s keys now.”
“I’m your superior.” Snarling, Mr. Evans stepped through the opening. “This is my ship.”
“I work for Captain Shaw, not you. When he retires, I do, too. You’ll never be my captain.” Snapping his fingers, Mr. Hayward indicated his palm with his eyes.
Glaring at Alana, Mr. Evans spit on the floor of the cage, then dropped the key ring into Mr. Hayward’s outstretched hand. He turned and walked stiffly out of the cargo hold.
“You certainly picked the worst enemy to have aboard this ship, Mr. Dubois,” Mr. Hayward said with a heavy sigh.
“It’s missus.” She offered him a sheepish smile, tugging at the ends of her short hair, and approached the cage’s opening. “I cut it.”
“I know. Captain Shaw told me.” Mr. Hayward grinned, then offered her a formal bow. “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Dubois.”
“Thank you.” She curtsied in return, a soft groan escaping as she bent forward.
“I’m sorry, but I need to lock you back up. Captain Shaw must be made aware of this incident before Evans can no longer be controlled.” He closed the door and latched the cage. “He can’t get to you in here.”
“How many key rings are there?”
“Three,” he replied, holding up his fingers. “Captain has a set as well. But you’ll be protected in this cell until I return.”
She slid her arm through the cage, and touched Mr. Hayward’s shoulder, stopping him before he turned away. “My gratitude to you. If you hadn’t stopped him…”
Mr. Hayward glanced down at her hand. “I would have stopped him had you been any one of my prisoners.”
“But you didn’t join him either.”
“I’m a faithful man.” He patted her hand, then exited the cargo hold. The lock scraped, and his footsteps faded as he headed toward the ship’s stern.
“Missus Dubois?” The incredulous question floated from the opposite side of the cargo hold. Mr. Woodford pressed his face against the side of his cage. “Why didn’t you say anything when you were helping us shovel?”
