Never Surrender (Uncharted Secrets, Book 4): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories

by Cristi Taijeron

  Still unable to make a move or speak a word, I remained silent in my terrified trance as he once again did all he could to force his seed in my womb. Lying there, with my battered face pressed against the expensive rug, I thought about fighting him, but there was no use. The lingering pain stinging my face served as a fervid reminder of the power he held over me, and the way he huffed in my ear and groped my breasts solidified the might of the bars he caged me in with.

  Like Shannyn said, I was nothing but his pretty little prisoner.

  In front of my father—and the rest of this world I had wanted so badly to be a part of—Joel still treated me like a queen. But here, behind his closed doors—where he cursed my existence, scorned my dangerous mind and forced himself between my legs day after day—I was beginning to feel more and more like the damned slaves he compared me to. I was nothing but his property, an investment of which the return would be sons to bear his name.

  With his final thrust, he held me stiffer than I held myself, and as my unwilling body accepted the heat of his future plans, an inebriating sense of defeat washed over my soul. I was unable to speak against him, I was in no position to defend myself from him, and though I fantasized about chopping off his gigantic dick with my Black Hawke dagger as he stuffed it back into his breeches, I knew the desire would never extend beyond the perimeters of my tormented mind.

  I was trapped.

  I never hated anyone this much, but I also never feared anybody more. The words never surrender were seared in my mind, and my soul still burned with the fire to fight, but there was no way I could wage war against this powerful man on my own. And even if I could find a way out, I had no one to run to and nowhere to hide. All I could do was wait behind his closed curtains until Mason returned.

  Mason said he’d burn this place to the ground if Joel turned out to be an arse, and it was already beyond apparent that a fire would be lit. Aye, the light in my darkened tunnel was the burning red flames that would soon fill the beautiful halls of this godforsaken prison cell.

  Once Joel left the room, I gathered the strength to prop myself up, but it wasn’t until I heard him stomping down the stairs that the tears began to fall. Rubbing the ring my father had given my mother, thinking of the love he had wished for me to find, I cried and I cried. Blinded by the wall of water, the aching pains on my face and body became all the more prominent. Over the sound of my heart beating wildly with fear, I was unsure if I’d truly heard a knocking on the door.

  The sound of Nathan’s pleasant greeting assured me someone was there. Nathan Langley’s sole purpose at the estate was to dote over the madam, and I appreciated his kind courtesies as much as I enjoyed his pleasant company.

  Not wanting him to see me in this battered state, I thought about jumping up to act like everything was fine, but my body was still too weak from the degree of shock it had endured. “You may enter,” I mustered the strength to say.

  “I have brought your afternoon tea.” Happily carrying the tray, Nathan looked around. Once he spotted me balled up in the corner, his expression drooped. Quickly, he set the tray on my desk, and then rushed over to me. “Are you all right, Madam? What happened?”

  “I spoke out of turn,” I said, but the sound of weakness in my voice was far more humiliating than the pathetic position I was in.

  “No. Master Addison did this to you?” His expression was flush with horror.

  “Yes.” I straightened my shoulders. “He threatened to take my quill and ink from me, and when I expressed my rebuttal to the ridiculous demand, he whacked me.”

  “This is terrible. I don’t know what to say.” Nathan looked down.

  “Just mind what you say to Joel, or he’ll pop you in the mouth.” I chuckled.

  Nathan looked mortified by my response. “How can you joke about this?”

  “A good sense of humor makes for a strong survival tactic.” As I quoted Mason’s line, I felt his blood running stronger in my veins. Remembering who I was, I gathered the strength to stand up and held my head high as I informed Nathan, “My mother used to tell me pirate stories at bedtime and the hero of her tales said that line, along with many others that help me get by in this wretched world we live in. You see, Nathan, the power of the word is an amazing thing. That is why my father taught me how to write, and I suppose that’s why Joel doesn’t want me doing it.”

  “I can’t write or read, but I sure wish I could. My father used to tell me stories, too, and I often think how nice it would be to read a good book every now and then.”

  “I could teach you if you’d like.”

  Nathan looked at me like I had asked if he wanted me to introduce him to the devil. “I reckon Master Addison would be rather upset if he found you teaching me to do what he doesn’t want you doing.”

  “Oh, come on, have a sense of adventure, Nathan. Think of what fun it would be. I could certainly use a good thrill in my life, and I bet you’d enjoy it, too.”

  He shook his head. “Ah, mi’lady, it is this type of behavior which angers him so.”

  Annoyed by his whiny reminder, I raised a brow. “If he is going to beat me either way, I’d just as soon have it be because I am angering him.”

  “All right. I’ll think about it.” He raised his hands in surrender, then continued to flavor my tea just how I liked it.

  As handsome as Nathan was, with his raven hair, pale skin, and icy blue eyes, I liked to pretend he was courting me. “Thank you for always being so nice to me, Nathan. I have no one to talk to and I am awfully lonely. Hope has left this world for good, my father is busy with his new wife, and I got in a fight with my friend Shannyn. We haven’t spoken since November. I miss her.”

  “What did you fight about?” He sat down.

  Happy to see him getting comfortable, I perked up. “To be honest with you, she told me I had too much spirit for a man like Joel , and that this way of living would suffocate my colorful soul. I didn’t want to believe her at the time, but,” I fanned my hand past the bruise forming under my eye, “as you can see, she was right.”

  Once again looking uncomfortable, he bit at his lip. Liking the way he looked as he did so, I lost track of what we were talking about until he looked at my quill and said, “Well, since you can write, why don’t you tell her how you feel in a letter? I could deliver it for you next time I head to town.”

  “Would you do that for me?”

  “Of course I would.”

  Overwhelmed with appreciation, I jumped up and grabbed my quill while it was still there for me to use. Remembering how Shannyn couldn’t read or write either, I wrote a short, sweet apology and signed it, R. Bentley.

  Sealing the envelope, I said to Nathan, “She works at Barlow’s Brothel.”

  “Is she a whore?” His face contorted.

  “No, silly. She is a barmaid, and if you call her a whore she’ll whack you upside the head with a mug.”

  Nathan chuckled. “How did you make friends with a gal like that?”

  “Some of the best people are hidden in the most unexpected places. Like you. Hell I hate everything about this horrible place, but you…You have gone out of your way to help me, you make me smile when I am sad, and I would probably wither up and die under all this abuse if you were not here to help me through it.”

  He nervously scratched his head. “Oh, uh, you’re welcome, but I think you’d survive anything with or without help. You’re strong and feisty and…” His breath was heightening, “and you’re funny, and hopeful, and…” His eyes locked on mine, “and you sure are pretty, too.”

  My heart heated up with, not love…maybe it was lust… Whatever the hell it was, it was the best thing I’d felt in a long time and I wanted more of it. Realizing Nathan could offer a satisfying escape within the walls I was confined to, I started walking towards him, slowly, emphasizing the sway of my hips.

  “What are you doing, Madam?” His eyes widened with horror.

  “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it feels righ
t.” I ran my hands down his chest and straddled his lap.

  “But, it isn’t.” He shook his head.

  I stuck my hand in his breeches. “Deny it all you wish, sweetheart, it is plain to feel that you are interested.”

  He closed his eyes and let out a satisfied moan as I stroked him.

  Prior to meeting me, I was certain Nathan Langley had never stepped outside his given commands, but today he finally broke the rules. And it was not just any rule he broke, oh no, he was having sex with the master’s wife in the chair at the desk that would soon be cleaned of all of her devil’s tools.

  Chapter 5

  Closed Curtains

  The thrill I’d found in the dangerous romance I’d been sharing with Nathan had kept me busy and happy for the last few months, but within a week of Joel’s return from Bristol, he had already reminded me how terrible my predicament was. With my cheek throbbing from the recent blow he served me, and my inner thighs still pounding from the way he violently forced himself between them, I watched the moon rise over the waterway and thought about the dangerous crossroads I had come to.

  My breasts were sensitive to the touch, I had been feeling sick every morning, and my monthly cycle was so far behind me that I knew I was with child. Joel had tried and tried to breed me like a dog, but unwilling to imagine the dreadful thought of his wish being granted, I could only hope it was Nathan who had succeeded.

  Either way, no one could know about this. Not even Nathan.

  I knew Nathan loved me, he told me all the time, and if I told him about the baby, he would run away with me, he would. But then what? I liked Nathan, I did, but I didn’t love him—possibly because it was simply not the right time, or maybe because I had been hurt too deeply to ever truly love another—but whatever the cause, I was not interested in extending our relationship beyond these walls. And even if I was, he did not have the courage to brave the shadows like I would now have to do. The dark and dreary path ahead was mine alone to venture.

  Mason had yet to return and I could no longer wait for anyone else to save me. I had to flee before my secret was exposed, and since the secret I harbored was one that only the devil and I knew about, it would remain uncharted in the wake of my mysterious disappearance.

  After braiding my hair back tight, I ran over to my secret hiding place. Early on, I had found a false panel behind the bookcase and stored my precious belongings behind it. Pulling back the panel, I set my eyes on the things that gave me hope. First, I looked at the letters Nathan had delivered to me all those months ago, starting with the letter Mason had sent to Barlow’s for me. I laughed about how Billy had told Nathan he would cut his head off if he did not see it safe into my hands, but considering the words, I would have allowed the punishment had it been lost.

  Remington Rain,

  Only a few months have gone by since I first saw your face, yet the time has passed slower than all the years before. It changes a man to find he has a daughter, and though you are grown and ready to wed, I can’t help but feel that you are still my child. Though it pains my old heart to know I missed out on your growing years, I’m ever so grateful to see that you have turned out so well. As much as I hate to admit it, it seems that the man who raised you has done a mighty fine job, and I can rest better at night knowing he has a good eye on you while I’m away.

  Things are taking much longer than planned, but I will return, my beautiful raindrop, and we will make up for time lost over a fine bottle of rum.

  -Mason Bentley-

  My eyes filled with so many tears, it was hard to read the words. I had come to terms with the way my mother no longer cared for me, and I was learning to accept the fact that my father Thomas was too busy with his young wife and his newfound wealth, but I still had Mason. And that was all I needed to know.

  Next, I took a quick glance at the letter Shannyn had sent. She had responded by drawing a raindrop and a heart, assuring me that she had indeed forgiven me, which meant I now had a place to go. No longer feeling so alone in this dreadful world, I sifted through my other items and prepared for my escape.

  Dressing in my Midnight attire guaranteed I had stealth on my side. Hanging my Black Hawke dagger from my belt reminded me I was strong and capable of defending myself. Stuffing the money Mason had left for me in the pocket of my red coat gave me hope for a better future. And donning the locket with his B on it solidified my place in the world. I was not Joel Addison’s puppet, no, no, I was Mason and Midnight’s daughter, and as I pulled the hood of my black cloak over my head, I smiled at my reflection. Like my buccaneer parents, I would soon walk free.

  When I had the chance to look out the window, I did every bit of what my master had feared; I planned and plotted. Watching the routine of the servants, timing the shadows as they cast upon the estate, and listening for every sound made by nature and mankind, I had spent the passing months mapping out my course accordingly.

  I knew Joel would be working late in his study tonight, and the sound of the maid heading down the stairs would be my signal. Soon enough, I heard her making her descent.

  Wandering over to the windows, I waited patiently for her to walk the path leading to the servant’s abode. Once she was out of my way, I took a deep breath. Heart beating rapidly in my chest, I snuck out into the hall.

  Slinking down the stairs—well aware of which ones creaked—I plotted each of my footfalls to avoid them. Creeping into one of the guest rooms on the second floor, I paused for a moment and listened to the sounds, then proceeded to sneak from room to room until I finally reached the less traveled stairwell near the back of the house. Once again timing my steps, I made it out to the yard without being seen or heard.

  Knowing well which path was safest to take without being noticed, I made my way through the dark and shadowy part of the garden, sweating in the cool night air. Finally reaching the gate leading to the waterway, I pulled out the ring of keys I had stolen from Joel. Clearly remembering the look of the one that opened this lock, I stuck it in the hole and turned it. Over the pounding of my rapid heartbeat it seemed extra loud when the mechanism broke loose. Nervous as I was, every little sound seemed amplified, but I knew the worst was yet to come.

  The gate.

  The cursed rotten gate would squeak every time it was opened. No matter the time of day, I could hear it from my room and knew this was going to be my greatest challenge. Normally, the men who passed through opened it quickly without worrying about the squeak, but I would have to go slow, and perhaps if I barely opened it at all and slipped through at the right angle, no one would hear or notice a thing…

  No such luck. The squeak whined like a thousand squawking bats releasing into the night.

  At this point I just had to hurry. If anyone was alarmed by the noise, my only hope was to be in the boat and rowing long before they arrived.

  Reaching the boat, I found it chained to the dock. The chain was locked. The boat was stuck. Shit! I had not expected this! Sifting through the ring of keys in a sweat covered panic, I tried one after the other, to no avail. What if the needed key wasn’t on here? What would I do then? I wished that I knew how to swim. Once again damning my mother for taking me from Mason—who would have taught me to swim if he had raised me—I looked up just in time to see Joel standing in the archway.

  Fear shot down my spine like a bolt of lightning, blasting my courage to bits.

  “Who goes there?” He stepped towards me with his musket aimed at my chest.

  Not wanting to be shot as a trespasser, I foolishly raised my hands to surrender. “It’s me, Remington.”

  “What do you think you’re doing out here, dressed like that?” Though he lowered his weapon, the impending doom billowing from his voice was far more frightful than the gun.

  Impishly, I stuttered, “Oh, nothing, I was…”

  He stepped closer. “You know you aren’t supposed to leave your room without my permission.”

  “I know, I just…I wanted to walk the garden.” I
spit out my pitiful lie.

  Grabbing my arm, he snarled, “You will be punished for this.”

  Punished? He was dragging me towards the gate. He would lock it behind me and there I would stay until God knows when. Behind those walls, my baby would be doomed to a life far worse than the one I was cursed to. No. No. I had come too far. Completely unwilling to see what punishment he had planned for me, I stopped in my tracks.

  Yanking my arm away from him, I asserted, “I don’t want to go back.”

  He looked at me like I had lost my mind and then slapped me across the face.

  My head jerked to the side, but being used to such abuse, I managed to keep my footing. Holding myself as steady as I could, I braced for the following blow, which ended with his hand wrapped tightly in my hair. A scream rose in my throat as he yanked me off of my feet, but fearing such a ruckus would draw a crowd, I managed to contain it.

  He cursed and grumbled as he dragged me towards the gate. Fearing the dreadful future Joel had in store for me and my baby, my body filled with an absurd degree of strength to defend us both.

  Gathering my footing, I stood up behind him. He wouldn’t let go of my hair. I started yanking my head away. He slapped me again. And again.

  Fear and determination filled my being, mixing into a dangerously powerful source of energy. As I punched him across the jaw I shouted, “I’m not going! You can kill me if you want, but you will cage me no longer.”

  Suddenly engaging in an all-out war of fists with Joel Addison—where my repetitive blows to his body seemed no more powerful than autumn leaves blowing in the breeze—I knew there was no turning back. This would be a fight to the death—his or mine—but either way, this story would not end with me back in that house.

  He lunged at me like a panther and shoved me to the ground. My back hit the wet grass so hard I almost lost my breath. When he grabbed me by the throat, I did.