Free Oceanswept by Lara Hays

ladder.
    Nicholas.
    I blinked, sure my mind was playing tricks on me. Yes, it was Nicholas. Skidmore followed closely behind him, holding a lantern high.
    Despite the violent trembling that shuddered through me, I couldn’t move. There wasn’t any fight left in me, and I had no way to buy Nicholas the time he needed to find the keys and stop this man.
    “Get out of the brig, now!” Nicholas’s deafening demand caused me to shudder. “That is an order!” His urgent steps crashed across the floor.
    Nicholas’s threats didn’t stop the pirate. He pulled my robe up, exposing my legs. An earsplitting explosion sounded, and the door of the brig swung open. Nicholas was standing there, holding a smoking pistol. Skidmore hurried behind Nicholas, the lantern in one hand and a sword in the other.
    In one swift motion, Nicholas pulled Wrack off me and cracked the butt of his pistol across Wrack’s face. My attacker crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
    “Get him out of here,” Nicholas growled.
    Skidmore set the lantern down in the brig, and flung the unconscious pirate over his shoulder like a bag of cargo.
    I felt the warmth of Nicholas’s touch on my face, and soft though it was, I couldn’t help but wince. I balled my fists and swung at him, landing feeble punches against his chest.
    “No! No!” I screamed, flailing my fists violently, though I knew I was too weak to protect myself.
    “It’s me, Tessa, it’s me. It’s Nicholas. He’s gone. He’s gone.”
    “Don’t touch me. I hate you! I hate you!”
    Nicholas lifted me from the ground, carefully cradling me in a strong embrace.
    My flailing punches melted into uncontrollable shaking, my screaming into sobs. I wept, stuffing my fists into my eyes.
    Nicholas soothed me gently, speaking words so softly that I could not understand them. He held me securely, his arms around me, his head bent over mine, pressing his lips against my ear.
    My violent sobbing settled into soft cries. Exhausted, I finally lay limp in Nicholas’s arms.
    He softly stroked my hair. “Can you hear me?” he quietly asked.
    I tried to respond but could only manage a pathetic moan. My entire body burned with fiery pain.
    He sighed deeply. “What did he do to you?” he whispered to himself. His fingers—light as a butterfly’s touch—grazed my swollen face. “Can you move at all?”
    I shook my head ever so slightly. Even this small movement sent shocks of pain through me.
    “I’m just going to look at you closer, Tessa. Don’t be scared.” Nicholas laid me on the ground, tucking my robe around me. He grabbed the lantern and held it overhead. He examined my face, gingerly touching the spreading bruise on my jaw where Wrack struck me with the jug. He touched my bloodied lip. I heard him gasp when he saw the pool of drying blood on my neck and shoulder where Wrack’s nose had bled on me. After a moment of closer examination, Nicholas seemed satisfied that the blood was not mine.
    “Your neck is bruised,” he observed. I coughed as he gently stroked the tender muscles where I had been throttled.
    “Nicholas?” I rasped, finally finding my voice.
    “I’m here.” His voice was husky.
    Struggling for strength, I coughed out the only question that was on my mind, “Is he gone?”
    “Aye, he’s gone. You will never see him again,” promised Nicholas. “Where did he hurt you?”
    I swallowed hard, hoping to get some moisture in my dry throat. “My neck,” I croaked, cupping my throat to demonstrate how I’d been strangled. “He kicked my head and my back and in the stomach.” My voice was a barely audible whisper.
    “And here?” he asked, stroking my jaw.
    “A jug of rum.”
    “That explains the broken clay. It looks like you were cut from that too.”
    He was holding my left hand. It was covered in lacerations I’d not noticed before.
    “Did he…?”
    “No,” I whispered. “You arrived just in time.”
    He solemnly examined my wounds again. “We need to watch