Wrong Kind of Paradise

by Suzie Grant

  She gritted her teeth and poked a finger in his chest.

  “Now why would I do that? I’m still waiting on that ride you so sweetly offered, remember?”

  “I’m not likely to be so accommodating now. You should’ve taken the offer when I made it, you

  arse.”

  “I will have to remember that next time.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Come, we have to get back

  to the ship.”

  He clasped her hand and led her back through the woods. They broke through the brush to see the

  Serpent in the water, just off-shore. The beach swarmed with red-coated soldiers. She sucked in air as

  Blac and she were surrounded immediately. Instinct made her grasp his hand for comfort. “What’s going

  on, Blac?”

  He hissed through his teeth, grabbed hold of her wrist. “Just let me do the talking, Angel. I mean it,”

  he whispered. “Don’t say a damned word.”

  The crowd of men split and a slender, narrow faced man came forward with a tight smile. “Well,

  Captain Barclay. I see you and your crew fared the trip well. We had a difficult time keeping up with that

  swift little raft you own.”

  Blac smiled.

  Angel tensed, and some sixth sense told her something huge was about to happen.

  “That’s the beauty of the brigantine, Charles. There are few ships that can keep pace with them.”

  The man cleared his throat and gave a tight smile. “Lieutenant Worthington,” he corrected. “She

  may be fast, but will she hold up under duress?”

  “That’s the thing, Charles, sometimes brute force doesn’t win the fight. Quite often, it’s the more

  strategic man who takes home the spoils of war.”

  The lieutenant winced at Blac’s intentional use of his name. “Indeed.” He turned toward Angel.

  “Speaking of spoils of war, I see you captured Logan’s little wench.”

  Blac’s jaw twitched. “This is his daughter.”

  Surprise rounded the lieutenant’s eyes. He waved a hand. “Nevertheless, she’ll be someone’s

  wench soon, won’t she?”

  Blac’s fists balled up. Suspicion held Angel immobile. How did these two know each other?

  “Aren’t you a little early? I believe the deal was for two more weeks,” Blac said.

  The lieutenant dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Why wait? I figured we should get it done

  and over with. Don’t put off what you can do today.”

  Blac’s gaze narrowed on the lieutenant. He held up Angel’s wrist. “I have taken her prisoner. I’ll be

  returning to Port Royal with her posthaste.”

  Angel swung toward Blac, aghast at his words. “What?” His grip tightened on her wrist and she

  struggled to free herself. “What are you doing?” she shrieked.

  Lieutenant Worthington glanced from her to Blac and then back again. “I see she is feisty. Perhaps

  she will be too much for you to handle, old man.”

  Blac returned the half smile. “Ahhh, experience overcomes young energy any day. As you grow

  older, you learn exactly how to tame a woman with a gentle hand and less fuss. It saves you the energy of

  fighting with her when there are always better things to do with a woman.”

  “Indeed.” He smirked at Blac. “Well, I do wish I could allow you to retain your spoils of war, but

  the King has ordered me with the current task at hand. You were simply along because you knew where

  the island was located. Your services have been very informative and the King, I’m sure, appreciates

  such loyalty from his subjects. As do we all. I wish you luck in your next venture, old chap.” Charles

  nodded. “Men, seize the chit and let’s get to the ship.”

  ~*~

  Escape!

  The word possessed Angel, replaying in her mind until it finally formed a prison all its own. The

  sun sank into the horizon, radiating brilliant hues of pink and gold. The path cut sharply down into a steep

  ravine littered with multi-sized boulders just below them. Tall tips of palm trees reached into the cerulean

  sky like gigantic sentinels.

  The grip on her arm tightened considerably until she winced. Tension coiled between the two men

  walking beside her, after Blac had announced he would escort them. They were headed toward the

  harbor. The lieutenant had informed her she would be sailing with him on the HMS Serenity. Blac seemed

  even more distant than ever. Quiet. Contemplative.

  But then again, why shouldn’t he? He had just betrayed his best friend’s daughter. Perhaps guilt had

  set in. She hoped it ate him alive until only his skin and bones were left.

  The path narrowed. Blac brush against her, and her breath stalled. Even after his betrayal, he could

  still affect her senses.

  Silence so thick one could slice right through it lingered between them. The snap of a limb caused

  her to jump. Blac glanced at her. His questioning gaze flitted between her face to Charles’s grip.

  The lieutenant again tightened his grasp and she struggled to break free of its bruising vise. She

  glanced at the man. His eyes were hard and unyielding.

  A steady clomp of feet on packed earth echoed. She stumbled over an exposed root and again the

  hand increased its pressure. But he slowed his rapid gait.

  Blac’s hand steadied her. “Charles, I am forced to concede and allow you to take the girl back to

  Port Royal. But if you do not loosen your grip on her-” Blac reached a protective hand to her hip, trying to

  place her behind him. But Charles’s hand held firm. “I will kill you.”

  The lieutenant smiled. “Seems to me, ol’ man, that you’re a little outnumbered.”

  “You and I both know that won’t help you any.”

  Angel glanced between them. Blac’s tone was perfectly modulated but the fury thrummed between

  them. His eyes appeared almost black with rage.

  The lieutenant chuckled and though his grip loosened considerably, he did not remove his hand from

  her. An extreme pink imprint marred her skin in the shape of his fingers.

  Musket fire erupted and birds took flight over head. The soldier in front of her slumped to his knees

  without a sound. Before he hit the ground face-first, Blac yanked her from the lieutenant and shoved her

  behind him. Another shot split the air and the second soldier fell. Blac pulled his musket, ducking them

  both behind a narrow tree. The lieutenant ducked nearby with his own weapon at the ready. Heavy

  footfalls pounded through the brush before the tall familiar black figure appeared. Bruno trained his

  cutlass on the lieutenant.

  “Bruno!” she gasped out. Thrilled he’d come for her.

  Her father’s first mate didn’t glance at her but waved her closer with his other hand. She raced to

  his side, only once glancing back at Blac.

  Blac’s features appeared grim, his lips thin, his jaw clenched. His eyes moved from Bruno to the

  lieutenant, then to her. He nodded to her as if to give her permission.

  “Toss your weapons. We should tie them up,” she said.

  Bruno nodded, handing her the musket and cutlass. Yanking the piece of hemp from the waist of his

  weathered trousers, he sliced it in two with a dagger. She held the weapons on the lieutenant but kept a

  wary eye on Blac as the two men tossed their weapons into the surrounding brush. Bruno tied the

  lieutenants hands behind his back then moved to Blac.

  “This is a crime against the King, young miss,” the lieutenant said. “You do realize this makes you a

  criminal, much like your father?�
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  “I’ve pledged no allegiance, and therefore I serve no king, whether it be yours or anyone else’s,

  sir.”

  A single brow lifted. “Is that so?”

  “Yes. You’ve arrested an innocent man, Lieutenant. My father has committed no proven crimes.”

  “You deny your father is a pirate?”

  She sneered. “Proven is the key word, sir. If you do not know its meaning then perhaps you should

  look it up.”

  The lieutenant laughed but his eyes grew distant. Cold. “Miss De’haviland, you’re a delight but

  even so, ‘twill be my pleasure to hunt you down and hang you right alongside him.”

  “Indeed. Then I shall look forward to the chase.”

  Her gaze turned to Blac, as Bruno stood to his full height and took the pistol from her.

  Blac’s gaze caressed her. “Take care of her, Bruno.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.

  Bruno nodded to him.

  She gritted her teeth. Blac had betrayed her. He’d betrayed her father. She tilted her chin up. “It is

  not over between us, Blac. There was a time when I would have gladly given my life to save yours, but

  the same cannot be said about you in regards to my father. So, the next time we meet, we will be

  enemies.”

  Three

  Angel knelt beside Bruno and Max O’Rielly, her father’s sailing master, just beyond the clearing

  within the brush. She swatted the fern leaves from her face. Six of her father’s men gathered with her.

  “Keep down and keep quiet,” Angel admonished. She ignored the look Max shot to Bruno,

  considering the black man was a mute and obviously couldn’t make a sound. “You know what I mean.”

  Jungle foliage completely roofed the shaded area and shadows traced the leafy walls. Tiny rivulets

  of sunlight broke through the overhang to jab into the darkness and provided the only meager light.

  Blac’s men loaded the ship anchored several yards offshore. Various sized crates and barrels lined

  the beach. A crewman kicked sand over the pit fire and several more lugged the containers to the raft.

  “I know Winston and Barnette are on Blac’s ship. I saw ‘em earlier,” said Max. “We’ll only have a

  total of twelve to fifteen men.”

  “It’ll have to be enough,” Angel replied and shrugged. “At least until we can get to New Providence

  to pick up a new crew.”

  “Aye, we have to get there first, lass. This be a right crazy idea, Are ye sure ye wish to do this?”

  Max shifted on his knees and wiped a hand across his sweaty brow.

  Angel nodded.

  “Angel,” Max admonished, pulling her around to look into her eyes. “This will make ye a pirate

  like yer father. Be certain this is what ye want ta do. No doubts. Once the deed be done, there be no way

  ta undo it.”

  Angel lifted her chin. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get my father back. You can either help me or stay

  behind, the choice is yours.”

  Max nodded and sighed. “If there be nay way to talk ye out of it, then I be with ye. But yer father

  will likely skin my hide, Angel.”

  She grinned. “He’s been threatening you with worse than that for twenty years now.”

  “Aye, but none of the things I’ve done afore were quite as bad as turning his wee daughter inta an

  outlaw,” he mumbled. “So how do ye propose we do this? Cap’n.”

  “Maybe we can cause a distraction of some kind?”

  Bruno gestured toward the barrels lined in a neat little row. Max frowned and rubbed a hand across

  the white stubble on his chin. “Aye, the rum. Tha’ be rum in those barrels. It’s a sailor’s lifeline. The men

  will do everything they can ta put out the fire.”

  “But we have to get past that blasted Spaniard.”

  “Aye,” Max replied and nodded his head. “Rigo be a scurvy bilge rat. We must tread softly err

  we’ll hang from the hempin’ halter for sure.”

  A dinghy made its way back from the ship and a seaman dragged it upon the sand to be reloaded.

  Rampant activity bustled across the area as men worked to load the Serpent.

  “We don’t have time to think about this,” Angel said impatiently. “We’re going to just have to do it

  and see what happens. Blac will be free soon and I’m afraid we won’t be able to get by him as easily.”

  Bruno nodded and made his way through the foliage close to where the supplies were. What if they

  couldn’t pull this off? What if Rigo captured them? How would she free her father then?

  I’ll have to figure that out after it happens. But I have to try.

  Max ushered her forward. “Be ready to run to the water and then swim to the ship, lass, like it be

  yer last breath. When I say go, run like the devil be on yer heels.”

  He will be on my heels, as soon as he gets free from his bindings.

  Seconds passed, four men filtered out around Bruno, and several hand signals were made, but

  Angel didn’t understand them. She waited. Her heart pounded its way out from under her ribs and she

  couldn’t seem to hold a deep breath.

  The sun seared like a white eye in a cloudless sky. Heat rained over them; not even the shade gave

  any relief. Sweat trickled down the side of her temple to drop off her chin and land on her collar.

  Bruno picked up a bottle of rum, emptied it, and poured gunpowder into it from his musket. Then he

  tore off a piece of fabric from the bottom of his shirt. He placed it in the bottle and lit it. A single toss and

  it landed atop the middle barrel.

  Max held Angel’s arm and waited. Five, four, three, two and the explosion rocked the ground

  beneath them. Blac’s crew scurried toward the fire to put it out. Angel ran to the ocean’s edge, and she

  dove into the water behind Max. Her arms sliced through the waves and she came up briefly for air.

  She glanced back. Pandemonium ensued as men ran forward with buckets of water while others

  kicked sand onto the orange ball of flame.

  Max swam close to her. “By Christ’s toes, Angel, swim!”

  Salt encrusted her upper lip and her hair stuck to her forehead. Swallowing seawater, she coughed

  at the grittiness of it.

  They reached the dropped anchor and one by one climbed up. The rest of them made it look easy but

  she found it otherwise when it was her turn. She shimmied up a few feet before the burn of her upper arms

  caused her to lag behind. They only had so much time before anyone realized what was happening. She

  must be quicker than this.

  Her breath whizzed inside her chest and fatigue almost took over. Half way there. The chain gouged

  into the tender skin of her hands and she set her jaw. I must escape to free my father.

  One hand over the other. Another six inches.

  Exhausted, she heaved herself up once more. Her foot slipped and her hands slid. She gripped

  harder but her wet, slick hands could no longer hold onto the iron chain. Just before she released the

  chain, Bruno’s hand clasped hers.

  He hauled her up until he could grab her upper arms and lifted her easily over the side of the ship.

  The mute smiled, his white teeth a contrast against his dark skin. He’d been in her father’s employ for

  twenty years now, and he’d become like a second father to her. She squeezed his hand, nodding her

  thanks.

  The rest of them fanned out, kneeling low to keep out of sight from those ashore. Three of Blac’s

  crew remained on the ship. They were dispatched quietly and tossed into the hold.

  Two men
weighed anchor. Angel climbed up the shroud, her bare feet grasping the hemp like a

  monkey’s toes. Nimbly, she crawled across the fore yardarm and released the sails.

  She made her way back down to the deck. Minutes later, the ship lurched forward. Blac’s men

  swam toward the ship. They’d been discovered. Exhilaration filled her. She’d done it!

  The clang of metal chocks and the snap of the canvas rang in the air. Angel braced her legs to the

  roll of the waves and sent a mock salute to Rigo on the shore. The Spaniard lowered his crossed arms and

  headed toward the tree line. He would search for Blac now.

  She hoped Blac and the lieutenant hadn’t killed each other yet. When he learned of her deception,

  he’d come after her. She lifted her chin.

  But this time, she knew what to expect from him.

  ~*~

  “Help!” The lieutenant wriggled and cursed.

  “Must you make so much noise?” Blac complained. Almost free. If the lieutenant would be still,

  he’d have them out in no time.

  “How else are we to be found?” Worthington bellowed for help again. “You shouldn’t have let the

  twit go.”

  “Me?” Blac sawed at the rope with the small knife he’d retrieved from his boot. “And how was I to

  stop her?”

  Worthington sighed. “Do you believe I am daft? A man of your stature and experience could’ve

  easily overcome the girl.”

  Blac rolled his eyes. “You didn’t notice the six-foot, mute moor who’d rescued her, I take it?”

  “Do not patronize me. You were their friends. They wouldn’t have hurt you!”

  Rigo, Blac’s quartermaster, materialized out of the surrounding brush and hailed them. The two

  seamen with him rushed to release them. Thank God. Temptation to kill the lieutenant had become too

  much to ignore.

  Blac stretched his back and rubbed his wrists.

  “Good God man, why did it take you so long to find us?” the lieutenant barked.

  Rigo ignored Worthington and turned his attention to Blac as they headed back to the cove. “’Twas

  Miss Angel. She managed to distract us, sir.”

  Damned impulsive woman. “What happened?” he asked.

  Rigo rubbed a hand down his face, hesitant. “She caused some chaos, sir.”

  “Just spit it out, Mr. Santiago.”