“Then it’s a good thing I’mGentlemanStarkey.” He gives her a practiced bow, his eyes eating up her curves.
She turns her back on him. “Isn’t there a deck needs swabbing?”
“If I recall you’re the newest boatswain onboard. You should be bent over … a mop.” He leans against the railing.
“I have orders.” She draws her cutlass and tosses me a wooden one.
I catch it. Barely.
He looks at me. “A stiff wind could knock you over, darling. You sure you’re up to this?”
“Quit pestering them.” Hook’s voice comes from somewhere above.
I crane my head back and see him leaning out of the crow’s nest.
“Aye, Captain.” Starkey stops gawking and takes his metal crank somewhere up to the front of the ship.
The other sailors get to work, some mopping the deck, others coiling rope, while a few others are working on repairing the sail that was ripped when they fought the Ranger.
“Don’t worry about them. Hook runs a tight ship.”
I hoist the wooden sword. “How can I not worry? They’re pirates.”
“So am I.”
“But you’re different.”
“No. I’m a pirate. Same as them. Bound to the Jolly Roger and sailing under the command of James Hook. His word is law, and you’re his guest. They won’t touch you.”
“I don’t know about that.” I shoot a look at the large one—the man with all the tattoos—then jerk my chin at him. “See?”
She raises a brow. “Bill, step up.”
“Oh my god.” I want to sink beneath the ship deck when he stomps over.
“I’ve got a mast to tar. What is it you’re wanting?” He wipes his forearm across his sweaty forehead, all the muscles in his body flexing as he does it. He’s absolutely massive.
“What would happen to you if you were to lay a finger on Moira?”
He glances up at the crow’s nest. “I reckon I won’t have any guts left in my body if I were to do that.”
I swear I can hear Hook snort a laugh. I might sag a little in relief. Of all the men on this ship, Bill’s the scariest after Hook. He’s just so big, and all that ink—it must’ve hurt like hell. If he can take that kind of pain, how much can he dish out?
“That all?” he asks.
Widow taps the flat of her blade on her palm. “Wait, if I remember right, you’re amazing in hand-to-hand. I saw you fighting at Blackbeard’s contest a little while ago. You won the prize money.”
He draws himself up, pride in his chest. “I did.”
“Could you show Moira some moves, maybe teach her how to defend herself if—”
“Not a chance. Captain would—” He drags his thumb across his neck.
“Captain!” Widow yells.
“Oh my god, Widow, don’t!” I grab her forearm.
“What?” Hook leans out of the nest again, his black hair blowing in the breeze.
