32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

S he heard the ruckus on the main deck from the cabin her brother had tossed her into on the ship, locking her in until they were far enough from land that she wouldn’t dare act on any crazy idea to escape him.

He didn’t trust her. Not yet.

She needed to change that, and the sooner the better.

She couldn’t give him the slightest reason to go back to Ravenstone and kill Thomas.

More laughter. Shouts. Yelps. The men on the ship were excited about something.

Maybe her brother fell overboard. Maybe all of this could end before it went any further, before she was married off to a vicious brute.

She could only hope.

The noise grew louder and she went to the roughhewn door of her cabin, listening. She couldn’t decipher what all the ruckus was about. It was worth checking out. Maybe her prayers had been answered.

Though if her brother was gone, she would have a host of new problems. Valentino was the only thing standing between her and all the men on this ship. If he was gone, she didn’t have anything but her own two hands to protect her from thirty men with no moral bearings.

Going back to the tiny bed, she grabbed a blanket to wrap around her shoulders, and then used her shoulder to shove the crooked door of her cabin open. She stumbled out into the sunlight, her hand gripping the door to keep her upright.

Blinking, it took a full minute for her eyes to adjust to the bright light.

More shouts. Laughter. The kind of malicious laughter that sent shivers skittering along the back of her arms to crawl up her neck.

There. Far across the main deck, a crowd of men faced away from her. Elbowing and jibing each other. Shouts flying.

What in the hell?

The deep swells in the sea tossing the ship about forced her to walk along the outer edge of the deck, holding onto the railing as she made her way to the jeering crowd of men.

She skirted around the edge of the mess of brutes, who had formed a circle around the main mast, looking for a spot where she could see past the wide shoulders.

Popping up onto her toes, she peeked over the shoulder of a shorter man.

Hell. No. Fucking hell.

Thomas.

Thomas on his butt, lashed to the mast by ropes across his belly. His left arm was stretched out wide, a rope around his wrist tied to a side railing, securing it in place. His bloodied face contorted in pain, his jawline strained, his teeth gritted, and nostrils flared as he fought against a scream.

Her brother stood over him, digging the tip of his blade into Thomas’s arm. The dagger stayed deep in the flesh as Valentino looked up to the man next to him. “You see how I slide it in here, and I run it against his bone. There’s not a lot of blood—it won’t kill him. He’ll just suffer.”

Her fucking brother giving a torture training with Thomas as the piece of meat.

The bile was instant. Singeing up onto her tongue, fast and furious, and she spun away from the crowd, reaching the side of the ship just as all the contents in her stomach retched out of her.

She heaved, all of her veins turning to lava, and she shoved the blanket off her shoulders for the boiling heat exploding in her body.

Gripping the railing, she swallowed mouthfuls of air, trying to gain control over her stomach.

“Sister, can’t stand the sight of our dear earl in this state?” Valentino’s voice cut into the wind and the jeering of the men stopped. “’Tis but a bit of sport the boys and I are having.”

Shit. The last thing she needed was her brother to see her weak. To see how this affected her.

She had to get control of herself. Fast. Not react to the brutality or Valentino would torture Thomas all the more just to watch her suffer.

Wiping the edges of her mouth, she stood up straight, and turned around to see that the crowd had parted. Not letting Thomas seep into her vision, she looked to her brother. In the middle of all his men, he stood straight, a step closer to her than Thomas, his fingertips thrumming against his favorite dagger at his side. At least her vomiting had made him pull the blade from Thomas’s flesh. Small favor.

She shook her head. “Just a touch of seasickness—I have not been on a ship in years. Have you not noticed me retching since we left port?”

“No.” His look narrowed at her. “You always were a weak little thing.”

Keeping her countenance indifferent, she pointed to Thomas without looking at him, even though she could feel his glare slashing through her. “You swore you would leave him alone.”

“No, I promised I wouldn’t kill him, wee frettchen.” He pointed the tip of his blade over his shoulder. “The man is alive, as you can plainly see.”

Chortles splattered out from the group of men watching the interaction between her and her brother with entirely too much interest.

A swift reminder she had no power in the current situation and she had to tread carefully.

Her shoulders lifted. “My misunderstanding. I am merely surprised you took the extra effort to get him.”

“Is that all?” Valentino glanced down to Thomas, flicking the tip of his blade toward him. “Thought maybe you were retching because you were pitying the bastard.”

“Pity him?” she scoffed, stepping forward through the part in the crowd, straight into the belly of the beast. It was the only way he would believe her. Her voice dipped into a vicious snarl, pulling on all the fury that had been brewing in her belly since Valentino had appeared to ruin her life. “He killed our mother, Valentino—you think I have any sympathy for this waste of a man?”

His eyebrows lifting, Valentino’s lower jaw shifted to the side as he assessed her with his dead eyes. “You seemed to like the man just fine in Scotland.”

“That was before I knew he killed our mother.”

“She died a long time ago.”

“Family first.” Letting the rage she was currently feeling manifest in every jerking movement of her body, she stalked the remaining distance across the deck toward her brother, ripping his pistol out of its holster as she passed him.

Her eyes glazing over so she could distance herself from what she was about to do, she veered straight to Thomas.

“Family first.” She spit the words out again as she lifted her right arm high across her chest, then swung the butt of the pistol across Thomas’s temple.

He slumped over instantly, straight to unconsciousness, his bloody arm tied to the railing the only thing keeping him half upright.

Good.

Better that he was unconscious as much as possible during this voyage.

The bile in her throat threatened to escape again, but she swallowed it down.

Fury raging in her eyes, she looked back at her brother, words seething through her gritted teeth. “Always family first.”

Her brother threw his head back, laughing. “Welcome home, wee frettchen.” He held out his palm to her. “Now give me back my pistol.”

Perfect. Let the bastard think all her fury was directed at Thomas instead of him. If the Guardians had taught her one thing, it was how to channel her angst to misdirect those around her. Her brother would eat up every speck of fury she put out in the world, because that was how he operated. Furious chaos.

She stepped to Valentino, slapping his pistol into his open hand as she met his stare. “If you will excuse me, I need to go retch again.”

She walked past him and his men, their laughter following her as she made it to the side of the ship and heaved once more.

Bent over, her body rolling within itself and making her dizzy at what she’d just done to Thomas, she gripped the railing hard to hide the shake in her hands.

Bloody hand. Her right hand splattered with Thomas’s blood.

Blood she knew she’d never be able to wash off.