Page 63 of The Pirate Queen of Ruin
“I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Lakelynn slams her door shut, and faintly, I can hear the metal music she likes bleeding through the heavy doors. Yeah, I think he will be a screamer too.
“Who do you work for then?” I ask. “Because you aren’t here for a fucking history lesson.”
“Prospectus, the security company, well, I used to work there. I don’t any more. Oh my god,” he whimpers.
To my left, Lagulla has removed her headscarf to reveal her waist-length hair filled with snakes. The serpents hiss and stretch before settling around her shoulders. It’s not like she is even looking at the guy. He can calm down. Orthia snaps her fingers in his face.
“Focus, dickhead. Why don’t you work there any more?”
A knife appears in front of him, and she drags it down to the top of his trousers. Another scared sound comes out of his mouth.
“Got caught stealing shit from a client two weeks ago. Fired instantly.”
“So why’re you fucking around with my girl?”
The moment the words leave her mouth, my whole body starts tingling. Will I ever get tired of her public declarations?
No. I need every single one of these to get rid of the feeling of her rejection. Whenever she calls me hers or shows me her affections in front of the crew, it heals that sore spot in my chest a bit more. She is trying. Orthia may have me begging for her touch in bed, but everywhere else? She makes sure people know who I am to her. There is no questioning our bond now. She is mine, and I am hers, and we are Love’s.
“Some of the guys who I used to work with asked me to check around. It was a lot of money, okay? Heard some things about her and-and- wanted me to find her.” A tear slips down his cheek. “Please, I didn’t know. I won’t say anything, please.”
I surge forward and grab his shirt. He squawks, his shoulders taking his full weight as he loses balance on his toes. He’s pathetic. Any authority he had evaporated the moment he was chained up. Around us the crew lounge around and watch this man begin to blubber. Orthia has even put her knife away. It’s sad to see there is no loyalty, but when money is the only thing keeping you around, why would there be?
“Names, now,” I snarl.
“Pat Lovette and Darren Gross. They’re big guys but basic-looking. Darren’s on a fishing vacation right now. Pat only goes to three places: his apartment, the gym, and work. His next job is that fancy regatta next week. Darren isn’t scheduled to work until the big shit show at the yacht club. That’s everything I know, I swear,” he stammers out the last of his information as quickly as possible.
More tears slip down his cheeks as I continue to stare at him. Whatever anger I felt earlier is twisted into disgust. This guy is a weasel, a conniving little predator that never stood a chance. I release him with a shake, and his head knocks against the pole softly. He doesn’t deserve to live, but it won’t feel good to make him suffer for being an idiot. I stand next to Orthia and look down at her slightly. Her lips are pursed like she is having the same thought I am. Love is silent, and when I focus hard to reach them, all I can sense is exasperation. There is no hunger in them for this sad meal.
“Did you look up, Delphini?” she asks, her voice soft. She is hunting for a reason to be angry, to rally Love and the crew. “Do you know what your co-workers did to her?”
The man gapes, his mouth opening and closing a few times before sputtering, “Who hasn’t seen the pictures?”
Tears sting my eyelids. The pictures are something that I have resigned myself to. Because this fucker is right. Who hasn’t seen the pictures? Seen the violence committed against me and claimed that I’m some fucking villain. They don’t know the truth. But all the crew who are present raise their hands. They haven’t looked for that image or seen it by accident. They have respected my privacy since day one, even when they weren’t sure I would live much longer. A breath catches in my throat as I see them, scowls replacing their looks of boredom. Orthia grabs his chin and forces him to look at each of the women.
“You see that? Not a single one of my crew saw it. Was it necessary to do your job?”
“I’m sorry,” he begs. “Please, I was just doing my job.”
“So am I,” Orthia says.
There is a flash of steel, and a subtle pink glow follows quickly. She pulls her knife from his stomach.
“For Love,” Aiofe shouts.
The crew responds with a resounding shout and cheer. Orthia dismisses them after requesting a clean-up and someone to check on Lakelynn.
“Delphini.” She uses that authoritative captain’s voice of hers that makes me want to kiss her stupidly. “Come with me, we have work to do.”
Chapter twenty-two
Orthia
16 Days
Iwanttoscratchmy clothes and skin off as we walk through a crowd of people on the hottest day of the year so far. The pier is heaving with locals and tourists alike as we make our way from the public entrance of the annual Gwenmore Regatta towards the yacht club. While anyone can see the boats race from the pier, this is a privately funded event by the club. The finish line is out of view for the average person dressed in their finest linens.
