From what she could gather, several of them were curious about the existence of a woman on their ship. Kira shivered. She could not lock the door from the inside. She was defenseless.
The conversation grew more raucous and she could hear someone start to speak to her through the door. “Come out, sugar. You're the first woman companion we've ever had on board.”
Boisterous laughter followed and then complete silence. She wondered what had startled them, then heard him. “On deck...NOW!” And then a scrambling followed.
Kira sat upright. She felt a jolt of electricity sizzle up her spine, and she realized she was running her hands through her matted hair to smooth it out. Kira shook herself out of it. Whoever this man was, he had purchased her. There was no way around that. Whether it happened now, or later, there was only one way for this to end.
Still, a blush covered her cheeks and she prayed to God he didn't walk through that door.
Another Surprise
He swung the door open forcefully. His masculine frame filled the doorway and Kira felt her whole body tense up. That rugged, hairy chest that had seemed so intimidating in the street, now seemed threatening and dangerously powerful.
He squinted his eyes at her. His hair was light blonde and the thickness of it seemed to shine in the light from the porthole. Kira tried not to stare, but her terror mingled with awe and she could not help herself. He had full lips, a distinguished nose and eyes that seemed to glow as he looked at her.
They both seemed to realize they were staring and awkwardly broke eye contact. Kira remembered her fear, and inched closer to the back of the bed. “You'll have to earn your keep if you're to stay here. That's my bed you're in.”
Kira's face flushed brightly and she scurried to the edge of the bed, still keeping distance between them. “I...” Kira broke off. She didn't know what to say. Did he expect her to apologize?
He seemed to realize her mortification and his mouth tightened tersely. “It's fine.” He looked around the room, as if at a loss, glanced once more at her and then walked out the door. “Malcolm will give you your orders.” And then he was gone.
* * *
The next few days brought Kira slowly out of her cabin. The realization that she had been sleeping in his bed covered her with a dark feeling of shame.
She felt cheap and wanton. And then she felt ridiculous for even thinking those thoughts since she'd had no choice in the matter.
Soon, she learned that Malcolm was the ship's cook, and probably the least threatening sailor aboard. He was rotund and aging, with a matter-of-fact way of speaking and spectacles tilted on the edge of his nose.
Malcolm instructed her regarding basic chores that were to be hers. She peeled potatoes below deck and sometimes cleaned the deck floor.
For the most part, she was able to avoid the prying eyes of the other sailors, but occasionally a curious face would poke itself into the galley while she was at work. Her saving grace was Malcolm's constant presence, which seemed to keep the sailors from making any advances.
Kira's thoughts were like a runaway train. She could not imagine how someone like Malcolm could work for the sailor. Maybe she had Malcolm all wrong. She knew that a gentle exterior could often bely a more dangerous soul. Yet, she felt at ease in his presence.
He had a fatherly grace about him that made her miss her papa bitterly. She went over that day on the docks repeatedly in her mind, peeling potatoes and trying to convince herself that her father hadn't been lying there dead when they'd dragged her away.
Had he been? Was he gone? Forever removed from her life without even a kiss goodbye? It was almost too much for Kira to bear. She thought of her own safety, feeling on guard at all hours of the day, while trying to ignore the stabbing ache in her gut when she thought of her papa's bloodied body.
The exhaustion of it all made her want to weep, which she did as quietly as possible at night. She could not show weakness. They already knew they could take what they wanted from her body and she would have no defense.
“Hello in there...” Malcolm's voice came through the fog of Kira's whirling thoughts. She looked up to realize the potato she was peeling had been whittled down to almost nothing. “Ohh...I'm sorry,” Kira offered hastily.
“Something on your mind?”
“No...” Kira lied, uncertain if she could trust him.
Malcolm smiled. “Could have fooled me. I must be losing my head in my old age.”
Kira smiled tersely, realizing the sailor was trying to set her at ease.
“How long have you been on the ship?”
Malcolm's eyes showed a slight look of amusement. “Well, they do let us on land occasionally, but I've been sailing with the Reliance for 8 years.”
Kira nodded, focusing her eyes on an unruly potato.
Suddenly, Marcus' low voice broke through. “I see we've got ourselves another hand.”
Kira jumped, visibly nervous at Marcus' presence. She turned to see the gorgeous blonde sailor smiling in her direction. His smile unnerved her completely.
The scariest thing about him was the natural allure he had. He could have been the most evil man on the planet and still, she felt sure he could have charmed the pants off most anyone.
“Has she been behaving, Malcolm?”
Malcolm nodded, uninterested in the tense dynamics in the room. “Yes, Captain. A good little worker.”
Kira felt herself blushing. She couldn't understand the situation. She didn't know where she stood or what this man expected from his “purchase.” What she did know was that his strong, muscular body sent fear through her. She was no match for him. Not for any of them.
Marcus noted the fearful look in her eyes and tried to make sense of it. He had rescued her, hadn't he? Still, she looked like a frightened animal, terrified for its life.
Slipping around the large table in the galley, he took a step towards her. She turned her big blue eyes on him, paralyzed with fear. Marcus felt a knot tighten in his gut at the panic he saw written on her face.
“You ever peel potatoes at home?” He asked softly, trying to ease her anxiety.
Kira blinked slowly, wondering what he was doing.
“I...sometimes...”
“On the docks,” Marcus said, looking at her intently. “I saw you there.”
Yes, you did, Kira thought. Mortification overtook her at the way she'd romanticized him. She had no idea she'd end up belonging to him.
Marcus felt frustration at the way she ignored him. He studied her beautiful profile, now turned away from him.
“Malcolm, give us a moment.” He just wanted to make her see. He was the good guy. He couldn't stand that look of horror that she threw in his direction every time he walked in the room.
“Look at me.”
Kira felt tension flooding her muscles. Malcolm was gone. He'd been the only thing keeping her from a total meltdown. Now, she felt her hand shaking softly as she stared at the wall.
“Look at me.” His voice was dark, threatening. Kira tried to force herself to look up at him, but her body was shaking and she couldn't move.
Suddenly, his rough hands were gripping her shoulders, turning her in his direction. Kira let out a scream, squeezing her eyes closed and thrusting her bent arms between them. Kira waited for what seemed like an eternity, but nothing happened.
Slowly, she opened her eyes to see his masculine face studying her intently. Kira breathed heavily, watching his green eyes rove over her face. She felt like helpless prey in the sight line of a powerful predator. Why couldn't she look away?
“Why are you scared?” he said lowly, his voice raw.
It seemed so obvious. Was he playing a trick on her? Kira felt embarrassment well up. She could hardly get the words out.
“I know what kind of men buy and sell women on the open sea,” Kira breathed, her eyebrows tightening with emotion. “I know what to expect.” She gulped slowly, her arms starting to hurt from his grip. For a mo
ment, Kira felt anger push down the fear and she looked him squarely in the eye.
“The kind of man you are doesn't deserve to exist! You're evil. Pure evil!” She cocked her head with a furious, proud tilt and watched as his face turned bright with rage. He released her arms, his greens eyes spitting fire.
“You ungrateful little...” his angry face was just inches from hers now, his jaw jutting harshly in her direction.
“You don't know a thing about me!” he growled. “You think just 'cause you're young and beautiful every man wants you?! Think again, sweetie!”
He practically bellowed in her face, then turned and disappeared down the hall. Kira stared after him in shock, her eyes full of confusion. This man was insane!
* * *
Kira woke early to get started on the deck. She tried her best to avoid the galley during meal times, for fear she would be noticed. She was also terrified she would see him.
She felt the strangest mix of emotions: guilt, terror, hatred and desire. How could she loathe someone so much, yet alternate between wanting him close and fearing his presence? She felt mortified that this might show on her face when he was near, so she tried her hardest to stay out of sight.
As it were, it happened to be fairly simple to do so. He never sought her out and she hardly ever ran into him during her duties. Kira began to wonder if she could relax. Was she wrong to imagine so much danger nearby?
She took her bucket and rags to the deck, ready to clean with haste. She never felt totally safe out there alone, unsure who might walk up behind her.
Kira worked steadily away, glancing over her shoulder frequently. She tried to keep her dress from getting too dirty, but she was on her knees on a deck that was walked day and night.
“I wondered when you was comin' up to see me...” Kira heard a dull voice with a slow drawl from behind. Kira was on her feet in a flash, her hands crossed over her body. She found herself face to face with an ugly sailor wearing a large scar that was etched into his cheek.
He was hardly taller than she was, but his thick arms and beefy body were intimidating enough. He was balding and smelled as if he hadn't ever bathed. “Don't touch me,” Kira sputtered, stepping backwards towards the hull.
The sailor with the pungent odor smiled widely, seemingly delighted by her fear. “Oh, if I want to touch you, I'm not sure there's a lot you can do about it.” He chuckled to himself, swirling his doughy palm across his belly. Kira glanced across the deck, hoping for some sign of another sailor. Anyone that might intervene. She saw no one.
“My name's George.” He continued to grin his self-indulgent, menacing grin into her terrified face. Kira felt herself backing into the hull, with no where to run. The thought crossed her mind that screaming would only be helpful if the sailors had a code of ethics. Did they? She didn't know.
Kira tried to move around him, but his fleshy hand dug into her arm and pinned her to the wall. “There, there...not 'til we're done talking.” Kira nearly gagged as his foul breathe streamed across her face. So this is it, she thought. She'd made it through so much only to have a lecherous, smelly sailor catch her alone.
Suddenly, his hands were all over her, roving up and down her body, pinning her to the wall. He pushed and prodded and Kira did her best to fight him off. “Noooo!” she screamed desperately, wishing for a moment that the Nordic sailor were here.
Would he let this happen? George smacked her hard across the mouth, then grabbed her firmly around the waist.
She could feel George trying to kiss her neck, when she saw the blonde sailor fly at him from behind. “Argghhh!” She heard him bellow. In an instant, George was on the ground and the sailor had him pinned down, showering him with blows.
A curious group of sailors flew onto the deck, eyes wide. Some intervened, shouting, “Captain!” and trying to separate the sailor from his filthy prey.
Kira watched in amazement and horror as they tried to pry him off. George was a bloody, blubbery mess, trying pitifully to cover his head with his sausage-like fingers. The blonde sailor's fervor had not diminished and he continued to try to batter George as three sailors pulled him off.
Kira felt relief. He would protect her. Was he saving her for himself? She didn't know, but for now, that was enough. She fought back tears as the wound on her face started to sting. The mix of pain, relief and gratitude had her overwhelmed. She looked up at him, trying not to cry.
Then he pointed at her. “YOU. Downstairs now!”
Some Kind of Rescue
Kira hurried into the bunk, terrified once again. Was this it? Is this how he chose to claim his prize? Kira shuddered. She felt so utterly powerless, so helpless. So confused. She didn't know if she should thank him, kiss him or run as far away as she could. The truth was, there was no running. Not in here.
His large body moved through the door with a powerful ease. And then it was only the two of them. Kira stared through his heaving chest where the door should be. There was no way out.
“What did you do?,” he boomed.
“What?” Kira didn't understand. She felt flustered. Does he think I did this? Does he think this is my fault? Suddenly, she could feel his hands running softly down her arms, as he hovered over her, breathing heavily. Kira shuddered.
Her whole body tingled with delight and alarm. Part of her felt like she could melt into the floor. “I...I didn't do anything...” She whispered, barely able to speak as his hands caressed her softly. She stared at the floor, terrified. Should she want this? She knew she did.
“Look at me.” His voice was gentle, soothing. She looked up, into his beautiful eyes. They seemed to pore into her. She tried to turn her gaze away but she couldn't. His brow furrowed as he took in her face.
He noted her large blue eyes, looking frightened as ever, and the perfect line of her aquiline nose. But his eyes settled gently on her soft, pink lips. She felt self-consciousness overcome her and blinked rapidly.
He took his rough hand and gently traced the line of her face, over the place where she had been struck. She felt the tender pain of bruising, and the sharp ache of an open wound. The sailor pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tenderly touched the wound.
Kira winced. This slight pain was reminding her of every other ache on her body. The bruises from the pirate's vice grip, the cringing sensation she felt when she remembered George's paws all over her.
Suddenly, Kira realized there were tears running down her face. She couldn't stop it. She had told herself she wouldn't let herself be weak, not in front of him. But now...
His eyes widened, his face somewhat alarmed. She looked up to see his mouth tighten, and then watched as his tongue ran quickly over his lips. Before she could stop him, his mouth was covering hers, pulling her in. She felt his huge, powerful arms holding her tightly against his chest.
Her lips were soft, pliant and she was so very willing to let him take her softly with his hard mouth. The sailor ran his hands up and down her back, keeping her tightly pinned to his taut body.
Kira felt his kiss go deeper, playing softly at the corner of her lips and then tempting her to open up for his aggressive tongue. Kira felt heady, spinning in a whirling cloud of sensations. She let her head rock back, as he placed his strong hands at the nape of her neck. Then as quickly as it begun, it was over.
“I can't do this.” He pushed her away with force, looking ashamed and confused. He whirled on his heels, opened the door and disappeared up the stairs. Kira was left shell-shocked, gaping at his back.
Confusion
Kira spent the night huddled in the fetal position. Everything about her life since the docks was confusing, terrifying even, but this, this was something different. He seemed so ashamed to have been touching her. And she didn't know what to think.
Her mind noted the irony of spending so many nights afraid that he would come to her bunk. And now that he had, well, now she felt the ache of rejection.
She hugged herself tightly in
the darkness, wondering if she had lost herself. Wondering if it was right to want a man that had bought her outright. From a pirate, no less.
Kira's confusion led to an aching sense of loneliness. She wanted him to want her. She wanted him to watch out for her. The way her father used to. The way he no longer could.
* * *
Below deck, the sailors crowded around a worn table, watching their Captain take on a burly sailor named Tiny. Hands clasped tightly, both of the sailors roared and grunted, wrestling against the strength of the other. Shouts and jeers went up from both sides, as the tide tipped in Marcus' favor then quickly turned back.
Half of the sailors looked delighted at the idea that their fearless leader might find himself defeated in this simple game, the other half cheered loyally for their captain.
Marcus could feel sweat trickle down his face, his entire body tightened in defiance of Tiny's foreboding strength. The intensity emanating from both men was enough to keep the room alive with energy, and the sailors found the distraction from everyday life at sea to be a welcome one.
Marcus struggled to keep his focus, trying not to let the distraction that was living in his bunk get to him. He watched Tiny's wide jaw tighten as he tried to flatten Marcus' hand to the table. Marcus' vision blurred and he tried to blink away the image of Kira's tear-stained face framed in perfect auburn locks.
He could still feel the softness of her frame in his arms, still remember the taste of her mouth. Guilt started to seep in as he tried to push the memory away.
A wave of frustration moved through his whole body and he let out a primal yell, “Aghhh!” This burst of untamed energy took Tiny by surprise and Marcus pinned his arm to the table with a defiant expression on his face.
The room let out a unified roar of shouts as sailors reached out to pat Marcus on the back. Tiny nodded with a bashful smile, accepting his inglorious defeat. The two shook hands, sweatily acknowledging the other's efforts.
Slowly, the energy dulled as some sailors climbed into their hammocks for sleep. Others gathered in small groups, talking and playing games.