Queen Of My Nightmare (Uncharted Secrets, Book 2): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories (12 page)

Scared to death, I huddled into the corner and started to cry. My sobs were uncontrollable. I was unable to catch my breath. Growing lightheaded, I leaned against the wall. As I slid to the floor, I heard the madam of the house screaming in the distance. My stomach started to ache, my head began to throb. I was going to faint. My baby. My baby. I held tight to my tummy, which had become hard to the touch.

Mason was yelling at someone, Shark was, too. Through my tears, I saw Mason chasing Feather. The moment he grabbed my cat, he shoved the screaming, flailing creature into a bag. I cried for my cat, but with my stomach aching like it was, all I could do was reach for him as Mason threw the bag over his shoulder.

Next thing I knew, he was carrying me down the hall. I could see everyone’s faces, the judgment, the humiliation. As Mason carried me across the lawn, the Madam screamed that we could never come back. Mason tossed a bag of loot at the old wench. “Stick this up your arse, ol’ lady.”

In the pouring rain, I watched Shark heading for town. Mason started carrying me in the opposite direction. My state of panic deepened. “Where are you taking me?” I cried, my tears blending with the rain.

“I’m taking you home.”

“Home?”

“Aye. To the house I bought you today while you thought I was out finger fucking whores. You get a bathtub and a personal servant, too, you ungrateful wretch.” He laughed.

Though I thought to myself that I hated Barbados and never wanted to call this cursed island home, there was no way to deny my gratitude for his relentless support. “Thank you. Thank you. I am so sorry.” I put my hand on his wet cheek.

“Ah, you can make it up to me in the bed we’re going to share. We’ll get one much bigger than the one at that shithole you hated.”

I told him I loved him over and over, until the aching in my abdomen returned. Not wanting to believe I’d be having a baby on a dirt road in the rain—with no one but a drunk man to assist me—I kept my fears to myself as he carried me along.

His breath smelled like rum. Normally, I liked that. But now it was making me sick. Everything seemed terribly wrong. I had never before been so uncomfortable. Feeling my body tensing, he asked me if I was all right. I lied that I was fine, but as we came upon a small house on a bluff overlooking the sea, the pain became too much to bear.

Stabbing, cramping, contracting pain overtook me completely. Screaming in unison with the rumbling thunder, I kicked my legs so wildly, he almost dropped me.

Mason pulled me closer. “Oh, no. Is this it, Hannah?”

“I think so.” I cried out again.

“Ah, shit.” He picked up his pace, grumbling under his breath, “I never drink this much. I never get this drunk, and now, the one time I do…”

Another flash of horrifying pain pierced my body as we reached the covered porch of the little house. He held me until it ended, then hurriedly opened the door. The windows were closed and it was hot as all hell in the tiny space. Laying out his coat, he made me as comfortable as I could be on a bare wooden floor, and then opened the windows so I could get some air.

My cries echoed through the barren walls as the baby fell lower. I could feel him fighting, ripping, tearing his way through me. The rain poured, the thunder roared, and Mason was doing everything he could to help me, but none of it mattered. It all seemed distant in comparison to the pain engulfing my body.

There was no way to stop it. No way to escape it, and it seemed to go on forever. “I hate you for doing this to me, Mason!” I screamed, hoping the daggers in my demonic wail would stab the man who put this baby in my body. “It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth it. I hate you for ever touching me!”

Regardless of my hateful shouts, the seed-planting demon lowered himself between my legs. I didn’t want him there ever again. “Get away from me,” I screamed, but as he forced my legs apart, he exclaimed, “I see him!”

The end was in sight. No longer hating the drunken man who kept saying he wanted to help me, I pleaded, “Get him out. Take him out of there.” I prayed that it would be over soon. Even if I died getting him out, I just wanted it to end.

“Keep going, my sweet. It’s almost over.” He patted my knees.

The final ripping, tearing, excruciating blast of pain, was followed by the sound of crying. Crying. Some other strange things happened to my body, but all that mattered at that moment was the sound of my baby’s living, breathing cries. Mason was holding him. It was dark, but by the sound of his voice, I could hear he was crying, too. “We have a boy, Hannah.”

Holding my baby in one hand, he used his cutlass blade to cut the cord with the other. Once the baby was free from my body, Mason handed him over to me, then propped my head up on his lap. In the blue glow of night I could see my baby’s little face. His tiny, bloody face. At that moment it didn’t matter what I had been through in my life, and it didn’t matter what would happen next. On that wooden floor, in that empty house, lying on my husband’s lap, with our child—Sterling Mason Bentley—wrapped in my arms, everything was perfect in my world.

Chapter 12

Before My Eyes

T
h
e
first month of Sterling’s life was the best month of my life. Mason had enough loot stored away to take the month off of work, and there in that little house he bought for me, he helped me care for our son. Though it was my job to feed and change him, Mason carried him around while I slept and talked to him just like he was one of his mates. I fell more in love with both of them each day, and every night that the sun set on the sea outside our windows, I thanked God for granting me such a beautiful family.

Awaking one cloudy morning to Mason snoring like a hog on his side of the bed with Sterling sleeping between us, I tapped Mason’s gigantic arm. “Wake up. Your snoring is going to shake the house down.”

He opened one eye and smiled at me. “Then you’d cry and I’d have to get you another one.”

“But you would, and that is why I love you so.”

“Because I spoil you rotten?”

I giggled. “Yes. Rotten like the fermented sugar that makes up your rum.”

“And you addle me just the same.” He propped his head upon his hand and looked at our son. “I like this little fellow. I knew I’d take care of him and all, but I didn’t know he was going to mean so much to me.”

“I know. I was worried about so many things before I saw his little face, but now I don’t know what I would ever do without him.” I tickled his chubby little foot. “He is a perfect little angel, so fat and white like one of heaven’s clouds. It’s hard to believe that he came out of my tiny body.”

He laughed. “You’re telling me. Whew. I saw that shit happen. My life will never be the same.” After dramatically wiping his forehead, he ran his hand along my thigh. “But I sure like the way he plumped you up.”

Slapping his hand off my fat arse, I giggled. “Good heavens, Mason. I am still bleeding out the mess he left behind.”

“Well, the moment you’re clean, I’m going to put another one in you.” He laughed as he sat up and stretched.

Sterling started to stir. While I changed him, Mason told me he’d make us breakfast. Cooking was but one of his many surprising talents.

While nursing my sweet little baby, sunlight broke through the grey clouds and a ray of light shone on his tiny arm. “Do you feel that, my angel? That is the warmth of the sun. When you get bigger I will tell you all about the sun, the stars, and the tides. Maybe you will grow up to be a sea artist like me, but beyond that, I hope that you are more like your father, for he is one of the best men who has ever walked this earth.”

X

Thunder rattled the rooftop, and rain beat on the ground, but none of the sounds were half as tremendous as my baby’s cries. Ruth, my cranky old servant, told me that he must be cutting teeth.

It had to hurt him greatly, for the child who once was happy and fun, had recently turned into a needy, crying savage. He didn’t want to eat, he didn’t want to sleep, and there was nothing I could do to appease him.

While I paced the floor, carrying him, rocking him, trying to keep him calm, Ruth stirred the pot of stew she was making and curtly stated, “He will never calm down if you don’t…Madam Bentley.” The madam was an afterthought. This bitch had no respect for me and her nattering interjections annoyed me more than her help eased my distress.

“I will never calm down if you keep annoying me,” I barked at her wrinkly face. To her great fortune, Mason walked in the door before I could stab at her with more than just my words.

As he took his coat off, I snipped at her, “You can go, now.”

“Ah, sweetheart, it’s raining,” Mason interjected. “She don’t need to go, yet.”

“Oh, she needs to go,” I shouted over the baby’s ridiculous cries.

“No. She doesn’t.” He overruled me with that captain-like tone and reached for the baby. “You give me that boy, and Ruth, get a bath ready for the madam afore you go.”

Without another word to me, Mason took Sterling out on to the covered porch. Through the windows, I could see him pacing back and forth with the baby who was no longer crying, yet over the sounds of the roaring weather, the tormenting wails resonated in my ears. My head hurt from the hours of agitation, my breasts—huge and swollen from the milk—began leaking through my dress, and my stomach was rumbling from hunger.

Suddenly realizing that I had not eaten in hours, I hoped that I’d feel better after dinner and a bath, but chances were slim. I was miserable to the core. I had been for months now.

X

After dinner and a bath, and getting the baby to sleep, I sat in bed and stared at the wall. Mason was already sleeping with his heavy arm draped over my belly that was once again flat, but with so much on my mind, I couldn’t sleep. So I tried to wake him. “Mason.” I rubbed his arm. “Mason, wake up.”

“What is it?” he grumbled, sounding annoyed.

“I don’t like Ruth. I want you to banish her from the island. Send her to England like you did with Rebecca.” I begged him to do that so she could never tell anyone in town about Sterling. For his own protection, I was hiding him so that no one would ever know he was the son of The Ocean Eyed Witch.

Mason exhaled. “Damn it, Hannah. I can’t afford to keep sending servants away because you refuse to get along with them. How about you just quit causing problems and be thankful for what you have for once.”

Utterly annoyed by everything he just said, I huffed, “I am thankful. And I am not the one causing problems. I don’t have time to. All I do is suffer through my days, carrying that crying baby around.”

“Suffering with
that
crying baby,
eh?” He sat up. “What the hell kind of shit is that to say about your son?”

Suddenly feeling like an outcast in my own home, I backed against the headboard and apologized for offending his beloved child. “I’m sorry. I’ve just never in my life had to take care of anyone and being needed all the time exhausts me to no end.” I started to cry.

In the darkness, I saw him run his hand through his hair. “Ah, Hannah, all I’ve ever done is take care of those around me, so I know how trying it can be, but it is what it is and you just have to find ways to make the best of it. Hell, I’m not thrilled with what I have to do for work these days, either. Working my arse off like a blaggard ol’ servant at those docks, only to make the wages of a peasant. I hate having another man telling me how shit goes, and I hate the fact that it’s my sweat and blood making a rich man richer while we’re barely getting by. But you don’t hear me complaining, do you? No. Because I love the both of you more than I hate what I’m doing, and this is what’s best for all of us, for now.”

Completely unaware that he hated his job, I slinked further into my corner of shame. Thinking over the power he once had at sea, the way his loyal crew respected his honorable command, and the amount of wealth he had acquired for his vigorous work, I said, “You are a king, Mason. You don’t have to labor like a peasant. Between us both we have enough gold to retire, living like royalty in any port we choose.”

“The only thing I am a king of now is this little family we have, and I am perfectly fine with that. I want that shitload of loot I have stored up to stay put in case we ever need it. If I ever get injured or if it so happens that I leave this world before you, you’re going to be able to afford a nice place to live and food and all the damned servants you’re going to blow through. You and that crying babe won’t ever go without, under my watch, Hannah.”

He sure knew how to make me feel like shit for feeling the way I did about things. “Thank you, Mason,” I mumbled under my breath. “Maybe I will feel better once we leave here. When do you think that will be?”

He let out a long, exhausted breath. “Maybe once Sterling’s done screaming about those teeth. But for now, it’s your job to take care of him, and I’m doing my best to make that as easy for you as possible. I’m exhausted, too,” he flopped down on his pillow, “and I have to get up with the sun, and with any luck you’ll be happy to see me when I get home, because this angry wife shit isn’t working for me.”

Angry wife? Oh my. Is that all I was to him, now?
Listening to him breathing as he fell back asleep, I began biting my nails. Since I mostly kept my hair tied back to keep Sterling from yanking on it, I had begun biting my nails to replace the habit of twiddling my braids. Hell, I didn’t even bother making my braids anymore. I was a wreck.

Sneaking out of bed, I lit a candle and looked at myself in the mirror over my dresser. My body had thinned to the point of sickness, and I knew Mason liked it better when I had meat on my bones. My braids that he loved were no longer existent, leaving only a tangled, unkempt mess of wild white hair. I started to brush it, realizing that I hadn’t done so in days. My eyes that reminded him of the ocean that he missed so dearly had acquired dark rings under them, and my lips that he loved to kiss were chafed and rough.

What had that child done to me? Good Lord, I looked like I had aged twenty years in the past seven months. Though my true identity had long been a secret to the world, I had always been Mason’s pretty little Viking, but now I was just an ugly, old, angry wife. Coming home to this shit everyday would cause him to wander. That couldn’t happen. I couldn’t lose him to another woman because I had let this baby tear me apart.

With the candle burning on the dresser, I took some time to braid my hair like I used to. I then lined my eyes the way he liked it done. Once I faintly resembled the girl he fell in love with, I let my nightgown fall to the floor and looked myself over in the full length mirror. Though my image was quite skeletal, my breasts were still bigger than ever, and my hips, though bony, had changed shape in a way that he said he liked. No matter what I looked like these days, Mason would be happy to once again have sex with his wife. It had been far too long, and the few times it had happened I was unenthusiastic about it. He was a good-hearted, good-looking man, and any woman on this earth would love to be in my position. So, as I climbed in bed and pulled the sheets off of his sleeping body, I told myself that no other woman would ever take my place. He was mine.

He let out a heated breath as I wrapped my mouth around the part that made him man. While humming in pleasure, he twisted his hand tight in my hair. “Ah, your braids.”

Kissing and licking and sucking on him until I was certain he couldn’t take it much longer, I then got on top of him and reminded him why he should never leave me. He grabbed my boney hips like I still had meat to squeeze. He caressed my rounded, leaky breasts as if he had never touched them before. The way he eyed me over in the flickering candlelight assured me that my plan was working.

Yes. This man I didn’t deserve still loved me, and if I couldn’t be everything he wanted me to be, I would fake it. I’d pretend to enjoy keeping house, I’d do my best to cook him meals worth eating, and I’d act like mothering our child wasn’t robbing me of what little sanity I had left. But this…the way I felt with him inside of me, there was no need to pretend I was pleased. Every moan was sincere, and every sigh trembled out from the depths of my soul. He was gorgeous—muscles perfectly sculpted from hard work, tattoos reminding me that he once was a sailor who had traveled the world, scars assuring me that he was ferocious when it came to those he loved and for what he believed in—and the way he loved me with his body relieved me of all my troubles.

Throwing me onto my back, he moved over me like the ocean rolling ashore. His breath was like thunder, the light in his eyes like lightning flashing across stormy skies, and his mouth was like sunlight, warming me to the core. The more this happened the happier I would be, and the easier it would be to survive the agonizing hours while he was away at work. And he would think of me, too. Yes, while he was away he would think of the way I was sucking on his fingers, and the next time he thought of finding another, he would remember the way I moaned his name and moved my hips beneath him. If the world could not know that Hannah was his wife, he would remember that she was the best damned whore he ever bedded and rush home to her every night.

X

Next thing I knew, Sterling had all his teeth and he was eating with us at the table. Within the blink of an eye he was crawling around the house, and before my eyes he took his first steps. I was so happy that Mason was there to see the magical moment, and from that day forward Sterling would run to greet his father at the door after work every evening.