Page 43 of The Last Lost Girl

The hulking man opens a crate and retrieves a short piece of wood wrapped in a length of worn rope. “You can sit on this, Ava. I’ll lower you over and hold onto the rope so you don’t fall.”

“Like a swing!” I try to chirp, but strangle on the words. A very wobbly-looking swing.

“Exactly,” Smee encourages.

“Tell me how to do this,” I ask the giant man.

Hook walks closer. “You do this… by letting me lift you over the rail while you hold tight to me. Then, you take the plank from Smee and thread it between those pretty legs and position the plank under the backs of your thighs until you can sit on it. Then, Smee will slowly lower you down.”

This sounds precarious. “How did you manage to wrestle her up there?”

He grimaces. “Anger fuels determination, Precious.”

“You have my name!” I snap, moving toward the rail.

Hook only smiles as his hand settles on my hip. I worry that he’s about to dig his hook into the other side when he gives my hip a squeeze. “Hands around my neck.”

My cheeks heat but I do as he says, threading my arms around him like I’m about to pull him down for a kiss. “Wait!” I hand the hammer back to Smee. “Until I get into position.”

Smee nods, then ticks his head toward Hook.

Hook, who seems ready to help me with this chore, even if he doesn’t want to.

Hook, who doesn’t expect me to latch onto him like a starving tick.

Who laughs as I climb him. I’m already terrified about swinging over the ship’s side, even if I’m determined to free this mermaid. He moves my legs up and over the edge.

“Don’t drop me!” I shrill, tightening my hold.

“Look at me, Ava,” he demands brusquely. My stare snaps from the churning water rushing beneath and around the hull to his waiting, calm, forest green eyes. “I’ve got you. I won’t let go until you tell me to.”

Smee hands the board to me. I lift one hand, then my arm, and then when I feel secure enough, slide the plank between my pretty legs like Hook said, and position it behind my thighs.

I can’t believe he said that. Probably to get my mind off the self-inflicted near-death experience that’s about to take place.

“Good,” Smee says. “When you’re ready, just hold onto the rope and sit back onto the plank. When you’re settled, let me know and I’ll move you closer to her.”

When I’m settled, I inwardly scoff.

My stomach drops when I sit, and I’m relieved when the plank holds my weight. I try unsuccessfully to convince myself this is no different than the cozy swing in Hook’s quarters, really. Except that if I fall from this swing, I’ll die. I can almost feel Death’s hot breath, snapping at me from below like a Neverland hellhound.

“Are you ready to let go, Lifeguard?” Hook asks.

The answer to his question is an emphatic no. No, I am not ready. I will never be ready. But I peel my arms from around his neck and move my shaky hands to the rope.

“It’s no different than the rope Smee used to pull us up from the skiff,” Hook reminds me.

But it is different. “I didn’t have a choice then. The skiff was sinking.”

He smiles and props his arms on the rail as Smee begins to slowly lower the rope. “And if you want to free the beast on my bow, you have no other choice now.”

“The hammer.” I remember that I don’t have it.

Hook takes it from Smee and hands it to me. He looks at the mermaid, who has quietly been watching the three of us. “If you try to hurt her, I will do far worse to you than this,” he threatens, motioning to the nails holding her in place. “Far worse.”

Fear shines in her large dark eyes.

I’m about to tell him to leave her alone when I see the hunger in them when she looks back at me. Maybe Hook saw the same before he reminded her what he was capable of.

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