Pirate's Life For Me....

Brothel

  "What the bloody Hell are you staring at?" I glared at Jack as I sat in the snake tree again. After fetching me from the wrecks, Vane had taken off on a skiff with only his quartermaster knowing and didn't mention where the fuck he was going or when he'd be back.

  "I'm sorry, but to think that you of all people are the Black Angel.... It's quite astounding, really, but it makes sense." The man replied as his chin was resting in his palm.

  "You're still on that?"

  "Of course I am. There's been word of you for years, and to find out you were just a cook on a ship that we raided and sank is just....astounding."

  "You really like that fucking word, don't you?"

  "I can't really think of a better word at the moment. But to see the origin of such a tale, and to see where truth and fiction converge, it's not something a man encounters every day, you know."

  "Stop gawking. I'm not something on display."

  "You say that while lounging in a tree for the snakes in a brothel."

  "I haven't been stuck on land this long since I was 13, so excuse me for finding it relaxing to be off of the fucking ground."

  "Is that how you were on the Petrel as well? Preferring high places like a bird?"

  "No." I glared. "I remained in my den of a galley, or in the ocean to swim. And stop comparing me to a bird before I mention how you look like a scraggly alley cat."

  "....You just did." Jack's face fell flat.

  "Oh, my apologies. Guess it's too late now."

  "If it wasn't for your bleeding sarcasm, you would be much more pleasant company."

  "If I can't physically stab you for speaking to me, then I will do so with my words. Not to mention it keeps my brain tuned."

  "Brain tuned?" He scoffed. "Why don't you read a book instead? Oh, sorry, my mistake, you can't read, can you?"

  "I can read." I snarled. "But books are rather boring and full of nonsense."

  "Nonsense?! Dear God, woman, what world are you living in?"

  "The one where books are full of political views and the history of wars. Neither of those things holds my interest, so books hold no value to me."

~

  "Books are incredible." I stated. "Give me more." Jack rose his brows at me as I slammed the book he had lent me onto the table. A few nights ago, the last eight men left of Vane's crew had skipped off to Port Royal, but only a few honestly knew that they were actually led to the wrecks and killed. Not that I cared, I was busy reading the book the quartermaster had given me to read.

  It was fiction from cover to cover, a tale of Satan, Adam and Eve, and their little haven of Eden. I wasn't really sure to read it at first, but to finally have a book not on historical leaders or wars past was refreshing.

  "So you enjoyed 'Paradise Lost'?" Jack picked up the book from the table. "How about I give you some culture. Here are a few compiled works of Shakespeare." He smirked while placing another book in front of me.

  "Who the fuck is that?" I furrowed my brows.

  "A wonderful playwright and poet." The quartermaster pushed the book closer to me. "Now, read it."

  "If it's piss, I'm putting sand in your dinner." Picking up the book, I took it to give it a go. And, as days were passing with Vane still gone, I passed the time cooking and reading. It was often expressed how queer it was to see a woman with a book that was a cook for pirates no less, but I didn't care. I had the ability to read, so I might as well utilize it if there were works such as these that held my interest and staved off my boredom.

  Jack and Bonny ran the brothel, and I cooked only at mealtimes while a whore prepared food for the patrons in between then. Also, after the last eight of Vane's crew were killed, Max, the whore from the beach, returned to the brothel.

  "I'm sorry, but the income you've reported for the past two days is simply too low to be believed." Jack was talking to one of the whores while I was in the snake tree reading about some wild adventure that would be utterly impossible in reality. The boa was lazing over my stomach and legs, and I didn't mind since it wasn't biting me or anything. "I'm going to have to ask you to vacate your room, make way for someone else."

  Hardly glancing over to the working quartermaster, I scoffed. 'Those tears are as real as a crocodile's.' I thought, but said nothing as I found it amusing how weak Jack honestly was to women crying.

  "Oh, yes, yes. Here it comes." The woman sitting by him began to sob, and his face turned to a weird expression. "Ugh. I'll have you know I have slit men's throats while they have wept, begging my forbearance, and slept soundly that very night. If you were hoping to manipulate me, you are barking up the wrong tree." The woman sobbed more. "The wrong tree." Jack stated. "Jesus Christ."

  "Mr. Rackham."

  "What?"

  "Five pieces." The whore dropped the money onto the table. "Oh, look who's up and about." She popped off as I turned the page in the book, and Max walked over.

  "Who did you just service?" Max put a hand on her hip.

  "What's that?"

  "Who paid you those coins?" She clarified. "It was Captain Hallindale I saw leaving your room, was it not? A man whose sole desire is to be swaddled in canvas while he sucks on a fat, milkless breast like a nursing child. And the price we have always charged for mothering is 20 pieces, not 5."

  "Who the fuck do you think you're accusing? A handjob pays five. All Captain Hallindale had time for today was a tug." My head jerked up when I heard a loud smack, and Max had apparently slapped the other whore across the face.

  "Will your story hold when I ask him to confirm it? Or will you confess your crime now and pray that our new patron is more forgiving than Mr. Noonan would have been?" Max tilted her head, and the whore turned to Jack.

  "I swear on the body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ this will never happen again."

  "For your sake, it had better not." The quartermaster replied, and I went back to my book.