Page 32 of The Last Lost Girl

“The pain isn’t just from you pinning her to your ship.” He took her most treasured thing away – her voice – forever. She doesn’t just hurt from her wounds; her very soul is damaged.

“Look beyond the pity you feel. Do you see her hunger?” he asks.

There is an intense sharpness about her – her glances, her gestures, her breaths. I nod. “I do.”

“That’s all that drives her kind now,” Hook says, casting his gaze out over the sea.

“Now?”

The corners of his lips lift like he’s proud I heard him. “The mermaids who make these waters their home used to be beautiful, as alluring to the eye as their song is to the ear. Their scales were vibrant and colorful, and they used to swim alongside our ships like the dolphin pods once did. They used to be our allies, used to crave the flesh of fish instead of humans. But that was years ago,” he tells me, a wistful sadness in the nostalgia that floods his tone.

“What changed?” I ask.

“Everything,” he hedges.

I guess it’s only fair for him to refuse to answer my questions when I won’t even give him my name.

He turns toward the ocean and rests his forearms on the rail as the sun sinks below the horizon in a final brilliant flash of gold. “What do you see when you look at me?” His eyes meet mine as he swivels his head.

I’m not sure how to answer him.

In the story of Peter Pan, Hook is portrayed as the villain, but my sister believes Pan is the true enemy, and I trust Belle with my life. Still, I’m not sure if she would consider the pirate any sort of hero. She never mentioned him at all until the other day when she translated that single sentence. Hook or me this time.

The mermaid certainly despises him. What he’s done to her is cruel, but part of me understands his need for vengeance. Everyone has shadows within them – darkness only they can feel. And that darkness sometimes overshadows the best parts of us.

If I’m being honest, there is a sharpness about him, too. A hunger, even though it’s different from the mermaid’s.

He craves retribution. He wasn’t lying when he said he’d do anything to have it, anything to keep Pan from prospering – or worse.

“I don’t know you well enough to answer that,” I finally tell him.

His eyes wrinkle at the corners as he smiles. “I’ll just have to ask you later, then.”

I don’t reply. I don’t plan to be here long enough for us to have that heart-to-heart.

He’s quiet for a moment. “We’re raising anchor soon.”

I fight the panic rising in my chest. “Where are we going?” If he drags me farther from Neverland, I don’t know when or how I’ll be able to make it back to shore. The shore that looks so close, but I know is too far away. My foot is better. I could risk the swim. I’m a strong swimmer, but currents in water this deep can be as strong as they are unpredictable. They can wear a person out just trying to break free of their hold or carry them far out into the sea – so far that escaping the sea would no longer be possible. Not to mention the uncertainty of what lives and hunts within its sapphire depths, if the rabid mermaid is any indication.

“Look at your pulse – fluttering so fast.” Hook lifts his hand to my neck and brushes his thumb over my pulse point. “Why are you afraid to lose sight of Neverland?”

“Because I lost something there,” I rasp, then meet his deep green eyes. “And I’m afraid I won’t be able to find it if I don’t go back soon.”

It’s the truth, even if I don’t elaborate.

He reaches into one of his pants pockets and pulls out my cell phone, wiggling it in the air. “This? Did you forget I had it?”

“Can I please have it back?” I grab for it, but he lifts it so high I can’t reach, even on the tips of my toes.

His eyes carry a teasing glint. “Ah, ah. Tell me what you forgot on the island first.”

Fine. “Just that. My cell phone.”

“Cell phone. Like a telephone?” he asks, stepping away to turn his back to me so he can study it.

I take a steadying breath. “A cellular telephone. They work off towers, not lines like telephones do.”

He holds it up for me to see the lock screen. “Who’s this?”

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