Page 39 of The Steel Rogue

A second of silence just before a shriek.

Bloody hell.

The two brutes came out of his quarters, the second one dragging Torrie, a knife at her throat.

Roe flew at them, shoving past the first man and barreling directly at the brute that had grabbed Torrie and had a blade on her skin. His dagger high and swinging before the brute even saw him, Roe stabbed it into the side of his neck.

The brute stilled, swaying in a wide circle for a moment before his hands fell from Torrie, his blade clattering to the floor. He dropped, stone dead weight, landing at Roe’s feet.

He saw Torrie’s face a split second before her eyes cringed and a blast filled the vestibule.

A pistol. Her pistol. His look dropped to her arm. Her hand shaking, her arm extended out past his elbow.

A thud behind him. Another body hitting the floor.

He looked over his shoulder. Face down, blood seeped from the back of the man’s head.

A body cracked into the wall to his left and Weston finished him with a quick slice of his blade. The other man Weston had already disposed of was crumpled in a pile in the corner.

“Stay here.” Roe barked the order at Torrie as he yanked free the dagger from his right boot and his grip tightened on his cutlass. He ran past Weston with a quick nod.

Out the vestibule and onto the main deck with Weston directly behind him, Roe was coiled, ready to attack in the chance that theMinervacrew had boarded theFirehawk.

Mayhem.

Planks yanking free, ropes being severed.

“Roe, what’s going on?”

Torrie’s breathless voice behind him sent him spinning around. “I told you to stay inside.”

“But—”

“But listen to a damn order when I give you one, woman.”

Her head snapped back, her fingers twisting on the dagger she gripped in front of her belly.

The deck went askew, the boards beneath their feet tilting as they pulled away, theFirehawkhitting swells as it turned hard to the east to sever connection.

Torrie stumbled to the side and, lightening quick, he grabbed her arm, steadying her balance. She had spun fully toward theMinerva, her eyes wide at the enemy ship.

Roe followed her look, only to see Bockton at the railing of theMinerva, watching their retreat with a sickening sneer on his face. He looked directly at Roe, then his gaze moved to Torrie. The sneer on Bockton’s face grew wider.

The blood in his veins turning to ice, Roe looked down at Torrie and instantly dropped his grip on her arm. He stared at Bockton disappearing across the swells.

Bastard. Again, the devil ship escaping its due.

And the worst of it was that Bockton had seen Torrie. Seen him grab her. Seen him abort the whole damn attack to get back to her.

Dammit to all hell.

Roe spun in a circle, scanning his crew, looking at the faces, noting who he did and did not see. Ticking off in his mind who was wounded, who was limping, bleeding. Ticking off the men that hadn’t made it back onto theFirehawk.

Three. Three of his men hadn’t made it back. Hal, Barry, Marty.

The rest of his men stood on the deck, steel still in their hands at the ready, watching theMinervacut through the waves. Its speed alone ensured they wouldn’t catch it. Not by the time they turned the ship around and caught the winds.

At the front of his crew, closest to the railing they had mounted the attack on, Des turned around, setting his back to theMinerva.