After my relentless attempts at pounding at the door for anyone who happens to not hear me, to open the bloody thing do I finally give up and leave it. I try and take in the dirty, grimy wooden walls but the infuriating strands of my hair that constantly find their way back to my face block my vision. It is already very dark in here and so the feeling of something on my face is very quiet terrifying.

I steady myself once again as the ship moves, not wanting to endure another fall, my bosom couldn't possibly take it.

Lifting my drenched skirts I walk to the side of the ship, finding only barrels of disgusting rum and the faint smell of gunpowder. This place must be where they keep hold of supplies and by the look of it, they do not have much.

I flinch away as a beam of light flashes in my eyes, backing away I see a small hole casting a light into this dark place. Spinning back around I grip the small wooden stool that Clay was sitting on, stepping carefully on the rickety thing I reach up brushing my hands onto the ceiling. I sputter and spit as pieces of dried molded wood enters my mouth and covers my face. Releasing the ceiling I wipe away the remaining strays, not bothering with ones on my hair, it would be impossible.

Careful of the roof, I place my hands firmly not disturbing any remaining dirt. As I stretch on my tiptoes, I peer up into the small hole. The sky is the first thing I see, a light blue with orange and yellow hues, the sun is rising. Have I really slept through a whole day, stepping from the stool, I sit with my head in my hands. Not long I'm sitting there picking out the pieces of wood from my hair.

What am I suppose to do, I have no way of knowing where we are going, who in fact these people are and how dangerous they are? They could drop me off on some island without a single glance back or even worse than thag keeping me. I shudder, not thinking of the ways they could torture me.

I stray to Peter, I pray that he lives, that he is here with me somewhere on this bloody ship.

I stand defiantly, I will not simply sit here and wait for these men to release me on their own accord. If Clay will not come and open the door I will just have to make him.

I walk to the barrels removing the large cover that shields them from me, finding the barrels that contain rum which are easy enough to find. The large letters plastered to the sides early say RUM, what is it that makes this vile drink so popular. With the very little strength I possess I toss it to the floor, getting on role to the large door. Lifting my skirts I kick the top until the contents spill to the ground. Perfect, now just a dozen more to go.

After the fourth barrel empties away, someone finally notices the stream of rum leaking from the door. With my ear pressed to the splintering wooden door, I hear the loud complaint of an unfamiliar person. Calling to whoever seems to be in charge, the man who found the rum leaves, his heavy footsteps retreating from the large door.

With a smile plastered to my lips, I lift the small wooden stool ready to fight my way through these barbarians.

When the door swings open, I throw the stool as hard as I possibly can hitting the man in the face.

His loud protests of pain are all too familiar as I stare at the person rubbing at his face.

I squint, recognizing the man in front of me, "Peter."

"Bloody hell Evie, why'd you go and do a thing like that for." His dark hair is pulled back with leather ties, revealing his now red cheek. His clothes have changed also, with his gentlemen's coat gone what's left in its place is a tan shirt, half tucked into dark trousers. The shirt has thin leather ties at the neck, which are undone revealing a smooth chest. Why the sudden change, have they stolen his attire.

I cross my arms, "I am not sorry." It is his fault I am here in the first place.

He walks deeper into the darkly lit room, "Of course you're not." He stops rubbing his head as he examines my handy work. "What was all this for?"

Is he that dim witted that he does not know why I would do such a thing. "Why did these men take us here? And why aren't you shackled and kept behind bars?"

He sighs, continuing to rub his face, "It's a long story, one I do not care to explain." He reaches for my hand, "If you would just come with me."

I back away from him, not taking his hand, "Why are we here Peter, think about Rudy and my mother how do you think they are handling this charade. And you know if they know you so well why not just talk first. I mean was it really necessary." I rant when I am nervous I cannot help myself.

His hand drops to his side, "Enough! If you wish to stay here, then stay." He states rather rudely. With that he leaves me, muttering other words I yet to hear.

What has gotten into him? "Peter!" I scream, he ignores my calls walking out into the sun.

I wait for someone to close the door, to leave me alone once more but it does not come. What does come is Clay, the halo that is his head appears at the door.

"Come Evie, the Captain would like a word as that you can not simply stay put for just a little more time."

"Captain." I utter, not bothering with his last bit.

He sighs, "Usually a ship of this mass requires such a person, now come quickly he does not like to wait."

I am curious now, "Who do you work under, certainly not the Royal Navy, the Spanish maybe, a rogue ship to spy on the English. Of course there's always the west Indian trading company but they certainly wouldn't stoop as low into hiring the likes of you. And if he is indeed a Captain what is your title, you are too clean for someone to work the lower decks so perhaps quartermaster."

He folds his arms, leaning on the door frame, "You talk quite a lot if you don't mind me saying and for someone so small in stature." He smirks, his eyes twinkling with humor, he is also not the least bit insulted.

"I am not that small, now answer my questions." He thinks I am so easily distracted and naive.

"They shall be answered but not by the likes of me, come." His hand extends to me, my willingness to take his hand is extremely low but I take it regardless. His hand engulfs my very small one, the rough exterior of his hand rubs against my smooth, the contrast between the two so very different.

The harsh light of the sun greets me with a brightly lit smile, shielding my eyes I follow Clay. The dully colored deck floor is my constant companion as the men aboard stare at the only female on this ship. Who happened to toss away their only refreshment. The small hairs stand on edge feeling their gazes like a small prickly heat expanding through my backside. Using my untamed hair I shield my face from their view not finding Peter when I peek through the dark mess.

When I collide with Clay I know he has stopped, "Are you always this clumsy or is it my good looks that causes you to be so flustered." His light chuckle is not welcomed.

My cheeks flare, "No of course not, it isn't every day that a girl like me is kidnapped by strange men who force her unconscious and then tug her around like some untamed dog to meet whoever is behind that door." I point at the door, just for emphasis, Clay looks all to unswayed by my small rant.

"Are you done mouse?"

I grimace, "Must you call me by a rodent, it is very unnecessary."

"Are you done kitten?" he quips.

"That's quite enough with the pet names." His quick wit is not to sway me, who does he think I am another one of his bar maids. That I'll just sit on his lap, with my arms around his neck as he runs his hands along my sides, enough Evie. I feel my cheeks flare with my uncanny thoughts.

He breathes heavily through his nostrils, not seeing my flustered cheeks as he opens the door to where we have stopped. A candlelight flickers as the breeze is let in the room. Clay takes the first step inside, I follow close behind examining the Captain's quarters. It's plainly enough, maps and documents scatter along the table to my left. To the right besides the skull with the golden tooth, it appears harmless.

Clay steps aside, revealing me to the man at the foot of the large table. Before him is a large map, he gazes solely to where his finger points not the least interested in his new guests.

"Captain, at your requests the girl." I looked to Clay, his rude and plainly said words are very different from the man who stood only seconds outside the door.

As he raises his head from the contents of his map, I can see his face partly, the brim of his hat is set low obscuring any judgments of what I may see.

"Aye, she's quite lovely. Your name miss." His voice is rough, I only now wish I can see his face, to match his tone with the expression he wears.

"Evie." I state unequivocally.

"Short for..."

I sigh. Is this necessary, "Evelyn."

He grumbles, a laugh deep in his belly, "Do I bore you Evelyn, if so please do inform me."

I glance to Clay, he stays put, his relaxed frame leaning on a table. "Why I am here? You have no need for someone of my stature Gnash."

"Captain." He orders.

"Pardon?"

His head lifts revealing the eyes as black as the night sky, a long scar covers his face, cutting his upper right forehead that reaches his eye, but still moves to his cheek and finally ending at his bottom lip.

He is terrifying and rightfully so, he has yet to stand, to reveal his full length. Which only sets me on edge.

"You will address me as Captain, I know no other to think she has the courage to face a pirate."

I back away, stumbling at the loose floorboard, a pirate. He's a bloody pirate, Peter has sent me to these criminals, the very people who my father sends to the gallows.

He laughs outright, "What have you brought me first mate, she is but a scared child."

So he is indeed what I thought him to be, a yad higher in rank than I expected, a puppet aboard a pirate ship, the question I dare ask myself is that of, what is to be done with me?

"She knows the whereabouts of the Royal frigate ship, she is needed I'm afraid Captain."

Whereabouts of a ship, I know no such thing, has he gone mad. I was to protest his absurd statement but he gives me a hard stare, one that speaks volumes.

"There will be no use in killing you now then, leave her in the lower decks and away from the rum. You won't be needing fingers to find your way if you touch the rum again Miss Evie." His head lowers watching the map once again, his finger tracing invisible routes only his trained eyes could possess.

Clay nears me, pushing me to the door roughly, my small protests are clouded by the Captain's words to his first mate.

"When do we make port to Tortuga."

"In two days time Captain."

He pushes me fully through the open door, I stumble again covering my eyes from the harsh sun. If he pushes me one more time I will push him off this ship.

He turns to me, "Walk."

I huff, doing as he says I walk to the door I was set in, "What is Tortuga?" Before he answers he grabs the sleeve of my arm directing me elsewhere.

I protest shoving his arm away, "You can just tell me where we are to go."

"Where's the fun in that? And Tortuga mouse, is a where not a what."

"A place, where is it located, I have never heard of such a place."

"Pirates Evie, a place solely for our pleasure."

Of course, I look up involuntarily, what I see reminds me of where I am, black sails pull the massive ship forward, their loyalties lying with only themselves. Men who use the word freedom to pass and make what they do seem worthy of their cause. No one is free, especially ones who murder for spirit, steal what they yet to earn. The place known as Tortuga will be filled with just that, men bent on the word freedom.

My thoughts are interrupted by Clay, "Welcome abroad the Royal Fortune." He mutters.

"I do not seem so fortunate," I whisper. I need to speak with Peter, now. "Where is he?" I address Clay, seeing him other than just a man but a pirate.

"Peter, is that who you mean." He watches the men around him, they busy themselves with tasks given by him.

"Yes." I say impatiently. There is no other I would ask for.

He fixes his gaze onto me, "Peter is his own man, he chooses where to be."

"What kind of answer is that, where is he? Is it not plainly said for your dull ears."

"Evie leave em be," I turn to find Peter.

"Leave us Clay, I will take her from here."

His gaze flickers to Peter then myself, with a nod he leaves to bark orders to men who lay about. I watch as they scurry away, screaming, 'Aye, sir.'

The breeze whips my hair around my face, the light sting is a reminder that I am in fact not dreaming.

He nods his head, "Come." He starts to walk his slow but measured strides guide him to the side railing of this massive ship.

I quickly follow him, feeling the eyes of the sailors as they pass me. I stop at the railing, kneeling forward so the spray of the ocean water cools my heating cheeks. Its so beautiful, the waves moving some in sync but others break off forming their own path as they rise up, no land is in sight to stop them from crashing back down.

I sigh, "Pirates, was it really necessary to involve such people Peter."

His head casts down, watching the waves crash into the side of the ship. "They prefer the word privateer."

"It is not the most accurate of times to play games, just get straight to it, please." He stays quiet like in the carriage, it was almost like he was scared or embarrassed to tell me. "What plan of yours required us to being kidnapped and knocked unconscious."

He keeps his gaze trained on the ocean,"That was not meant to happen, we were only to talk but unfortunately it did not turn as I planned."

"Why did he treat you with such aggression, if you are indeed friends."

"Acquaintances, nothing more." His eyes look distant, as if remembering their first encounter, by the looks of things an unpleasant one. "We may have crossed paths long ago, the one I mean to talk with was Gnash."

There's still the question of how he would cross paths with such men, another time I suppose. Now I must focus on leaving this ship and getting as far from it as possible. "There must be another way to find him Peter, we can not associate with such people." If we were to be caught by the Royal Navy, they'd charge us with conspiring with pirates. The sentence is death.

He pushes off the railing, furious at my words, "Why must you be so severe, you know nothing of these people and what their intentions are, you brand them as pirates yet you do not see their character. I never remember you to be as prejudiced as you are now."

I watch his eyes, like mirrors I see my reflection, my face one of disbelief. He's so quick to defend these strangers but he misses my true meaning behind what I said, "You're so quick to brand me as this pompously bratty women when in fact I was just worried, worried for you. Not only me, if we were to be caught think of the consequences." He stays quiet.

His actions do not define who he is, the person of my childhood. I do not know why I compare him to the boy I knew, I look for someone who is not there. "I will find some other way to find my father Peter."

He picks at a piece of loose wood, splintering it from the railing. "Don't do anything rash Evie, you think you know everything but you do not."

"You are most infuriating, I am trying with every fiber to trust you Peter Holloway but I can not." I breath out heavily, letting the anger escape my body, letting the adrenaline go and only letting in the dread.

"I do not ask for your trust, nor your forgiveness, I know you have given up on the idea of u-," I wait for his reply but the loud shouting of his name is interrupted by Clay.

"Pan!"

••••••••••••••

Don't forget to comment until your hearts content, vote like no tomorrow, and follow to receive updates on this very book.

I will try and update as frequently as possible, do not fret my little mermaids!

Until next time,

-Ash

Xoxoxo

P.s. Hope everyone had a fun filled weekend!!