Free Perfect Strangers by Samantha LaCroix

her into the kitchen. "You were out. Did you … have a good day at least?"
    "Wonderful," she replied, sniffing the air with a look of confusion on her face. "Did you eat dinner already?"
    "No," he said, "I came home ready to cook and you weren't here so I didn't know whether to try to find you or not."
    "Well, I'm here now," she replied. "I've already eaten, though, so don't worry about me. I think I'm just going to read."
    She walked past him again into the living room, sitting down in the chair and turning on the lamp beside her. She picked up her book and turned to the place she had marked as Greg's footsteps approached her.
    "You've already eaten?" he asked, his voice softer than before.
    "I had a burger and fries," she said without looking up.
    "Oh," she heard him say, and he walked back into the kitchen. A small pang of guilt appeared in Veronica's chest but she pushed it down. She heard the sound of metal clanging in the background as she focused on her book.
    ~~~
    "My lady!" said a familiar voice, cloudy and sounding far away. Violet slowly opened her eyes, her head swimming. She tried to lift it as she heard footsteps coming closer. Soon the blurry outline of a man appeared as he dropped to his knees, picking up her head and shoulders, cradling them in his arms.
    "Oh, my lady!" he cried out, and she recognized the voice of her husband, the Lord Roland Winchester. She tried to raise her arms to touch him but found them too heavy to lift.
    "Good Lord, man," another, gruffer voice said as two more blurry pairs of feet appeared. "What have they done to her?"
    Violet heard the men talking among themselves as she struggled to remember the events of the night before. It took her a moment, but slowly the pieces fit together, allowing her to recall how she got to where she was.
    She remembered standing on the deck of the pirate ship, the sun just starting to show itself over the horizon as dawn appeared. Several of the pirates were surrounding her, one holding tight to the rope that bound her hands behind her back. Emmanuel was among the men and, though he acted just like the rest of them, she couldn't help but notice the glances he stole her way.
    "We got the ransom," she remembered one of the pirates, Gregory, saying. "Why don't we just slit her throat and throw the body overboard? I wouldn't mind seein' a little bloodshed!"
    Several of the men roared in agreement and Violet felt herself going pale. Emmanuel, she saw, stood with his mouth closed, waiting for the other men to stop their cheering.
    "No!" he finally said, looking around the group. "We are to keep our word and drop the lady off at the spot arranged. If we did any otherwise, they would most surely attack us."
    "Attack us!" Gregory bellowed back, followed by a hearty laugh. "They wouldn't dare attack us! And if they did we'd cut 'em to pieces!"
    The other men roared again but Emmanuel stared angrily at Gregory, his face set.
    "NO!" he yelled, his voice cutting the cheers short. "We do as we said we would, Gregory, and that is final! Unless you'll want to be dropping my dead corpse off the side of the ship as well."
    Gregory stepped forward and the two stared at one another, daggers shooting from each man's eyes. Violet glanced nervously from one to the other, hoping to God that no one would get hurt.
    Finally, Gregory's face broke out into a grin.
    "All right, Emmanuel," he said with a mock curtsy, "we'll drop the woman off. It's just as well, I don't feel like dirtyin' my knife anyway."
    Violet closed her eyes and felt her heart slow down to a normal pace.
    "However," Gregory continued, "if you want this whore alive so much, I think it should be you who drops her off."
    The men around them roared again as Emmanuel stood stolid, a stern look on his face.
    "Very well," he said. "Blindfold her!"
    Her vision went dark and Violet could feel herself being dragged around, the water loudly slapping the side of the ship, the men to either side of her grunting and