Confessions of a Pirate's Heart

Chapter Thirteen

The ship became lively as its crew scurried about to follow their Captain's orders. Several pirates jumped onto the shrouds and climbed aloft while others pulled heartily on the rigging to hoist the sails. Leslie stepped up to man the helm and consulted with another man, ready to set course.

In the meantime, a spare sail had been located and as instructed, Hansen and Collins began patching pieces together to strengthen the thickness of the flaxen. The Captain watched on, supervising as several men lowered it down the side of the ship over the gaping hole in its bow. It was a blow just above water so leaks would be slow but no chances were to be taken with their beloved ship.

Once the sail had been fastened as best as possible and the ship began its course to Southampton, Alexander made his way back towards his cabin. He gazed at Scarlett briefly, who marched closely at his heels and urged for William to close the door behind them.

The cabin was dark as the sun had yet to rise above the cloudy horizon, the curtains were still pulled shut and the bed left in disarray from Scarlett's abandonment. Alexander walked over to it and picked up her dress lying at the foot, throwing it across the room to her. Quickly, she pulled it on, tightening the strings on her stays as she watched him retrieve a bottle of rum and a goblet from the cabinet. After setting them on his table, he pulled out several papers from the drawer and sprawled them out noisily.

"Tell me what is going on, Alexander," Scarlett said, raising her voice and walking over to him. "Who was that man? And why the bloody hell did they blow a hole in your ship?"

"That was Bastian's right-hand man," he said, sitting down and pouring himself some rum. "And it was a warning shot."

"How was that a warning shot?'"

"Not enough to cause casualties or to sink my ship but enough to remind me of my place--and God forbid, cost a significant sum of money to repair it." He downed his rum swiftly in one swallow.

"And what is your place?"

The Captain sighed through his nose and tilted his head up to face her. "Scarlett, do you have any clue how deep--how widespread--this is?"

"Not exactly," she said, hesitantly. "Other than what you have told me and obviously Blackbeard trying to sell my brother and I."

"Prostitution," he said. "That's the real treasure trove that pirates are after. It's a raging business these days and there's lots and lots of money in it."

Scarlett closed her eyes for a brief moment. "And what does all this have to do with you?" she said, fearful of the answer.

He poured another drink and scrutinized the contents of his cup as he held it between his hands. "I haven't been entirely truthful with you...but you might as well know now. Blackbeard isn't the only one selling slaves. So am I."

"I knew it," William sneered from the side of the room. "He wasn't there that night to save people. He was selling them!"

Scarlett let out a heavy breath. "To Bastian De Leon."

"Aye, to Bastian De Leon," the Captain said, lifting his voice to a mockingly flamboyant tone and spreading out his arms as he leaned back in his chair. A wide grin was plastered across his face. "That conniving bastard."

"Is this all just a joke to you?" Scarlett said, squinting at the Captain.

"My ship just suffered an attack from cannonfire," he replied, his expression serious as he leaned forward on his table. "What would you think?"

"Then you seem to be handling it very well. Or is it you just take it and don't fight back because you bloody work for the man?"

"Love, do you even know who Bastian De Leon is?"