"Unleash your creativity and unlock your potential with MsgBrains.Com - the innovative platform for nurturing your intellect." » » ,,Back from the Dead: Red'' by Sara Harris💙📖💙📖

Add to favorite ,,Back from the Dead: Red'' by Sara Harris💙📖💙📖

Select the language in which you want the text you are reading to be translated, then select the words you don't know with the cursor to get the translation above the selected word!




Go to page:
Text Size:

She stopped buttoning and stood still. Finally, quiet words escaped her lips. “Is it because I’m a woman?”

Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around her and closed her hands in mine. “Anyone would be lucky to have you love them,” I whispered into her ear.

She turned her face so that my lips brushed her skin.

“And no, it’s not because you’re a woman. It’s because I love Jack. I must find a way back to him. If China Joe—”

“China Joe?” Bon’s body stiffened and her words rang out loud and hard. “He’s a madman.”

I laid my head against her and rubbed my thumb along her trembling hand.

Bon shook free of my grasp and stomped across the floor. She paused for a moment as though she wanted to speak. Instead, she shook her head and stepped out onto the deck, slamming the door to my cabin behind her.

I melted onto my bunk. The Molly Maiden pitched and threatened to throw me onto the floor. My head drooped low, but no tears came. Instead, my mind tried to wrap itself around my predicament.

I lost my Jacky. Even though I was steadfast in my faithfulness to him, the ache of betrayal turned in my chest.

I lost my only friend aboard an unfriendly ship. The look of hurt upon Bon’s face was like a slap to mine. She’d been nothing but kind to me, and I brought her only hurt.

Now, it seems I have lost my way.

The brief thought of Bon putting me ashore flittered in my mind like a wounded bird. I wondered what the noose would feel like around my neck when I was tried for piracy and convicted to hang by the neck until dead. I rubbed my throat.

If Bon doesn’t put me ashore like she threatened to do Angel-Arse Hazel, I may just knot the rope myself.

Chapter Eleven

Aboard The Molly Maiden on the high seas

I sat alone in my room until night fell, alone with just my dark and brooding thoughts for company. Despite the growling in my stomach, I didn’t dare set foot outside my door. Strangely, I didn’t feel any sort of fear, even about Angel-Arse Hazel. But what I did feel was a looming regret of how things had happened with Bon.

What could I have done differently? I paced circles around my cabin as the infernal question swirled round in my mind. No matter what possible changes I made, every single one ended the same way—with Bon stomping out.

Angry.

Angry at something.

Angry at me.

The Molly Maiden stopped with a jerk so fierce, I tumbled off my bunk and onto the floor. Before I could push myself to my feet, something hit my door.

“Red? Red, it’s Bon. Can I come in?”

I stumbled to the door and yanked it open. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask.” I tried to smile, but she refused to meet my eyes.

“We dropped anchor.”

The smile melted from my lips and something sunk in my chest. “Dropped anchor?”

Marooned. I’m going to be marooned.

“Yes, alongside The Black Otter.” Bon held out her hand and finally flickered her gaze to mine. If violet could be sadly blue, that was the shade of her eyes today. “We have to get you back to Russian Jack, don’t we?”

A flood of emotion threatened to drown me as I placed my hand in hers. “Yes. Yes we do.”

I let Bon pull me from my room. Just as she said promised, we were alongside The Black Otter.

My home I thought I’d never see again.

It was strangely silent, not even the sails fluttered. Nobody dangled in the ratlines, nobody sat in the eagle’s nest, nobody puttered about the deck. The majestic ship that had been larger than life looked like nothing more than a shell of its former self; a forgotten ghost ship upon the sea. Hot emotion surged in my throat and I didn’t know whether I was going to cry or cuss.

Irish Bon let go of my hand.

Jack’s face flashed in my mind. That handsome face that kissed me gently and promised me forever before saving my life by botching my execution. My heart pounded against the inside of my chest.

The memory of Sully telling me the horrors of China Joe keeping captives alive for days, for torture lit my mind.

A fuzzy red ring tinged my vision as a foreign emotion came over me. In that moment, I knew I could kill again if it meant Jacky would be safe. Or avenged.

All the girls were there on deck, even Angel-Arse. She refused to look at me.

Bon kept her voice low. “The Black Otter is blacked out,” she began. “China Joe’s at the helm, so everyone’s probably drunk. We’re going over, girls. Just as we talked about.”

Talked about?

Before I had the chance to ask what she meant, Bon reached over and grabbed the side of The Black Otter as it rocked gently on the waves.

Bon pulled a dagger out of her belt and slipped it into my hand. I nodded in thanks. Something tingled in my fingers where our skin brushed against each other’s.

There will be blood tonight.

Bon didn’t speak, but motioned. Her intention was clear. It was time to board The Black Otter.

“You keep behind me Red, stay hidden,” Bon instructed. “Rhodesia? Do your thing.”

Rhodesia winked and sauntered across the deck, a distinct and unnatural swing in her hips. “Yoo-hoo,” she sang. “Yoo-hooooooo!”

A wiry Chinese pirate rose from the deck like a ghost from a corpse. Slowly, he drew his dagger from his boot. “What you want?”

Rhodesia shook her ample bosom and strode right up to him. She plucked the dagger from his hand and sheathed it back into his boot. “Honey, we’re from The Ship of Dreams. And what I want is—” She kissed her fingers and pressed them to his lips. “You.”

The drunk pirate stood, stupefied, before realizing what he was being offered. A slow smile spread across this drawn face and lifted his moustache upward. “Ah, wench. Come wiff me.”

He barked something in Chinese before guiding Rhodesia to a corner of the deck. His pants were already half down before the darkness enveloped the pair of them. Several more men straggled out from unseen places, rubbing their eyes, and some, still carrying their jugs of rum.

The girls of The Molly Maiden snapped into action. All giggles and swaggers, each fell onto the waiting arm of a horny, drunk Chinese pirate.

“Settle up with me after,” Bon called. “For now, enjoy the wares!”

Are sens