His lies combined with Skye’s worries of Maxwell walking into another trap of Shears caused her to lash out. She slandered him with her words and reached out to hit him. Her hand connected with his face before he pulled back fast enough. Her palm slapped him solid across the cheek, with her fingernails following in the trails slicing down his neck.
This was exactly how he wanted her. Feisty. Angry. Ready for him to take. He grabbed the hand which left damage on his face and crushed her fist in his hand. He heard her whimper and smiled. As he pulled her against him, she came up short and her body jerked forward towards him. He released her instantly and her body rebounded backwards sending her sprawling across the floor. Her body lay spread out before him, the shirt he ripped earlier came apart from where she tied it together. Her breasts fell out and laid gleaming for his touch.
He ripped the placket of his pants open, his shirt falling out over his trousers. This would be his ultimate pleasure. He pulled his sword out of the sheath and traced it down her pants. His wicked smile showing his intent.
She tried to push herself back across the floor, her palms pushing through the trash as her feet slid across the floorboards. She watched as he drew his sword out and realized his intentions. He meant to rape her and destroy what sanity she had remaining.
His sword swiped across cutting her trousers to shreds, leaving her body bare to his eyes. Her hands lowered to cover herself from his view. Eyes which were devouring her body filling with lust. She managed to rise to her feet, inching back from him. Every step she took backwards, he advanced on her. He cornered her, and her only defense were her fists. They pummeled him, but only bounced off him doing no harm. When her leg kicked up and found the one spot to undo him, he roared with pain. In doing so only angered him more.
“You bitch,” he yelled as his fist connected with her face. The force sent her head flying back and hitting the wall. He wasn’t finished yet, he was tired of these women thinking they held more power over him. This slut would make up for all the ladies who escaped his clutches. When her head regained its holding, he smacked out and hit her again. When she slumped against the wall and slid down, he picked her up throwing her over his shoulder. She never gave up though, she was feisty. Her fists punched his back, still she remained no match for him. As he yanked her restraint off her ankle, he strolled to the bed and threw her across. She tried to escape off the mattress, but her hands became tangled in the dirty sheets. He pulled her by her ankles and slid her back to him. Shears held her still with his hands.
His hands were iron holds on her wrists and ankles as he held her to the bed. Skye grasped his full intention, there was no way she would let him win. She would fight him to the end. When he ripped off what remained of her chemise, she continued to cry for help. She let out a blood-curdling scream, hoping to bring somebody from the ship to help her. Maybe what he spoke was true and Maxwell was coming for her. Maybe he was aboard the ship now. When Shears only laughed at her scream, she yelled louder and bucked her body from his unwanted touches. When his filthy hands tried to part her thighs, Skye managed to come to a sitting position and ram her head into his chest, pushing him back from her. This only angered him more and his hands gripped her thighs spreading them wider.
“Why fight the inevitable my dear. We were meant to do this since the beginning. I allowed you to lead me on your merry cat-and-mouse game for months. Now I will finish what you began.”
“You will regret this Shears. Now let me make myself clear, this is a promise not a threat,” Skye repeated the words he uttered to her hours ago.
Shears laughed as he began to slide between her thighs. Skye trembled from the fear of being taken against her will. She tried to blank her mind to this violation but was unable to find a calm place in her soul. There was nowhere peaceful for the mind to wander with Shears’s act of violence. Silent tears streamed down her face betraying her fear to this man.
Before either one of them realized what was happening, Shears was thrown off her and flew across the room. His body slamming into the wall. When Skye began to understand her release, a man advanced on Shears pulling him off the floor to slam him back down again. This was repeated with kicks to his injured side. Skye saw the blood which only seeped before, flowing out of Shears’s side. When she looked towards her savior, she saw a man she had never seen before. A man bent on murder. A man out for revenge. The worst kind of man. It was a man avenging the woman he cared for, perhaps even loved.
Maxwell.
Maxwell was crazed. He knew he should quit pummeling this asshole to death. He couldn’t remove the image from his mind of Shears between Skye’s thighs, raping her. This man deserved nothing except death. Death at his hands. He would avenge Skye and every woman this slime ever touched. His fist connected with bone over and over again, but the man only laughed. He kicked him in the side which caused a reaction out of him. Shears gasped for breath. So, Maxwell repeated the action. Then before he realized, he wrapped his fingers around Shears’s neck, choking off the very breath the man was gasping for. His hold tightened, watching as the man turned purple as his hands clawed at his fists. Still, Maxwell would not let go. Small hands wrapped around his fingers, peeling them back from Shears’s throat. He felt the tears splashing upon his tightened fingers.
“Stop,” she whispered.
“No,” his fingers tried to tighten more, but only intertwined with hers.
“Please Zane,” she croaked out between her tears.
“He deserves to die.”
“He will, but not at your hands.”
“How can you ask me to stop, after what he did to you?”
“I am fine, please he has information we need.”
Her fingers continued to pry his fingers loose. Her willpower was the only thing pulling him off Shears. She guided him away from the man. He looked at her and swore at her state of undress. Maxwell ripped the shirt off over his head, pulling it over her body and brought her into his arms. Holding her to his heart. Her tears poured along his chest as her body shook. He gathered her tighter into his arms. Maxwell swung around and watched as Shears regained his breathing. His side covered in blood soaked the floor around them. The devil would bleed out, a fitting death, for the Captain. He rested his boot on the man’s chest and pressed deeper into his lungs. Shears fought for breath and Maxwell ground his foot more.
“The bitch is mistaken if she thinks I will give you any more information on your loved ones,” Shears choked out.
“I have all the information I need,” Maxwell told him with a final kick to his side.
Maxwell watched in pleasure as Captain Shears took his final breath before his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He realized Skye was too wrapped up in her own grief to know the despicable man was dead. He turned to carry her out of her terror, encountering Thornhill at the door. Thorn looked over Maxwell’s shoulder and then back at him. Maxwell nodded his head at Thorn’s unspoken question. The villain who terrorized them over the last year was dead. While not completely at his hands, but as a result of them.
Thorn stepped aside for Maxwell to leave the cabin. He followed them as they climbed the stairs to leave the ship. When Maxwell came topside, he saw Thorn’s men rounding Shears’s crew into captivity. Mallory was rushing him, with Raina pulling on his arm. He understood the man was furious for putting Raina’s life in jeopardy. Right now, he didn’t care. The only person who mattered was Skye. Her body shook in his arms. Her quivers turning into full body spasms as her mind replayed over and over her terror.
Maxwell shook his head at Mallory, “Later,” he told him as his eyes lowered to Skye and back to Mallory.
Mallory acknowledged Maxwell with putting his hands up in the air in surrender. He viewed the devastation held in Maxwell’s arms. He was angry at Maxwell for allowing Raina to help him on Shears's ship. Mallory was also man enough to admit that without Raina’s help, Maxwell wouldn’t be holding Skye MacKinnon alive. He met the brave woman a few days ago to witne
ss her demise to a mere slip of a girl. These were entirely two different women. He only hoped Shears didn’t destroy her. He glanced up and saw his friend on the verge of crumbling.
Maxwell felt the tears coming to his eyes as he held the woman he loved. Her beautiful face and body covered in fresh bruises. She earned those by fighting for her life. Her body kept trembling and any small noise around them made her jump.
Maxwell carried her across the plank to Thornhill’s ship and down to the cabins. He laid her across his bed, bringing his hand up to comfort her. His fingers slid into her long mane of hair spread across the pillow. She whimpered and pulled back from him. Her green eyes widening with fear in her pale face.
“Shh, it is me Zane,” he tried to comfort her.
Her only reply was to whimper. Maxwell felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to discover that Raina followed them into the cabin. She tried pulling him from the bed, only to meet his resistance.
“Zane leave her to me. She is reacting to you because any man to her is Shears. Her mind cannot tell the difference. Give her time, for her mind to adjust to her surroundings. I promise you I will take good care of her.”
Zane nodded his head at her words. He knew she was right, but it didn’t stop him from wanting to stay with her. He wanted to be the one to heal her. Raina pulled him away from Skye and walked him out of the cabin. She called for supplies for Skye’s wounds and a fresh bath. He stood outside the cabin, he would go no further than this from her. While he couldn’t be inside, he would be near. Just in case she wanted him.
He stood on guard as Sammy came to the door with supplies. When Thorn’s men carried buckets of water and a bathtub into the room, he followed them inside the cabin. He wanted to protect her from the fear of seeing men, only to notice Raina thought of the possibility of Skye’s fear. The bed shrouded with bed hangings kept Skye shielded from any prying eyes. He stepped back out in the hallway with a relieved sigh. He should have known Raina would protect her. The woman always had every detail covered. There he remained through the nightfall and the following day. Supplies and food were delivered and then carried away the entire time. He never removed himself from the post outside her room. Even when he heard their whispers and Skye’s tears reaching through the door. He wanted to rush in and hold her in his arms. Still, he stood and guarded her from afar.
Thorn and Mallory tried to persuade him to join them for meals, but he refused their offers. He waited for any sign from her that she needed him, but none ever came. When Raina exited the room late the next day, Maxwell was at his wit’s end for any news about Skye.
“She is finally resting. I gave her a sedative in her tea,” Raina informed him.
“How is she?”
“Her body is recovering. She will be fine after she rests. The terrors in her mind will take longer to heal.”
“I want to see her.”
“Maxwell, she isn't ready to see you or any man. You need to give her time to heal.”
Maxwell raked his fingers through his disheveled hair, an act he repeated countless times throughout the night.
“You stated she is resting, I only want to see with my own eyes that she is well.”
Raina saw Maxwell as a man undone by the destruction of a woman he loves. A lady unable to understand love at this moment. It was a love which could only frighten her. Raina knew Skye to be fast asleep and wouldn’t rise for hours. She needed a small respite herself. If she allowed Maxwell to sit with Skye, it could help him with his own grief.
“You may sit with her for a couple of hours while I change and rest. If for any reason you see she is awakening, you must leave immediately. Do you promise?”
“I promise,” Maxwell swore to her.
He squeezed her hands in his with undying gratitude to her for taking care of Skye. He was too choked to put his emotions into words. Raina squeezed his hands back in understanding.
Maxwell walked into the cabin. He pulled a chair next to the bed and settled to watch Skye sleep. Dark bruises covered her face. Her lips were split open and a small crust of blood coated them. Maxwell tightened his hold on the armchair. He remained furious and wanted to kill Shears all over again. He was angry he couldn’t hold her in his arms and soothe away her aches and pains.
Her hair swam around her face framing her in the shadows. He saw in her sleep her fingers held on tightly to the quilt. He raised his hand, wanting to unwrap them from the blanket and hold them, but knew it could frighten her awake. So, his hand hovered above hers, feeling the heat of her body wrap around his fingers. Feeling Skye.
He pulled the chair closer and lowered his head to lay next to her hands. He watched her as she slept. Secure in the knowledge that she was safe. The tears streamed down his face unnoticed as her pain seeped into his soul. Soaking deep inside, drowning him in fear and heartache. His tears soaked the quilt, but he didn’t notice. All he took notice of was her. Skye, he whispered over and over in his head. Maxwell only hoped she could hear what his heart was shouting silently to her.
Chapter Twelve
SKYE AWOKE A FEW hours later, the room was dark except for a small lantern next to the bed. The flame danced shadows on the dark wall. She became startled, unaware of where she laid. Her heart settled, as her eyes wandered the room and her memories returned to her. She was aboard Thornhill’s ship and Raina Mallory took care of her.
Her hand smoothed the quilt at her side. It was wet, and her fingers slid back and forth over the wetness, wondering at its appearance. When she closed her eyes, a flashback of a dream drifted into her conscious. It was of Zane resting at her side with tears coursing from his eyes. Skye wished to speak to him, but no words came out. Opening her eyes, she shook her head wondering if it was only a dream. As her fingers continued to stroke the quilt, she recognized it to be no dream, but the truth. He had been in her room while she slept.
Her fingers shook. Why did he not hold her? Did he not want to touch her after Shears had his hands on her? Was he disgusted with her? If so, why the tears?
Skye tried to rise from the bed, wincing at the pain her body suffered. She pulled the blanket from her body and took stock of her injuries. There was not a single spot on her body not covered in bruises or cuts. With shaking limbs, she rose and walked to the chair pulled up next to her bed. She lowered her hand to touch the warm cushion. From him. He must have only left moments ago. She knew it to be him because she sensed him. He may not have embraced her, but she remembered how the touch of his arms felt embracing her.
She settled in the chair and soaked in his essence. The arms of the chair reminded her of his arms holding her. She was afraid to see him. Afraid to see any man. She overheard the men come in to fill up the bathtub and the old man who brought in nourishment for her, but Raina kept her hidden from their eyes. Just hearing a man’s voice brought every memory back to her. Her body shook with fear; which was ridiculous. For the source of her fear was dead. She watched Maxwell kill him while he held her in his arms. Her mind departed from her body long before Shears’s death. She only allowed Maxwell to hold her as they left the ship because she was too numb. Her mind finally went to the place which allowed her to escape her horror.
When the room grew chilly around her and she realized the warmth of Zane also left, she rose to wander around the room. It was a small cabin and held few personal effects. It held startling differences from the room she previously occupied and comforted her. While the other room held terror, this only offered her solace. It was a neutral environment, one that reflected her.
Skye ran her fingers along the edge of the wall as she walked in circles around and around the small room. This helped to ease the aches and pains from her body with movement. Also, allowing the repetition to soothe her mind and bring her thoughts into focus. It was silly to fear every man. For the one man who brought terror to the forefront of her mind, only harmed her with words and his fists. He didn’t finish his final act of violation; Maxwell made sure of that. While he nearly succee
ded, the only thought replaying in her mind was, he failed. She understood it would take her awhile to come to terms with the violence done to her mind and body. She would recover. Even in death, he wouldn’t succeed in turning her into a broken woman. She was injured, but not broken.
When a light knock sounded on the door, Skye jumped at the noise. After her heart quieted, she walked to the door, laying her ear against the panel she whispered, “Yes?”
“It is I, Raina. May I enter?”
Skye turned the knob and held the door open briefly for Raina to slide into the room. She backed away, turning from the woman’s prying eyes.
Raina understood how Skye felt. Her sense of pride was broken, and she wanted nobody to witness the loss of strength she sustained. She hoped to ease the young woman’s feelings.
“I have brought a change of clothes for you and Sammy is bringing a bite to eat. Is there anything else you need for your comfort?”
Skye turned towards the kind woman, ashamed at her injured pride overcoming her gratitude. If not for this lady, she wouldn’t have survived her ordeal. She would have gone crazy from the images flashing through her mind.
“I thank you.”
“No need to thank me. I am glad to be of help. How are you feeling?”
Skye breathed a long sigh, “Believe it or not, I am well.”
“This is wonderful news to hear. We shall sail into port soon, Thornhill will have a doctor examine your injuries as soon as we dock.”
“There will be no need. I have no broken bones, and these cuts and bruises will heal on their own.”
Raina didn’t know how to bring up the delicate subject of why the doctor needed to examine her. It appeared sleep helped the girl recover from certain aspects of her ordeal. Her eyes were brighter, and she didn’t appear as skittish, but looks could be deceiving. But the matter needed to be addressed, and she was the only lady on board. None of the men would be able to discuss the sensitive issue without bashing it. Raina cringed at the discussion she must have with a lady she didn’t even know well, but it must be discussed.
Rescued By the Scot Page 12
