“Three African women.” With a boulder of grief in my chest, I rushed through an explanation of what I’d experienced in that hole the first day. “They were abused the same as me. One of them was pregnant.”

“I didn’t know.” His hands clenched, and he tilted his head to one side, staring intensely at me over his shoulder. “You have to believe me, Bennett. I would’ve never allowed you on this ship had I known.”

“I believe you.” I stood taller, tightening my fingers around the hilts of the daggers. “I forgive you. For all of it. Everything. That forgiveness came before you showed up. Now tell me what your purpose was with Priest Farrell?”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but we’ll discuss that later. And Priest… God’s teeth, if I only knew where he was hiding…” He swiped a hand down his face, making the blood smear. “I was going to offer him my protection in exchange for kidnapping you.”

My jaw dropped.

“I couldn’t free you.” He turned toward the admiral’s body, staring down at it with unbridled wrath. “Not without losing my career, shaming my family, and getting us both sent to the gallows. The day Dycker showed up, I decided to carry out my plan to find Priest Farrell. Only instead of capturing him, I was going to convince him to rescue you and make it look like a raid.”

My mind spun at the irony, and my mouth opened to tell him everything. But no words came forth. Where would I start? The compass? My marriage? Priest’s betrayal? My rescue plan? There was too much to explain and too little time.

“You trusted him with your body once.” Ashley watched me carefully, misunderstanding my reaction. “He would’ve remembered you. No man could forget.”

Oh, dear God, I needed to tell him.

“If I thought he’d hurt you instead of help you…” Possessiveness growled through his voice, but there was something else. Something desperate and strange darkening his eyes. “I would’ve killed him. I swear it.”

My gaze drifted toward the hatch. Did I just hear a creak? Footsteps on the deck above?

“Tell me you have a plan.” My nerves rioted.

“I have a plan.” He yanked the knife from the admiral’s groin.

“Be more specific.”

A transformation swept over him, his expression emptying before my very eyes. No emotion, not a trace of humanity as he stabbed a finger at the barrel beside me, silently ordering me to hide.

Then the door to the hatchway opened.

38

My pulse detonated as a pair of boots sounded on the ladder.

I crouched behind the barrel, completely concealed, and tightened my grip on the daggers. Any second, our visitor would turn and see three dead bodies and one very bloody commodore holding a knife.