Marcus whirled on her with a dangerous look in his
eye. “What?”
Maisie backed up nervously. “The pirate...who was
in Kira's bed.”
Marcus squinted at her with uncertainty covering
his face. “What are you talking about...?”
“
Um...well, sir. I wouldn't tell
you this, only it's just, well, Kira's not here...”
“
Spit it out, girl!” he said
forcefully.
Maisie sighed loudly. “I came into her room one
morning a few days ago. And she had bruises...and her face, it was
red, there was a mark. She seemed so sad and despairing, I could
barely get her out of bed. And then... she, she told me it was the
pirate. That he'd been there. In her room. I just helped her put
some powder on it tonight, to hide the mark.”
A flood of emotions welled up in Marcus' throat,
threatening to choke him. He imagined Kira's beautiful face, broken
and bruised. He imagined her eyes, filled with tears.
And then he felt the most
unbearable pain, squeezing his heart as if to crush it. He'd put
those tears there. He'd left her broken and alone. The events of
the evening replayed clearly in his mind. Kira sobbing hysterically
as he'd yelled at her. Kira looking at him with heartbreak in her
eyes when he'd called her a
whore
.
“
Oh God...
Oh God
...I- I've made the most
horrible mistake.” Rushing out the door, Marcus tried to collect
his wits, realizing he'd left Kira vulnerable to every kind of
evil. She was alone on the streets in the black of night. He
imagined the predators that might be lurking, waiting to seize upon
such an opportunity.
He realized he already knew of one
predator who'd been stalking Kira, and pangs of self-hatred made
their way through his body. He'd done this. He'd sent her away, a
beautiful, innocent girl with the most trusting eyes.
God,
he couldn't take
it. If something happened to her, he'd never be able to forgive
himself.
~~~~~~~~~
Marcus tried to fight the
confusion in his head as he raced down the street. He had no idea
where Kira might be. She'd only been in London a few weeks and
there were few places she'd grown familiar with. Remembering their
meeting in the park, he backtracked, using the dim light from the
street lamps to guide him. She was nowhere to be seen.
Of course, she's not.
He
thought.
You told her never to
return.
In his panic, little pieces of their conversation
that night came back to him. He remembered her beautiful face, so
insecure in the midst of so much formality. “I've spent my whole
life on the docks,” she'd said, her face distraught.
The docks!
That was it. She had to be there. Terror gripped him as he
realized that was the worst place for her to be. There was bound to
be a wave of drunken sailors and riff-raff making their way to and
from the docks.
Marcus headed off with haste, running down the
street like his life depended on it. He'd barely been in time to
save her on the first occasion. Now, he feared, he may have sent
her right back into the lion's den.
~~~~~~~~~
Marcus was surprised to see the docks deserted, the
silent darkness lending to an unsettling feeling. He'd called her
name several times but was only met with more silence.
The place seemed to be devoid of life, not a single
figure moving among the shadowy ships. The only thing that seemed
to move was the reflection of moonlight on the water.
Marcus scanned the thick row of ships. His heart
stopped for a moment when he saw the looming shape of the pirate's
vessel. He would never forget it.
He'd heard such terrifying screams that night on
the water and he'd known that someone was fighting for their life.
The memory of those screams served to fill him with dread. He knew
the owner of those screams now. He knew her so well. What if he was
too late?
Racing onto the boat, Marcus prepared himself for
the possibility of attackers, or at the least, drunken pirates. The
deck was empty, though, and he scrambled down the stairs where he'd
found Kira the first time. There was a door at the bottom, but it
was locked. Throwing his shoulder into it with all his might,
Marcus broke down the door with a fierce yell.
The room before him was shadowy and dark. He could
make out a figure, sprawling on the floor. Looking more closely,
Marcus realized it was the pirate.
He seemed to be very drunk, his eyes closed,
mumbling something about a sweet girl. Marcus wanted to pummel his
face in but knew his time was short if he wanted to get off the
ship alive. A host of pirates could return at any moment.
“
Where is she, you bastard?”
Marcus whispered, wishing he could shake the pirate awake. A soft
groan from the corner of the room got his attention.
“Kira?”
Stepping closer, he could see a shape curled on a
bed. A small ray of light streamed from a porthole in the wall,
illuminating a tiny, frail figure covered in a mess of red hair.
“Kira!” Marcus felt his heart tightening in immense pain.
Her body was splayed across the bed, a huge bruise
covering her eye and a stream of blood coming from her nose.
Remnants of her purple gown had been torn to bits, strewn around
her. The only thing covering her was a sheet and Marcus could see
the hand-shaped bruising formed on her pale, delicate skin. Marcus
cried out in agony.
“
God,
no
...”
Taking off his jacket, Marcus tried to wrap her
tightly without touching her bruises. Her eyes were tightly shut,
one eyes completely swollen from the beating she'd taken.
As gently as he could, Marcus
lifted her broken body from the bed, stepping over the inebriated
pirate to make his way up the stairs. He prayed no one would try
and stop him.
God help
me
, he thought. He knew his anger would
not allow him to control himself if someone got in his
way.
Marcus carried her body off the
dock, feeling the shallow shudder of her breathing.
At least she's alive
, he
thought, then cursed himself. What kind of life would that
be?
He knew Kira would be devastated, heart-broken once
she remembered this night. He felt his eyebrows furrowing with
emotion as he thought about what this would do to her.
Weaving his way through the streets, Marcus tried
to hurry, worried that her injuries were more serious than he knew.
Reaching a little house on a small, quiet street, Marcus slipped in
the door.
“
Malcolm...Malcolm!”
Emerging from the back in a nightcap and gown,
Malcolm looked sleepy and disoriented. He carried a lamp with him,
illuminating the humble front room that contained a table and a
cupboard.
“
It's Kira.”
Malcolm's eyes widened at the
sight of a bruised and bloodied Kira. “Oh goodness,
no
. How did this
happen?” The older man was visibly distraught, the first signs of
tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.
“
Pirate.” Marcus spat, almost as
if he were cursing. Malcolm headed back down the hall and then
returned fully clothed. “I'll get the doctor. You can put her in
the bed in the back.”
As Malcolm slipped out, Marcus gingerly carried
Kira's limp body into the only room in the little house. It
contained a humble bed and a small desk in the corner. Carefully,
Marcus laid Kira on the bed, wrapping her in the rough coverlet. He
felt emotion begin to overtake him as he looked at her unconscious
face, her skin swollen with red and purple marks.
“
I swear to you, Kira...” His
voice broke with emotion. “I swear to you I will do whatever it
takes to avenge you. I will do whatever it takes to help make you
better.”
Soon, he heard Malcolm return with the doctor. The
two sailors hovered close by as he inspected her, checking for
broken bones and other wounds. Soon, he was shooing them both out
for the sake of her privacy.
Malcolm and Marcus sat in the
hall, time seeming to stretch on endlessly.
I'll do whatever it takes
, Marcus
thought. Whatever it takes to fix this. Whatever it takes to fix
what I've broken.
Marcus felt a bitter sense of
hopelessness overcome him.
Do you really
think you can come back from this? Do you really think she could
ever love you again? You fed her to the wolves.
“
Captain...are you
alright?”
Malcolm's voice broke through the haze and Marcus
looked up to find the warmth of a hot tear racing down his cheek.
“What have I done, Malcolm? What have I done?”
~~~~~~~~~
Long after the doctor had gone, Marcus found
himself wide awake, standing watch over Kira's room. He slept in
the floor, a couple of make-shift blankets forming a temporary
bed.
Malcolm had been kind enough to make a pallet in
the front room, but Marcus wondered if the older man had managed to
get any sleep either.
The doctor had confirmed Marcus' fears. Kira had
been badly wounded, several of her ribs broken and he'd hinted that
internal injuries were probable. Kira would need to be in bed for
several months in order to recover.
Marcus tried to push away the grief he felt. He'd
wanted to rescue her. From the first moment he'd laid eyes on her
in that dirty little street, he'd felt the undeniable urge to take
her in his arms and offer her his protection. Now, he had failed
bitterly. The one thing Kira deserved to have, safety, had been
ripped from her completely.
He tried restlessly to get some sleep, but his mind
continued to race for many hours. Eventually, as morning started to
seep in, he gave in to exhaustion.
~~~~~~~~~
It was late morning when Marcus woke. Memories of
the night before hit him like a ton of bricks and he jumped up to
check on Kira. She seemed to be resting, the purple spot on her eye
spreading across her face. Whatever it took to nurse her back to
health, he knew he would do it. He just prayed she would wake
up.
Malcolm stuck his head in quietly. “I'm going to
make soup.”
Marcus nodded, grateful for the calming presence of
the even-headed sailor. He knew Malcolm had to be upset, but he was
as quiet and useful as ever.
For quite some time, Marcus sat in a chair by her
bed, waiting for her to wake up. He prayed, he cursed himself, he
ran back through everything he'd said before. Still, none of it
could change what was.
Finally, close to noon, Kira's eyes started to
flutter softly. Marcus sat up straight as an arrow, hoping that she
would come to. She let out a soft, painful moan, her broken ribs
clearly obstructing her breathing.
Marcus winced as he watched her struggle to breath,
the beginnings of consciousness bringing her great pain. At last,
her eyes fluttered open, a look of confusion filling them.
“
Kira.” Marcus whispered, looking
for signs of recognition in her gaze.
Her eyes slid shut once more, a painful sound
escaping from her mouth as she tried to adjust her position on the
bed.
With a gentle touch, Marcus reached forward and put
his hand on her arm. Kira's eyes shot open, a terrified look of
panic permeating them. “Don't touch me!” she screamed. She yanked
her body to escape his touch, then let out an excruciating yell as
pain tore through her body.
“
Ahh..!” She began to sob
brokenly, her face stinging from the tears flowing over wounded
skin.
Marcus watched as the broken creature in front of
him shook violently, clearly terrified of his presence. It felt
like the pain of a knife, stabbing him deep in the heart.
“
I'm sorry...” Marcus said, moving
his hand away. Her huge eyes were staring at him now, a look of
utter fear filling her. “Don't touch me. Don't ever touch
me.”
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Other Books by Evelyn James
Crazy Little Thing Called Love
-
Crazy Little Thing Called
Love
is a hysterical, romantic romp with a
lot of spunk! Sparks fly when club promoter Marli Johnson's late
night antics bring her furious, but
oh-so-good-looking
neighbor to her
door! Hot Shot, as she calls him, can't stand her silly attitude
and ridiculous shenanigans. That is until Hurricane Elyse hits,
forcing Marli into Hot Shot's living room for shelter. Will either
of them survive the next few days? Who will come out alive? And who
will come out in love?
Crazy Little Thing Called
Love
: Chapter 1