Page 52 of The Worst of Them

Fiero stood over her, his massive fingers swallowing her dagger. He looked like he might happily use the blade to cleave Cecily in two and enjoy every second of it.

“I heard,” Fiero said, “you’re not supposed to have sharp things.”

Cecily’s eyes darted from the knife to Fiero to Morgyn to Jack, who watched from across the deck, his eyes wide. The first mate took one step toward them before she looked away—and saw Copson step out from behind the helm.

The captain met her gaze. He saw the knife. He looked at Jack.

“You’re pretty sharp yourself,” Morgyn said, taking the dagger from Fiero, “but even you know poisoned words only cut so deep.” She balanced the knife in her fingers, laughter shining in her eyes. “I bet you stole it, didn’t you? Not only a murderer, but a thief too?” She tsked. “What’ll the captain think of that?”

Cecily’s lungs heaved with deep breaths that weren’t calming at all as she tried to wrench from Fiero’s hold. It didn’t matter if Morgyn knew what she was—she had found another way to throw Cecily to the wolves, and when she was so close to freedom⁠—

Fiero dropped her arm right as phantom heat seared through her flesh, straight to her heart, which melted, puddled, and pooled into blood and dread.

“What have you done?” Jack’s low grumble came from right next to her. She spun to snap her response, but the first mate glared at Morgyn and the knife in her hand.

“Not a thing,” Morgyn said, her eyes wide and innocent.

“Bullshit,” Cecily hissed. “You⁠—”

The captain’s voice, terrifyingly close, silenced them. “Let’s take this somewhere more private, shall we?” He’d left the quarterdeck and now stood mere feet away, his gray eyes hard. “My quarters. Now.”

Copson turned on his heel and headed for the room under the quarterdeck, followed by Fiero and Morgyn. Cecily trailed a few feet behind.

She’d lost control so easily. And for what—some misplaced, absurd surge of jealousy? Over Jack?

Now Morgyn had goaded her into attacking, then painted her as a thief. Cecily’s mind scrambled through almost two weeks of memories, searching for what she’d read in the articles. The punishment for thieving was…what? Flogging? She wouldn’t be shocked if he wanted to remove a finger or lash her palms.

She curled her hands into tight fists.

Jack stood at the door to Copson’s quarters, his expression unreadable. As Cecily passed, she was tempted to tell him she hadn’t meant to pull the knife. She had tried to keep their agreement.

But she didn’t speak, and neither did he. The door shut behind them.

The captain’s quarters were well furnished with a large bed, a desk, and a long table surrounded by chairs bolted to the floor. The walls were white and covered with all manner of maps, weapons, and books enclosed behind glass doors.

Even with all that, the room said very little about the man she was preparing to contend with.

“Do explain,” the captain said from behind his desk, his tone piqued with either amusement or anger as he addressed all four of them.

Cecily held very still, hands at her sides. Beside her, Jack did the same.

“Cecily pulled a knife on Morgyn,” Fiero said as Morgyn set the dagger on the desk. Jack stiffened.

Copson looked at the knife, then at Cecily. “Why?”

Saying it was a mistake would only sound like she was trying to save her own hide. But it had been a mistake, and she didn’t want to pull the captain into petty politics that she also wanted no part of. It would only serve to anger him further.

Morgyn, however, shared none of the same sentiment. “Cecily’s been trying to kill me since we met.”

“I don’t wish to kill anyone,” Cecily said.

“You pulled a knife on me.” Morgyn’s voice shook as though she were terrified. As though this hadn’t been exactly what she’d intended.

Irritation lined Copson’s face, so Cecily said simply, monotonously, “She startled me.”

It was an oversimplification, but she didn’t assume Copson cared much for the specifics of how and why she had snapped so easily—only that she’d done it.

The captain’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t tolerate fights on my ship. If you two have something to settle, do it in Tortuga. Fight, duel, but don’t bring it back here, or I’ll make you both regret it.” He turned to Fiero. “Mind your wife and keep her from trouble. Go.”