Saved By The Pirate (Book One)

17. The Things We Hear

Me? Of all things they could talk about, they chose me for the topic of discussion?

Being a cocky man, you would think that Christopher might want to hang the death threat above his head, but no. They decide to discuss sweet little oh me. But little did they know I was right there, listening to every word.

"I's didn't do anythin'," snapped Skip.

"Oh, don't give me that!" That didn't sound anything like Christopher. And I was considering the thought of another person down there with them, but suddenly, I heard the familiar chuckle.

"I find it quite humorous that I gave you a home and a chance to make a fortune, and you planned on stabbing me in the back! Quite literally, I do say!" Said Christopher, howling with laughter. There was silence on Skip's part for a moment or so.

Until he said, "It be the girl. She be plannin' the whole thin' from the beginnin'. Who are ye goin' te trust, the girl or yer second mate?"

I could have killed him right there and then. He was just asking for it, but I wanted to see Christopher's face first.

So, ever so slowly, I walked the rest of the way down the stairs and stopped at the last step. Since the wall beside me protected me, it gave me a side view of Christopher and the jail cell on the same wall.

He was leaning on a couple of nearby barrels, playing with his dagger - that sharp, scary dagger. I thought he was trying to look intimidating (like he wasn't already), maybe trying to show Skip what he had on his mind.

But Skip didn't seem to notice because he kept on talking. "When the lass first arrived, she..."

Blah, blah, blah. I was getting bored with this, and I could guess from the look on Christopher's face, he was too, but yet he stood there, listening.

My feet began to hurt from standing there, and I was afraid I would get caught, so when Christopher wasn't looking, and Skip got deeper into his story, I dove behind two barrels that were closest to me. Luckily, no one noticed.

When Skip finished his story (his very long story), he sighed, reassuring himself that he would be safe, but the pirate must have forgotten who he was talking to because, like a panther, Christopher attacked.

"Are you mentally deformed, Skip?" Asked Christopher. Skip thinned his lips, but said in a small voice 'no.' Christopher smirked. "Then surely you must think me stupid."

Again, Skip said no in a small, barely audible voice. Even from where I was, I could see the little glitter of sweat on his forehead. There was the Christopher I knew.

"So why do you tell this nonsense?"

Skip opened and then closed his mouth, deciding better. That only made Christopher seem more pantherlike. "Interesting, a man who is so good at lies is suddenly out of them," he purred. His words were icy, and I couldn't help but shiver.

Skip looked like he was melting on the spot, even though he was trying his best to keep his tough pirate act. He didn't say anything for a while, so Christopher continued.

"Look here scoundrel; I'm going to make one thing clear so even you can understand." Suddenly, he took his dagger and stabbed it into the barrel beside him. Then he walked to Skip's cell and grabbed his tunic, pulling Skip close.

"If you ever disrespect her in that manner. I don't care if it's even in conversation; I can promise you a slow and painful death. Don't forget you slimeball that I'm the one steering this ship, and I control what's in your future." Skip clenched his teeth, but he didn't dare cry. "Do I make myself clear?" Christopher growled.

All it took was one nod for Christopher to smirk and release Skip. "Adequate," Christopher said and walked back to get his dagger. He picked it up, cleaned it off, and put it back on his belt. Then he turned back to Skip, who was looking right at him with hatred.

"I suggest you find something to do. You're going to be here for a while," and then Christopher walked off to the stairs where he suddenly came to a stop just as he was about to climb the first step.

"Anne." He said it plainly. Not as a question, not as an order, but a simple statement. I gulped as he looked over his shoulder, expressionless.

I flashed a weak smile. "Yes, sir, Captain, sir?"

***

"Damn him," I mumbled under my breath and began cutting the carrot into pieces, pretending it was him. I tossed the remains of the vegetable in the pot of boiling water and started looking for potatoes—a sack of them sat in the corner next to the furnace. I grabbed a few and brought them back over to where I had my knife and began to peel them.

'What's for dinner?" That voice. That voice is of whom gave me the order to cook after catching me where I wasn't supposed to be - the same one that threatened Skip. That voice belonged to Christopher. My kidnapper.

"You, so do me a favor and die so I can prepare you," I threatened, not turning around.

"You want me to strip off my clothes first?" Christopher teased, the mischief rolling off his tongue that I wanted to cut off. I tightened the knife in hand just in case.

"I'll boil you alive, whether you're naked or not, so hop right on in, will you?"

That seemed to get his attention. The floorboards creaked as he walked to me, and I had to hold my breath to prevent myself from turning around.

He came to a stop just behind me. "Why were you in the supply room, Anne?" He said calmly. His breath warmed my neck, and my breathing hitched. If I just took a step back, I would press against that broad chest of his, so I stayed where I was, and continued to peel my potato, and tried not to think about it. "Hmm?" He murmured into my ear. I gulped.

"You were talking about me," I said, trying to stay brave. "I had to be there."

He stayed silent for a moment while I was wondering how long it would take to finish peeling this potato with him standing there. Answer: forever.

Finally, he answered. "So, all I need to do is about you, and you'll appear?" I was considered the question before answering.

"Yup, so watch what you say about me, you sea dog." My voice was shaking, but I continued to peel that damn potato even if it was killing me.

I felt him chuckle softly. "Yes, ma'am." His breath tickled my ear and made goosebumps appear on my arms. Just the sound of his voice made me want to faint. What was happening to me?

"Can you get me some more wood?" I asked, hoping he'd leave so I could steady my thoughts. I was beginning to get light-headed, and I knew he was to blame. For some bloody reason, he was the one to point the finger too.

He chuckled again, and once more, I felt his breath tickle my ear. "Anything for you, darling," he purred and left. With him gone, I felt cold even though I was just a couple feet away from a burning furnace.

I didn't like the feeling at all.

"What is he doing to me?" I said to myself, knowing nobody was around but me. I was losing my mind; I must be. That man had more tricks up his sleeve then I gave him credit. He knew what he was doing.

Any man that charming must know what he was doing to make me feel the way I felt - to make any woman feel that way.

That question circled my head until Christopher came back, and when I turned to look at him, I saw he had a few logs in his arms and a bloodied cheek.

***
Hey readers! Sorry I haven't posted in a while, I was a little busy, but I'll do my best to keep updating.  I appreciate you guys for making it this far in my book! There's going to be more twists and turns and of course, sarcasm because who doesn't want that? Why do you think Christopher's bleeding? Why do you think Anne's feeling this way towards him? And how do you feel about it all? 

Please comment, vote, and lastly, share!😁

---Author