Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72233 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Noooo!” Wendy fell to her knees in a pool of blood.
He toppled forward, landing painfully on what was left of his arm. A dark-haired man kicked away what was left of James’ right hand.
“What have you done?” Wendy’s screams were all he could hear as they dragged her away.
Blood pulsed from his wrist, the violent rhythm mocking the steady beat of his still-pumping heart and the air burning his exposed bone and sinew. Looking up at his brother, he had no choice but to plead for mercy. He couldn’t bear her to witness what would surely come next.
James sputtered and choked out one final request, “Take her away. Don’t let her watch.”
Peter glanced at his men and flicked his hand.
“No! You can’t do this! James! Please!” Wendy’s screams grew more and more hysterical until they finally disappeared.
The pain swallowed him whole. It was a cruel ending and one he probably deserved. His brother’s black shadow fell over him, blocking out the light. He kicked the severed hand aside. “Now, you’ll never lay a hand on her again.”
James rolled to his back, staring up at the sky as he choked on the blood flooding his lungs. His mind raced over his regrets, but none were associated with Wendy. Knowing her had changed him in more ways than a weapon ever could, and her sweet touch would be the last thought he had.
The sound of fighting faded as his men came to his aide. “Cap’n!”
The world narrowed to a white-hot pinhole.
“Sir, stay with us!”
“He’s losing too much blood!”
Shutting the concern of his crew out, he closed his eyes, imagining her hands on him again. James… I’ll never leave you…
“Sir, stay with us.”
James smiled, picturing her sweet blue eyes looking up at him.
“Sir, can you hear me?”
A white light blocked the sound as his body went numb. “Hush, darling…” He let out a long, wheezing sigh. “To die…would be…an adventure.”
Chapter 15
The Cageling
Wendy closed the door to the nursery, but her father’s booming voice penetrated the rafters and the walls. Whatever he initially thought of Peter, the illusion was gone.
Her walk of shame was not a discreet one. Peter brought her home in James’ shirt and coat, and her parents assumed the worst. The evidence of her poor choices was still fresh on her skin. And there was no hiding the blood on their clothes. James’s blood.
Peter tried to clean her up, but she flinched away from his touch, refusing to let him put a hand on her.
“Fine, you explain it to your parents then,” he’d snapped.
He didn’t care about helping her. He only cared about not getting caught.
In the end, Peter accused James of everything, painting himself as a hero. But her father wasn’t that gullible. He knew pieces to the puzzle were missing. When he demanded explanations, Peter teetered between playing the polite gentleman and showing his true colors—unaccountable and above criticism.
Wendy didn’t care what he said anymore. The memory of Peter stabbing his brother in the back and Bayne cutting off James’ hand would haunt Wendy forever. They left him there. Bleeding.
She fought as hard as she could to get back to him, but they drugged her in the end. If not for the clothes on her back, the scent of James on her skin, and her father screaming below, she might have believed it was only a dream.
But it wasn’t a dream. And now her life had become a nightmare.
Pressing her face to the cool wood of her bedroom door, she tried to drown out her father’s shouting as he took his fury out on Peter. She wondered what other lies he’d tell to skirt any blame.
The thought of lies made her think of James and how he only wanted the truth, no matter how ugly, unsavory, or raw. He might live the life of a pirate, but he was a far more honest man than his brother.
The rafters shook as her father raised his voice again. Peter responded to his shouting with some tale about how he had been by her side the entire time and done everything possible to keep her safe.
“Why not just tell the truth,” she whispered, thinking about how Peter had blown her off the moment she refused to sleep with him.
What did it matter anyway? It was over. She was home. She was never going to see James again.
Staggering back from the door, she collapsed on her bed and closed her eyes, pressing a hand to her heart as she tried in vain to connect with James in some spiritual way. But she felt nothing. It was as if he’d never existed at all.
The door clicked, and all thoughts of James scattered to the wind like unspeakable secrets.
“Wendy?” She wiped her eyes as her mother entered the room carrying a tray with a glass of water and a small white pill. “My poor child.”