Page 19 of The Last Lost Girl

“What’s so funny?” I ask, then grind my teeth as I consider what he finds so amusing. Is it the blood? The sand? The colorful bruises?

“Your shirt,” he answers.

I glance down at the once-white vinyl letters, confused.

“Exactly whose life are you responsible for guarding?”

I give him a Really? look. Just because I don’t flay people on the daily doesn’t mean I’m not good at what I do. I’ve saved several lives at the aquatic center, thank you very much. Five, to be exact. Saved – not taken.

Then a terrible thought creeps slowly into my mind. Did Wraith see the words and assume I could save him from the pirate?

Hook glances up at the gently lightening sky. “Pan will come looking for him soon, Lifeguard,” he says, pointing the tip of his hook in Wraith’s direction. “And with your ankle in the shape it’s in, you don’t seem like you’d be able to defend me against him, hobbling around like that.”

“I hate you calling me Lifeguard even more than I do the name Precious – which is saying a lot,” I snap.

The pirate answers with a sly grin.

I hate to admit it, but Hook has a point. Pun fully intended.

Now that the adrenaline has flooded and receded from my system, I’m in no shape to face Peter Pan. Or anyone else he might send to find and bring me ‘home’. I make the mistake of glancing at Wraith and turn away so I don’t get sick again.

Sometimes a person can lie to themselves and make their mind believe the lie. And maybe it’s an effective enough defense mechanism in some circumstances, but some lies are too outlandish for one’s mind to latch onto, no matter how hard you try to force it.

Like now, when I try to tell myself I’ll be fine if he just leaves me here. That I’ll run and hide and find a way to survive in this devastatingly beautiful but deadly place on my own until Belle remembers that she left me to die on the beach and comes looking for me.

Then honesty rears its ugly head and chides me: I couldn’t even evade the crocodile right now, it says. And while I give my truthful conscience the side eye, I know it’s right. Every ounce of strength I have left is being used for balance as I stand like a flamingo to keep weight off my ankle – an admittedly ridiculously wobbly flamingo.

The jungle behind Hook looks as treacherous and deadly as I know the shore is. I’m not sure what to do. I don’t want to be here when Peter finds what’s left of his friend, but I’m not sure that going with Hook is the best alternative. Especially as I consider the heap that is Wraith, even as I refuse to look at the mangled, lifeless boy again.

“Look at your mind work.” He laughs darkly. “Did you think I was actually giving you a choice, Lifeguard? You’re coming with me.”

He steps closer, then bends to pick something up. When my cell phone’s home screen flares to life at his touch, I’ve never been more grateful to Devin for stealing it at the pool the other day and plastering a goofy selfie on it. Because that means Hook can’t see the image I normally keep on the lock and home screens: one of me and Belle.

“That’s mine,” I rasp and grab for it.

He pulls it out of my reach, studies the image, and tucks the device into his pocket. I growl at him, understanding exactly how some people wind up on the show Snapped. “I’ll just hold it for you,” he offers with a smirk.

I don’t know what will happen to me if I go with him. Or what will happen to me if I don’t.

His eyes tighten as the first rays of sun burst through the canopy and shine down all around him, making him look like a dark avenging angel. “So many questions are burning in your eyes,” he notes quietly, stepping so close this time that his broad chest brushes mine. “If you’re wondering why I killed him, it was to save you. If you’re wondering why I’m taking you off this forsaken island, it’s because Pan wants you. And that means I will do anything and everything in my power to make sure that he can’t, and will never, have you.”

nine

Movement over his shoulders draws my eyes up. Hook swipes his tongue over his bottom lip before muttering a quiet but colorful curse. “Keep quiet,” he leans in to whisper into my ear, just before bending down and tossing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

I fight the urge to try to free myself because even in my muddled state, I can see he’s carrying me away from danger.

Wraith sensed Hook. He waited a beat to see if his instincts were wrong, then made the mistake of dismissing them. That flippant dismissal got him killed.

I do not want to be like Wraith.

Apparently, I hadn’t hopped too far into the trees last night because his wide strides swiftly take us into thinning palms just before they fade away to reveal crystalline waters. Sand sprays from the backs of the pirate’s boots as he strides toward the water.

“There are crocodiles in the shallows,” I quietly inform him, unsure if the panic welling in my chest seeps into my voice.

His hand tightens on the backs of my legs. “I know. I see them.”

“How many are there that you can’t see?” I ask, my voice wobbling like my good leg had only moments ago.

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