“The Rawbone!” Someone shrieked. “The Rawbone is here! We’re all going to die!”
Pandemonium.
More gunshots.
More screaming.
Laughing wildly, Blythe ripped off her skirts. They’d been sewn with a loose seam to make it easier, although she did have to use her knife to get it started. Following Jake, she ran toward where the HMS Lion was docked, waiting for its maiden voyage.
A line of soldiers blocked their way, with Hopkins running up the plank to the ship behind them.
Mack
Dripping wet, Mack cursed his brother under his breath as he made short work of the climb up the side of the HMS Lion, biting down on the cold steel of his knife to keep it firmly between his teeth. The metallic taste coated the inside of his mouth as more cannon fire boomed out.
From the shouts he could hear coming across the water, it sounded as though Jake’s plan to panic the population was going well. It also made it unlikely that anyone was watching the Lion, and distracted any guards left onboard the ship.
Silently pulling himself over the rail, Mack grinned when he saw that the guards were standing and watching either the chaos on land or the Rawbone, which was clearly visible, although too far away for any cannons from the Lion to reach it. They were not watching the side of the ship that he and five of his crew had climbed up.
It wasn’t a fair fight, but it was a quick one.
Just in time, too. Mack reached the top of the gangway at the same moment as his father reached the bottom. Dripping wet, knife in one hand, a pistol taken from one of the dead guards in his other, Mack grinned widely.
“Hello, Father,” he said, mocking.
Until that moment, Hopkins apparently hadn’t recognized his own son, because his skin bleached out with shock and panic at Mack’s greeting. He opened his mouth to speak, but the word came out more as a rasp. “Guards…”
Leveling the pistol at the older man, Mack felt himself go cold inside. The governor paled even further.
“Max…” His voice faltered.
Cold, dammit, cold. Mack had killed before. He’d had to. Even before he’d become a pirate. Because the man in front of him had tried to enslave him and Jake, the same way he had their mother. And yet… now that Hopkins was in front of him, other memories were pushing their way to the front of his mind. Learning how to fish. How to read and write. How to shoot.
Things he hadn’t thought about in years, because all he’d focused on was getting revenge. Because Hopkins was a right bastard. But there had been good memories too. Ones that made it harder to pull the trigger than Mack would have thought possible now that he was looking into Hopkin’s eyes.
Every time he’d imagined this moment, he’d shot his father and felt nothing but satisfaction.
“Mack,” he corrected his father. The name he’d taken for himself. As far as he was concerned, Max Hopkins was dead. Only Mack Rawbone remained.
So why couldn’t he shoot?
Chapter 13
Jake
Something was wrong.
Mack was standing at the top of the gangway, blocking Hopkins’ ascent, but that’s all he was doing. Jake’s insides twisted. There was still a line of guards in front of him, but they were looking more unsure by the moment, especially when faced off against a merchant and a lady wearing pants. More than one of them stared at her legs.
“Pirates!” Blythe shrieked next to him, pointing at the ship, and nearly making Jake laugh aloud.
The majority of the guards turned to look, giving them the opportunity to leap forward. Having Bonny Blythe on their side was more than just luck—although he still wanted to paddle her ass for poisoning Ready. Or, well, not for poisoning him specifically, but for not telling Jake what she was going to do. It had ended up working out well enough, playing into the distraction that he wanted, but it could have thrown everything off.
Still, he understood the need for vengeance. He was finally on the precipice of his own.
Savagely, he sliced across a guard’s chest, pushing him to the side as he fell. All the padding around his midsection hindered his usual smooth motions, but he made do. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his disguised crew members jumping into the melee. Behind him he could still hear the screams and panic of the people, who should hopefully keep any other guards busy.
Behind, Blythe was fighting just as fiercely, guarding his back. He was a little startled to realize that he trusted her in that position just as much as he would his brother.
Gunfire blasted close by, more than one shot, and screams quickly followed. From the thick of the fight, Jake couldn’t tell who was doing the shooting or the screaming.
Mack
With one last wild-eyed look at him, Hopkins turned and flung himself into the melee behind him, trying to find his way away from the ship.
Bloody hell, he cursed himself.
“Guard the ship!” Mack shouted at the men who’d followed him on board, running down the gangway after Hopkins. There were enough of them to hold the ship, as long as no one climbed up the sides the way they had. From the looks of things, he doubted any of the governor’s guards were in a position to even think of such a thing. Those who weren’t fighting for their lives were too busy trying to keep the panicked crowd under control.
Several of them were taking shots where they could, picking off some of the guards who were unwise enough to break off from the pack, and in general causing even more confusion.
He could see glimpses of Jake and Blythe as he joined the fight. The guards were all helpfully clothed in red uniforms, making them easy targets. Of course, the fact that the pirates weren’t in the uniforms made it easy for the guards to know who they were too.
Blocking one man’s sword thrust, Mack swept his own blade upward, pushing the other man’s with it and then shot him in the chest. He fell back and Mack caught another glimpse of Hopkins, now half-hanging on two guards, obviously trying to get them to cover his escape.
Oh no you don’t.
Grim resolve filled him. He’d hesitated once, but he wouldn’t make that mistake again. Hopkins wouldn’t live past today.
Blythe
At first the guards hadn’t quite known what to make of her, but after she’d cut down the first one to face her when he hesitated to engage her at all, they came after her with a vengeance. Blythe had seen it before—they took her fighting skills as an affront because she wasn’t a man. It made them careless, as they underestimated her and their emotions took over their sense, and she used their rage against them.
Laughing, which infuriated them even more, she fought back to back with Jake, trusting him to keep her safe on that side.
She saw Hopkins come running into the fray, the dimwit, grabbing at guards and shouting orders for them to protect him. If he’d wanted to be safe, he shouldn’t have run into the middle of the fight… but then, he probably hadn’t had anywhere else to go. The thought made her laugh again, grinning madly as she fought harder.
At her back, Jake tensed, but didn’t leap for Hopkins. He stayed in position. Blythe saw Mack advancing through the crowd, following the governor’s path.
Both he and Ready were getting exactly what they deserved today.
What happened to the wife? She suddenly wondered. Ready’s wife, who was also Hopkin’s sister, was nowhere in sight.
He must have abandoned her when all the shooting started, running to save his own skin while she was crying over Ready’s corpse. What a prince. Likely she was no better than her brother or her husband, but in that moment, Blythe felt a little sorry for her.
Both of her men were there for her. She trusted Jake and Mack to have her back, she knew she could rely on them… the same way she had her husband. For just a moment, she faltered, distracted from the fight and she jerked to the side when one of the guards almost got her with his sword, barely managing to deflect his blow.
This was no time to become lost in her thoughts, and Blythe redoubled
her efforts, focusing on the men trying to kill her and nothing else.
Mack
The end of a fight often came suddenly. There was opponent after opponent, and then suddenly, there wasn’t. Instead, he was standing, muscles aching, amid bodies and the groaning injured.
Dashing the sweat from his eyes, he looked around frantically. Jake and Blythe had moved from where he’d last seen them, but they were still standing, Jake’s arm wrapped around Blythe’s waist, helping to support her. She looked exhausted but unharmed. A few slashes through the fabric of her shirt showed that it was a close-run thing. When Jake lifted his own arm in greeting, Mack could see that his brother’s waistcoat was slashed as well.
Good thing he had all that extra padding underneath. Mack’s lips twitched with amusement that such a thing had helped Jake escape injury. He’d have to suggest using such a disguise more often. For Jake’s protection, of course.
Several of the crew were also on the ground. Nearby, Tim and Darian were helping Curt to stand, although at least he could get to his feet, unlike poor Sam. He’d taken a gash across the throat. But if there were any justice in the world, he was down in Hell laughing and waiting to greet the man he’d hated nearly as much as Mack and Jake did.
The Governor of Antigua, Jake and Mack’s father, was on the ground, clutching a belly wound. A slowly spreading stain on his coat and the pallor of his face declared that he wasn’t much long for this world. It was impossible to know whose sword had cut him, and Mack was surprised to realize he was relieved to be ignorant as to whether or not it had been his.
His sons converged on him, moving so that they protectively flanked Blythe, even though all the guards in their area were down. It was an instinctive move—pirates protected their treasure. Mack wasn’t risking anything happening to her.
Hands pressed against his stomach, stained with blood, Hopkins stared up at them.
“Help me.” The words rasped. “Please, help me.”
Jake and Mack looked at each other over Blythe’s head. There was no help for the man, he was clearly dying, no matter what they did. They weren’t going to waste this moment though.
“Jake, do you remember what he said when we asked him for help? When we asked for a doctor for Mom?” Mack asked, almost conversationally.
“I believe I do, Mack,” Jake said, stroking his chin with his free hand. “Something like… no.”
Anger seemed to give Hopkins a little extra life. He glared up at them. “She was a worthless slave. I’m a governor. I’ll pay you.” He coughed, blood trickling from his lips as his desperation grew. “Whatever you want.”
“Our mother was worth a hundred of you,” Mack said coldly.
Right on his heels, Jake added on. “You are worth less than the trash in the street, which is exactly what you’ll be in just a few minutes.”
“You stupid bastards!” Hopkins tried to shout, although he barely had the air to speak at a normal level. His breath was coming shorter and shorter. “I should have drowned you at birth, I should have-”
BOOM!
Both men jumped as Hopkins fell back, blood spilling from his mouth, eyes wide and staring in death. A stain on his chest spread, the bloody hole gaping. Mack stared at the body, almost unable to believe that he was truly gone, that it was over. Yet he was also glad that the man had finally shut up. Whether or not Antigua would re
Blythe tucked her pistol into her waistband. “Come on,” she said. “We’re wasting time and we need to get out of here.”
“I’m the Captain, I give the orders,” Jake retorted. Drawing himself up, he coughed and looked around before nodding. “To the HMS Lion. We need to get out of here.” When Blythe rolled her eyes, Jake slapped her bottom. “Move faster, wench.”
Heart feeling strangely light, Mack ran up the gangplank behind them, leaving the trash in the street where it belonged.
Chapter 14
Jake
Leaving his father’s body behind, Jake wished he felt a better sense of completion. His father’s death was supposed to be the pinnacle of his and Mack’s revenge, of justice for their mother. While he felt a kind of savage satisfaction, he also felt anger and sadness. His father could have been a good man. Instead, he’d chosen to be a corrupt, self-serving, power-hungry bastard.
And now he was dead.
Maybe that was the real problem. For so long, Jake’s entire focus had been on bringing his father down. Undermining Antigua’s trade routes, its income, it’s slavers. Doing everything he could to thwart Hopkin’s power and ambitions.
Now that Hopkins was finally dead, he wasn’t quite sure what he was to do next. Almost dazed, he gave the half crew with him the orders to take the HMS Lion out to sea. They had a rendezvous with the Rawbone.
Blythe
The governor’s quarters on the Lion—Jake truly needed to change the poor ship’s name, it was terrible—were as gaudy and tawdry as anything Blythe had ever seen. Actual velvet curtains hanging from the bed, glints of gold flashing from every angle, and diamond encrusted knobs on the dresser. The wardrobe and trunks were filled with expensive clothing and jewels. Apparently, Hopkins had already outfitted the cabin in expectation of being on board for its maiden voyage.
Everything was expensive and showy, but ugly.
“Look,” Mack said cheerfully, holding up a sword. Its handle was covered in so many jewels that it glittered, even in the dim lighting of the corner he was standing in. “Do you think he planned to fight with this?”
Since she knew he wasn’t really looking for an answer, Blythe just continued her own explorations. She poked at the bed, running her hand over the curtains and shaking her head. Velvet had no place on board a ship. The salt air would ruin the pretty fabric.
“How’s the bed?” Mack asked, his voice suddenly right behind her and she jumped in surprise. How he managed to move so quietly, she had no idea.
Turning to look at him over her shoulder, she grinned at him. “Why don’t we find out?”
Twisting, she jumped onto the bed, landing on her back, laughing as the downy blankets puffed and fluffed around her. It was the softest bed she’d ever laid down in. No surprise there.
Chuckling, Mack crawled onto the bed with her, bracing himself over her with a hand on either side of her head, his lower body settling between her legs. There was a wicked glint in his eye. “The bed is very nice,” he said. “But not as nice as the lady in it.”
The door opened as he spoke, Jake striding into the room just in time to hear what he said. Both Mack and Blythe turned to look at him as he spoke. “The lady is in trouble.”
Blythe scowled at him. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“You poisoned Ready.”
She sniffed. “As I said. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
If he expected her to have regrets on that account, he was sorely mistaken. To her surprise, he laughed.
Jake
Coming into the room and finding Mack and Blythe there, already on the large bed, had made something inside of Jake relax. They were on course to their meeting point with the Rawbone, his father was dead, he had a new ship, and there was a beautiful woman in his bed. One that he’d like to keep there.
It hadn’t taken him very long to realize that Hopkin’s death was not an end, but rather a new beginning. A chance to choose for himself what he wanted to do, rather than focusing on keeping Hopkins from everything he wanted.
And the very first thing that Jake wanted was Bonny Blythe. Now all he had to do was help Mack convince her to stay. Meeting his brother’s eyes, he could see some of that reflected back at him. They didn’t need to speak to know they felt the same way about this woman.
“I think our Bonny Blythe needs another lesson in following orders, Mack,” he said, coming up behind his brother, who shifted slightly to the side to give Jake more access to her body as he lay down beside them. Reaching over, Jake tugged the hem of her shirt out of her pants, pulling it up to bare her breasts. Her nippl
es were already hard and budded, ready to be played with—or punished.
Jake pinched one hard, making her squeal and squirm underneath Mack’s body. She scowled at him.
“I regret nothing.”
He chuckled, toying with her nipple again, a little more gently. “You should have let me know what your plans were, love. If I had, I would have worked it into my plan. We’re lucky everything worked out the way it did, but we can’t count on luck every time, even if you are the Siren of the Seven Seas.”
Blythe
Before she could think of a good retort, both men lowered their heads to her breasts in unison, each of them taking a nipple in their mouth and making her gasp. She grabbed at their heads, her fingers sliding into their curly hair, moaning as they began to suckle, teasing her with their lips and tongues. Mack’s cock ground against her, his lower body pinning her to the bed.
Jake’s fingers stroked over her belly, making the soft flesh quiver as he traced little patterns, his teeth scraping over the sensitive bud of her nipple. Mack was gentler, toying with the little nubbin, nipping and sucking. The combination drove her wild.
“Please,” she begged. “Touch me.” She didn’t mind begging because she knew that was what they wanted, knew that they would give her want she wanted faster if she begged.
She could feel the vibrations of their chuckles.
Lifting his head, Jake’s hand slid up to the breast he’d just abandoned, caressing and playing with it almost idly.
“Perhaps we’re going about this the wrong way,” he said to Mack, musing out loud. “If we tease her, she’s sure to climax, quickly and easily once we get our cocks in her.” The filthy words made her shudder, because she knew it was true. “Let’s make her work to catch up to us instead.”
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