A Hidden Queen

Chapter 59

A heavy sigh leaves Josephine as she falls against the steel bars. Her white teeth clench together, sucking air through the small space as a new fire ignites against her side. Three days. She groans grievously. It has been nearly three days if not far more since James had kidnapped her and it was none for the better. She has been beaten, tortured, abused to an extreme that she herself is amazed she has endured. And now James adds to the grief by cutting off their food and water supply. The small band of pirates were beginning to show signs of dehydration and hunger, snapping irritably at one another, unable to take anyone's presence. They could not take much more of this, less someone throttled another. Josephine muses, collapsing to the floor.

A pitiful moan slips. She rests her elbows upon her knees, tangling slender fingers within her greasy hair. Her body ached continually. The constant hot, stinging fire licking at the fresh wounds littering her body made the young woman want to vomit from the constant pain. Her ankle still throbbed, pulsing with the bruises upon her face. Josephine gently glides her hand over her throat. The muscles within her neck were swollen and bruised from James' strangling, causing a simple task such as speech to be painful as well. James was determined to break her, and he just may have succeeded. Josephine sighs, leaning her head against the cold bars; the blue eyes staring up at the overhead decking.

"Are you happy now James? You've won." She whispers in hot disdain. "You've won."

The last sentence dances upon her lips aggressively tugging at her pride. He won. How could you let him win? Josephine scolds, biting at her lower lip as a single tear race down her cheek. The young woman lowers her head, resting it against her knees. She wraps her arms around her legs tightening herself further, while ignoring the sharp pain from her broken rib. How did she let this happen? She weeps bitterly.

"Shut up Alex." Hawthorne whispers hotly.

Josephine groans at the spat upon words. Can she just wallow in her own misery? She thinks bitterly, cracking an eye open. The blue orbs stare at her boots. Stilling her breathing, she listens as shuffling tickles the tips of her ears.

"I told you to shut up." Hawthorne snaps.

Josephine slowly raises her eyes, peeking out over her arms. The boys were becoming rather annoyed with one another's presence, continually bickering and back-biting. Hawthorne had soon begun to give up in his ill attempt to keep his emotions under control. The hostility and heat to his words rearing more frequently with every breath.

"Why should I? Do you not like the words I utter Mr. Hawthorne?" Alex snips sarcastically.

Josephine lifts her head fully, resting her chin upon her knee. The two men sat side-by-side within the dark confines of the back-half of the cell. Despite the inadequate light, Josephine could still make out the scowl twisting Hawthorne's features. The man whispers something indistinguishable to the midshipman, earning a halfhearted snarl and a projectile piece of wood flung across the cramped space.

"Do not give me such a sour look." Alex scolds. "Mr. Lowe did a piss poor job as the ship's physician if you ask me."

"No one was asking you Alex. Hence the continual usage of 'shut up'." Hawthorne gripes.

"You spit such abuse because you merely do not want to discuss the fact that her wounds are not healing. In fact, they are getting far worse than we both feared. Infection is the next step, and it will set in soon Hawthorne. After that there is nothing that can be done to help her without losing limps."

"Did it not occur to you that I perceive that very well!" Hawthorne snaps, honey eyes blazing upon the smaller man. "But we have nothing at our disposal to help, not even clean water to clean the flesh. We have no choice but to. . "