Mark of the Damned | 18+

Peaches

Song - Peaches by In The Valley Below

"Go straight to your quarters," he whispers before kissing my temple.

The tension on board is heavy. There is about to be a fight. The captain is pacing the deck, waiting as we climb out of the rowboat.

"Go," he pats me, sending me away from the visible rage surrounding Captain Cormac. His deep scowl is trained on me, a terrifying flicker in his eyes as he watches my steps.

Finding myself in the same position, again, I tuck into the corner and wait. It only takes a minute for the screaming to start. They aren't in the cabin this time, so I can't hear anything but the sound of their shouting voices and several loud thuds.

I have every confidence in Cooper. My mind wonders back to how fearful I was the last time I sat in this exact position.

Today, I'm not.

He won't let anything happen to me.

Eventually, the fighting stops, and the anchor is drawn up. Peeking out of my small window, I watch the sky. I feel so calm. Outside, there is nothing but clear blue. Inside, I am here, on The Sirens Call with Cooper.

A quiet tap on my door and the shuffling of feet outside make me smile. I already know what is about to be asked.

Potter and Mick are outside, standing in the galley, when I crack the door open.

"Dinner?" Mick shrugs nervously with a sheepish grin.

Nodding, I come out into the messy cabin. None of the supplies have been put away yet, and there are crates everywhere.

"We can help you," Potter quickly starts grabbing crates and loading them onto the shelves.

"You must be starving if you're willing to help in the galley!"

The three of us make quick work of storing everything so that I can begin lunch. I know potatoes fried in lard are Cooper's favorite, so everyone gets those.

When the first group is called to eat, I wait in nervous anticipation for Cooper, but he doesn't come. Captain Cormac does, and the sight of him makes me gasp. A bruised eye and a busted lip are the least of my concerns. The raw, bloody cuts on his knuckles are all I care about. What was on the receiving end of those punches? Hopefully not Cooper's face.

He sits in the corner, leaning against my door. I'm certain he hasn't blinked the entire time. He just sits, watching me, angrily stabbing at each bite before shoving it in his mouth.

Shifting uncomfortably on my feet, I wait for him to finish and leave.

When his plate is empty, I hold my breath, but he doesn't stand. Several members of the crew are also finished, but they're still sitting, waiting.

"Second," Mick yells suddenly, calling down the next group. Only when they loudly stumble through the door does the first group stand. My heart flutters in my chest. They stayed for me. To keep me safe.

When Cooper walks into the cabin, the tin dish I was cleaning falls loudly to the ground.

His eyes are dark and bruised, with a cut on his brow.

Rushing forward, I grab him, studying his injuries. Captain Cormac scoffs behind us, pulling himself up and storming away.

"I'm fine, Niamh," Cooper grumbles.

"Let her fawn over you, lad." Big Jones laughs. "The touch of a woman will cure all that ails you."

He lets me fuss over his injuries and press kisses to them for a moment before shooing me away.