lie to me → s.d.

.26 | violent truth

          It seemed the standoff of a lifetime, what was happening on the cliff side just outside the perimeters of Libertalia. Two, quite furious, if they would add, women holding equally as pissed-off men hostage, opposite a small army of mercenaries armed to the teeth and not able to use any of their weapons whatsoever. Them, and Nathan. And Nathan didn't know what to do in the slightest.

          Theodora had to draw herself to her full height, and then some on the tips of her toes, to hold Rafe's neck and extend the pistol to his temple. She had to practically jut her chin up over his shoulder to see Nadine holding Sam by the collar, her own barrel buried in his dark hair and making his eyes turn a strained, panicked kind of wild.

          The pair of women sized on another up, lionesses preparing to fight, silently telling one another, 'Do it, I dare you.'

          Licking her busted lip and tasting the warm, coppery scarlet on her tongue, Theodora swallowed thick and prayed Rafe couldn't hear her heart thundering as loudly as it was. "You've got my boyfriend," she said carefully.

          "And you've got my business partner," said Nadine with just as much venom.

          There was a beat of tense, still silence. She said quickly, "That just seems a lot more impersonal, don't you think?"

          Some kind of weird, twisted laugh rumbled slowly from the pit of Rafe's belly and he twisted slightly to glance back at her. Her nails dug into his shirt, indenting half-moons into his skin beneath. "Don't worry, Nadine," he said, almost tauntingly. "She's not a cold-blooded killer; she won't do it."

          "You want to bet?" sneered Theodora in his ear, but there was some tiny tremble in her throat he didn't fail to miss. She had, well, ended a few lives in this treasure hunting business, but never like this. Just the idea of pulling the trigger this close, seeing what would happen, made her sick and everything that hurt on her body ached even more.

          Nathan took a bold step forward and a few of the Shoreline men raised their rifles. He extended a hand between the four. "Hey, come on," he said in a surprisingly steady voice. "No one needs to die right now. T, let him go. Just let him go."

          "Not until she does," she hissed.

          "Nadine," said Rafe, cool despite the nails digging deep into his pec. "Let Sam go."

          Nadine's chest rose and fell quickly, gears churning behind her eyes, before she turned the pistol's barrel to the sky and stepped back; Sam scrambled to his feet and scurried over to join his brother. Theodora inhaled deep, blinking rapidly, and caught a whiff of Rafe's scent, some expensive kind of cologne and sweat. Forcing her hand to stop its ever-present shaking, she pulled it from his temple and allowed him to step away, then slunk like an alley cat to the boys' sides. Her hand raised to the back of Sam's head and she felt his hair, as if checking for herself he was alright.

          Satisfied with his work so far, Nathan nodded his head a few times before turning back to Rafe and Nadine. "Listen, we can split the treasure, okay? We just need two hundred million and a little from the fountain, just enough to buy back Sam's freedom."

          Rafe's expression faltered slightly and his lips parted, handgun hanging from his fingers stiffly. "Sam's... Sam's freedom?" he repeated, and the small smile upon his lips blossomed cruelly into a grin. "Excuse me?"

          "His prison mate," Theodora spat. "Henry Alcázar, he wants a cut for springing him."

          "Theo," murmured Sam.