The Sea's Rough Magic Page 7

  Aaron took the offered hand and Ike hauled him easily to his feet. When Johnson was standing on his own, Ike drew him into another embrace.

  “Apologies, Captain,” Ike said softly. “I should have done something. Maybe we could have killed him.”

  Briefly, Aaron clung to Ike. It had been five years since he’d last seen the boy. For Aaron, most of those years—nearly all, in fact, had been a horror. Only those few days when James Dunbar had been aboard had shown him anything different. When Aaron could finally release his grip, he took a half-step back and took Ike’s face in his hands.

  “Ah, love, ye grew up so nice. Yer father would be so proud of ye,” Aaron swallowed hard. “How’s yer mum, darlin’?”

  Ike’s face grew sorrowful. “She died last year, Captain. The doctor said she had the cancer.”

  “My apologies, sweet Ike. Sarah was a good woman. Wish I could have been there fer ye. I- ,” Aaron swallowed hard. “Things have changed, love, an’ not fer the better.”

  Ike rested his hands on Aaron’s upper arms and noticed bruising on the former Captain’s neck. He reached out to touch the damaged flesh and Aaron flinched away. His eyes saddened. “I won’t hurt you, Captain. I-What’s wrong?”

  Aaron quirked up a corner of his mouth in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I know, love. I- It’s jus’ that I- McSwain ain’t been kind t’ me. ‘Tis hard fer me t’ trust anybody now. Things are goin’ t’ happen tonight an’, well, it ain’t goin’ t’ be good.”

  “Things? What do you mean?” Ike’s eyes darkened, as Henry’s had when he was concerned about something. “Captain, how long has this been going on?”

  Aaron drew away, unable to look Ike in the eye. “Near six years, same as how long yer father’s been gone. I- I’m a coward an’ a fool, Isaac. ‘Tis all my fault.”

  Ike stepped up behind Aaron and touched his shoulders. He watched, horrified, as Aaron inhaled sharply and ducked out from under his contact. “Captain?”

  “No, ‘m not the captain anymore. I jus’—wish ye weren’t here, sweet one,” Aaron muttered then wandered off into the darkness.

  Ike was tempted to follow, wanting answers to the questions he had but realizing that there was something very wrong with Aaron. He used to be so happy and hopeful, Ike mused, taking a seat on the bunk. That bastard McSwain is to blame. If Father were here, he would take care of the matter. It’s up to me now. He heard the odd sound at that moment. Listening carefully for a minute made tears come to his own eyes. Captain Aaron was crying.

  )O(

  Ike jerked awake when he heard the door open. Somehow he’d drifted off. He glanced around to see if he could find Aaron. McSwain stepped in, a grin of satisfaction on his face. “Aaron, ‘tis time. Look alive!”

  Ike rose, trying not to reveal how much the bruises hurt. “Leave him alone! He’s done nothin’ t’ you.”

  McSwain laughed. “You know nothin’, boy! Aaron, it ain’t a request. Get yer sorry hide out here.”

  There was no response. Abruptly, Angus grabbed Ike by the back of the neck and put his pistol under Ike’s chin. “Now, Johnson, or I’ll shoot the brat. He just has t’ be alive fer what we need, ye know.”

  Still no response. McSwain pitched Ike back onto the bed, grabbed the lantern from its hook and thrust it toward first one corner then the other. Aaron was nowhere in sight. With a snarl, McSwain seized Ike by the hair and marched up on deck. “Mr. Brennan! Benson!!”

  As they emerged from the hatch, it took just a few seconds to realize that not a single crewman was moving. They were all looking up at the crow’s nest. McSwain followed their gaze, as did Ike, and fell silent. Aaron stood on the rail of the nest, his thin form barely casting a shadow despite the blazing sun above them. Ike tasted bile at the back of his throat and felt tears burn his eyes. McSwain changed his grip on Ike so he could hold his knife at the young man’s throat. He glanced back up to see if Aaron had noticed.

  “Go ahead,” Aaron rasped before Angus could speak. “Kill ‘im. Put us both out of this misery. Do it now. I’ll wait.”

  For a moment, Ike was nonplussed. Captain Aaron wouldn’t kill himself, would he? He glanced up at the pirate who restrained him and he saw the idea form.

  “Have at ‘im,” He growled loudly enough for Aaron to hear and shoved Ike into the waiting arms of Garcia.

  Ike tried to pull away as he felt his clothes being stripped from him. “Let go of me, ye bastards!”

  There seemed to be hands everywhere upon him. Despite all his efforts, there was precious little Ike could do to save himself. A fist thudded into his ribs when he kicked out at one of the pirates and he cried out. He didn’t blame Aaron for this. He’d seen how damaged Aaron was, utterly bereft of any joy or hope, but he felt abandoned all the same. His legs were being spread and he knew that he was about to be raped when he heard the voice.

  “No!! C-Captain, please don’t!”

  “Avast,” McSwain spat the word out though his voice never raised above a normal speaking volume.

  Ike realized the men had stopped though he wasn’t released. His stomach roiled within him and he trembled. Despite McSwain’s orders, one of the men was pressing a finger up into him. He fought back a whimper and put extra effort in his attempts to pull free.

  “What is it ye want, Aaron? Ye need t’ hurry; the lads don’t like it when their sport’s interrupted, ye know,” McSwain had a half-smile on his face but the expression was not comforting to Ike.

  There was a moment of dead silence during which Ike managed to twist around to see what was happening. To his shock and horror, he saw Aaron crawling on his knees up to McSwain. He could only faintly hear Aaron speak.

  “Don’t hurt ‘im. Ye have my apologies fer what I did. Please, Captain, I’ll do--.”

  “Whatever I want,” McSwain wagged his head sarcastically. “Yes, we know that. What else will ye do?”

  Aaron’s eyes swung up to see Ike looking at him. He looked away immediately and Ike understood that he didn’t have any idea what he was going to do to put this right. Abruptly, the men released Ike and he landed hard on the deck, barking his knees badly on the rough wood. He managed to struggle to his feet and draw his trousers back up. When he was able, he glanced up to see McSwain had his arm around Aaron’s throat and was whispering something into his ear. Whatever he was saying made Aaron cover his mouth with a hand. He was about to charge over to Aaron’s side when the bosun grabbed him by the throat.

  “Cap’n McSwain wants ye t’ report t’ his cabin—now!”

  Ike considered fighting but decided against it. Feeling exhausted and helpless, he just wanted to go back to Tortuga, find old Smitty’s fishing boat and get his old life back. He was shoved into the cabin and the door locked behind him. Hot tears flooded his eyes when it dawned on him that he might never see Aaron again if McSwain should take it into his head to kill him. He found a bucket and heaved into it until he was drained. He drew a hard breath and slumped to the floor, pressing his forehead against the adjoining bulkhead.

  )O(

  Aaron stumbled as McSwain dragged him over the threshold. He cried out softly as the jolt made the wounds on his back bleed again then bit his lip. McSwain shook him by the back of his neck then set him on his feet.

  “Get busy, Aaron. An’ no tricks. I’ll give ye t’ Garcia an’ keep the boy fer meself if ye don’t do it, hmmm?” McSwain’s face was so close that Aaron had to pull back to see his eyes.

  Aaron glowered at him then said, “I’ll do it jus’—I warn ye, if ye don’t keep yer word--.”

  McSwain laughed. “Get t’ work!”

  Aaron pulled free of McSwain and turned to look for Ike. He found the Stern boy asleep in a corner. He’s so young, Aaron squinted his eyes closed to keep the tears from falling. McSwain should never have captured him. I’ll make that bastard pay. He knelt next to Ike and rested a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

  “Isaac, ye need t’ wake up. It’s time,” The voice, ruined as i
t was, grew thick with emotion.

  The eyes opened, golden in color like Henry’s. He’d fallen in love with those eyes so many years ago. And now he was about to do something that went against everything he believed in. He grabbed Ike by the wrist.

  “Get up. Ye got work t’ do,” He fought to keep his voice even, a hard edge to it. He stood and tugged lightly at the youth, who managed to get to his feet with more grace than Aaron expected. “Get on the bunk.”

  Ike’s eyes filled with confusion and he glanced from Aaron to McSwain. The cruel smile on the tall man’s lips told him all he needed to know. He moved to the bed and looked at Aaron. “D’ you want me t’ undress?”

  The words nearly undid Aaron. Swallowing hard, he nodded, deliberately gazing through Ike. As Ike shed his shirt then his breeches, Aaron felt McSwain move behind him.

  “Now, ain’t that a pretty sight, hmm? Boy mus’ be made o’ gold. Always did fancy the stuff, din’t ye?” Angus whispered, brushing the hair away from Aaron’s ear with the back of his fingers. “Look at that skin. Like the color o’ rum, the good stuff. Ye want him, Aaron, don’t ye? Ye want t’ throw him on that bed an’ have yer way with him, ye do. I can tell. Ye always pretended t’ be so noble but ye’re a pirate, jus’ like me. Take the boy. Do it without a bit o’ mercy or kindness an’ I’ll set ye free. Ye have me word of honor. Rape the whelp an’ I’ll let ye go free.”

  The words made Aaron tremble harder than even the touch of McSwain’s flesh against his own. It was such a temptation to believe that Angus could be trusted, as they had trusted him once, but he heard Henry’s voice in his head telling him not to believe anything of the sort. He found himself staring at Ike’s naked body. He was lying on his side, one arm resting on a hip, the other supporting him. The curve of a hip, the muscles of his thigh tensed to brace himself against the roll of the ship, the trail of dark hair leading from his mid-section down to where the sleeping cock nestled, the balls hidden from view. If he narrowed his eyes just a bit, he could almost pretend it was the Lash.

  Instead, the picture that came to him as he stepped toward the bunk was of a small, innocent face smiling brightly up at him. “Can I join your crew someday?”

  If I was drunk, Aaron mused darkly, maybe I could do this. Yet he knew, deep down, that he could never hurt Ike any more than he could have hurt Henry. Worse, he remembered many a day showing Ike how to tie knots or explaining the rigging or teaching him how to load and fire a pistol, and the boy’s eyes were always shining with admiration, the same look that now lit the golden eyes. It was tempered, though, with a touch of sympathy and a dash of pity. He knew he could never cause that light to die in those eyes; it was far too dear to him.

  He took another step forward then felt McSwain’s hand between his shoulder blades to propel him onto the bed. He fell against Ike and the young man’s strong hand caught him by the elbow. The warmth of Ike’s skin against his own shocked him. Had it been so long since he’d experienced the touch of mortal flesh? Feeling dizzy from the beating and from Ike’s proximity, he rested his forehead against young Stern’s shoulder.

  “He wants me t’ hurt ye, love,” He whispered, praying McSwain wasn’t close enough to overhear. “I cannot an’ he may kill me fer disobeyin’ him. If he does, all I can plead fer is yer forgiveness. Say ye forgive me fer abandonin’ you, darlin’.”

  There was a long hesitation on Ike’s part and Aaron felt every bit of strength drain from him. He had feared that Ike would hate him for throwing him to McSwain like this. Instead, he felt Ike’s hand squeeze his elbow gently and the young man replied in a similar tone.

  “Do what ye must, Captain. I’ll be strong fer ye, I swear it upon pain of death,” Ike lifted him slightly so their eyes could meet. There were tears in Ike’s eyes but he was not weeping. He smiled at Aaron, encouragingly, and Johnson felt the faintest stir of hope return to his heart.

  “Get on with it!” McSwain snarled.

  Every instinct within Aaron told him to refuse, to go so far as to attack McSwain, though it be suicide. Instead, another look at Ike made him change his mind. James Dunbar had shown him that McSwain could be foiled. With the memory of the navy officer’s gentle hands upon him, he gave Ike a conspiratorial wink then leaned in to kiss him.

  To Aaron’s astonishment, Ike’s mouth opened to his. The youth’s tongue eagerly teased his own. He felt Ike shiver a bit and leaned back to look into the amber eyes. Ike hesitated.

  “You don’t want me?” Ike’s eyes filled with disappointment and Aaron felt the ache in his heart.

  “No, love, no, that’s not true,” He murmured. “I- It’s jus’ that I remember that time when Hen—you an’ I argued o’er that mermaid. You remember, don’t ye?”

  Briefly, Ike’s eyes grew puzzled then he nodded, willing to play along if it was what Aaron wanted. “Where were we?”

  Aaron leaned in and kissed him, his hand trembling as it stroked down Ike’s side. “Just off the Barbary Coast, I b’lieve. She wanted ye t’ join her an’ I said ye couldn’t? What was her name, love?”

  Ike’s lips brushed across Aaron’s Adam’s apple. “Giselle? Or maybe Trout. I forget now. Can’t say as I remembered what happened next.”

  “Well, then let me refresh yer memory, mate. We decided a kissin’ contest would be the best way t’ decide who got ye. An’ while Giselle was a lovely maid who could kiss for days on end without comin’ up fer air, she didn’t quite have me skill or warmth. Fact, ye might even say her lips were cold as a fish’s, eh?”

  “Quit talkin’ an’ fuck him already!” McSwain snarled.

  At the sound, Aaron was brought back to reality. He reached for Ike’s cock, closing his eyes so he could make himself believe that this was the one man in this world or the next that had held his affection for any length of time. He heard Isaac groan when his hand, relatively soft for a seafarer’s thanks to his imprisonment, began to caress the penis. It went from firm to rigid within a stroke or two. Ike’s free hand worked his own cock out of his breeches and had him prepared in a few seconds.

  “On yer knees, whelp,” Aaron’s voice shook audibly and he knew he was fooling no one. As much as he hated it here, as much as he was desperate to be shut of McSwain and his cursed crew, he couldn’t rape Ike. He spit on his hand, swearing at his dry mouth and McSwain’s penuriousness with oil. As gently as possible, he began to press his fingers into Ike.

  “Oh,” He heard Ike grunt and paused.

  “Love?”

  There was a shade of reluctance in Ike’s voice but only a shade. The eyes he turned on Aaron glowed with desire. “Go on, Captain. I said I’d be strong, remember?”

  Aaron nodded, assaying a weak smile. “Very well, Mr. Stern. Prepare yerself.”

  Aaron watched the young man deliberately turn his face away and visibly force himself to relax. Aaron positioned himself, closed his eyes against the sight of McSwain watching them from the nearby chair, and pushed his member against Ike’s backside. He caught his breath as the head slid up inside the tight channel like a keel through a wave. Isaac grunted then spoke, forgetting that McSwain was watching.

  “Please, Aaron, I’ve been wanting this for so long. Don’t stop!”

  He’s a good lad, Aaron thought then the sensation of Ike’s strong warm body beneath him, the tunnel of flesh encasing his much-tormented manhood, caught up with him. The last one to give him pleasure—in any capacity, really—had been James. The memory of those sea-green eyes abruptly quickened his desire and he moaned against the taut flesh of Ike’s shoulders. He grabbed Ike’s cock in his hands and began to work him to the rhythm that he had established within him. He stifled his own cry of pleasure by seizing Ike’s flesh in his teeth as he climaxed, his hips losing their cadence in the chaos of desire fulfilled. Beneath him, he grew aware that Ike had flinched away from the pain of his bite but was working his own sword hard into the sheath of Aaron’s hands. As Aaron’s softening cock withdrew, Ike managed to bring himself to completion. But
the moment was all too brief.

  “Bah! What th’ hell d’ ye call that, Aaron?! Weren’t no rape. Guess it means ye’ll be me guest fer a bit longer, eh? Move aside now! ‘Tis my turn,” McSwain had him by the hair then and was dragging him off the bunk.

  “No,” Aaron said suddenly and thudded an elbow into McSwain’s side as hard as he could. “I won’t let ye do it! Ye won’t do t’ him what ye done t’ me. Back off!”

  He shoved McSwain away, slightly amazed that he was able to do so. He looked up into Angus’s face to see that the taller pirate was taking pleasure in his reaction. “An’ if I don’t, whelp, what is it ye’ll do?”

  “I’ll kill ye,” Aaron muttered, never meaning anything so much in his life. “I’ll kill ye as many times as it takes. I’ll rip yer throat out with me teeth. I’ll strangle ye. I’ll keep killin’ ye ‘til that witch takes pity on ye and makes ye stay dead fer real. Ye keep yer bloody hands off Isaac!!”

  “Aaron, Aaron,” McSwain drew his name out as if it were a fine wine being savored by a connoisseur. “Ye always were a fool. You are my property. A man’s property don’t tell him what t’ do any more than a captain’s ship tells him what t’ do. An’ now, pretty little Isaac there is mine as well. Stand aside, Aaron.”

  Aaron tightened his jaw and stepped in closer to McSwain, aware that Ike was at his back, eager to help him. “Leave us be.”

  McSwain’s fist caught him in the chin and threw him backwards into Ike. Not used to fighting back anymore, Aaron noted as he scrambled to rejoin the fight. McSwain was toying with Ike, dodging his swings easily. To the pirate captain’s surprise, however, Ike did land one good blow. It staggered McSwain and Aaron saw his chance. He lunged forward and grabbed Ike by the elbow. If it meant only joining the Lash in Davy Jones’s locker, he was willing to take just that chance.

  “Run, Ike, now! Out the door, love,” Aaron urged.