When Cutthroat came aboard before, a fifteen-year-old with so much hatred in his heart, it was palpable, something told me it would change everything just as much as Wendy coming aboard had. Cutthroat was crass, rude, and called any accidental touch between men “disgusting”. It was clear what he would think of two men touching on purpose because he was so vocal about it. Pete and I stopped stealing as many moments for fear of what would happen if he found out. Worse, his opinion seemed to fester among the other crew, until others seemed to agree with him, until Pete and I were forced to stand further apart for fear he’d sneer and draw too many eyes. If they looked close enough, they’d see.
Cutthroat was just as rude to Wendy because she was a girl, no matter how many times she had her knife at his throat. She’d trained with Hook, was evenly matched with him now after years of working onboard The Star Chaser. It wasn’t wise to get on her bad side, but get on her bad side, he did. Wendy liked Cutthroat about as much as she liked the mermaids.
And then everything came crashing down.
“We can’t stay here long,” I whispered to Pete. We were both hunkered down below deck, hidden behind a stack of crates. “It’s become dangerous.”
“I just needed a moment to kiss you,” Pete rasped, dragging me close. When his lips pressed against mine, I sighed, desperate for him yet knowing we couldn’t, not while it was so dangerous to do so onboard Hook’s ship.
I made a sound in my throat when he hungrily devoured my lips, wrapping my arms around him in an attempt to get even closer. The space was tight behind the crates, but we’d made do with worse. I needed Pete as much as I needed air, and though it was dangerous to care so much for someone else in Neverland, it was far too late to curb the emotions that came with him. Happy thoughts flooded me even though our situation was strenuous.
To this day, I wondered if that was what drew him to us.
“What in the fuck are you two fags doing?” The voice came from behind us, so full of disgust and disdain, I knew who it was before we jerked apart and turned. Cutthroat stood there, his face twisted with the emotions in his voice. A pistol—where had he gotten a pistol?—was held in his hand, threatening, prepared to kill. Carefully, I moved in front of Pete. I wouldn’t allow him to die.
“We were just coming to check the crates,” I tried, hoping I could defuse the situation.
“Aye. With your lips,” Cutthroat sneered, looking between us. “There’s only one way to handle this, fellas.”
“With you turning around and forgetting what you’ve seen,” Pete said, his voice hard.
“Oh, I don’t think so, pretty boy.” He turned and whistled over his shoulder, more of the crew coming down, and I started to panic. I reached behind me and curled my hand with Pete’s, realizing this was going to go from bad to worse. “These two were kissing behind the crates. What do we do with men who do that?”
Cutthroat was working the men into a frenzy and that was never good. As they shouted out their answers, lusting for some sort of blood, I knew we were in trouble. If we were shot or stabbed, we were dead. If we were thrown overboard, well, the chances of survival were zero. My only hope was that Captain Hook would stop it. My only hope was that Wendy could.
The crew shouted and jeered, grabbed us and dragged Pete and I apart. I fought against them, and I earned a fist to the eye for the effort, but that wasn’t what made emotion clog my throat.
Pete didn’t fight, didn’t even try. There were too many to overpower and he knew it. Instead, he kept his eyes locked on mine, every “I love you” we’d ever said shining in his eyes. I choked on my tongue as I reached for him, as I fought to get closer, to take his hand, but they kept us apart as the shouts and cheers drowned out my words. My first tear fell before they ever carted us above deck. Someone’s fist slammed into my side, stealing my breath, but still, I kept my eyes locked on Pete’s. If we were going to die, I would die with his memory held tight.
The moment we broke on deck, Wendy appeared, her eyes widening as she caught sight of us. She drew her sword, her eyes picking out the men who held me, but then she looked over at Captain Hook, waiting for him to be the pirate she wanted him to be. Any person could have seen the emotion shining in her eyes if they recognized it. Anyone could see the Captain felt the same way. But too many years as the pirate captain and without Wendy had shaped Hook into who he was.
Cutthroat shouted words I couldn’t focus on, couldn’t understand. He worked the rest of the crew into a frenzy, working them until they called for blood for something they’d never considered wanting blood for before. Hook studied our group.
“What is the meaning of this?” Hook yelled, stepping forward, and hope bloomed in my chest. “Unhand these two.”
“Captain,” Cutthroat stepped forward, his sneer firmly in place. It was clear he didn’t really respect Hook. “I found these two being intimate below deck. They thought to hide behind some crates.”
Hook glanced between Pete and me, studying us, but he didn’t look surprised. Something bloomed in my chest, some sort of respect, because Hook had known. Of course, he’d known, and as long as we kept it secret, he hadn’t taken action. Hope filled me. “And?”
Cutthroat’s mouth curved into a savage smile, and I knew he was going to push every button. “Aren’t you going to punish them, Captain? Isn’t that your responsibility?” He turned to the rest of the crew, addressing them rather than the captain. I tilted up my chin and glanced at Pete. “These two men have committed blasphemy! They dare to lie with on another. What if it’s catching?” I scowled at his words, as if being attracted to boys was a disease. “What if blasphemy suddenly spreads?”
Hook’s brow wrinkled but the rest of the crew shouted for blood, jeered. They started to press in tighter to me and Pete, many drawing their weapons, and I knew, we were going to be cut up into tiny pieces and fed to the mermaids. That was the only option. Hook was strong, but he was trying to find a way to keep control.
“Stop!” Hook shouts and everyone quiets. Wendy stands away from Cutthroat and his nonsense, waiting, watching. “Justice isn’t taken into your own hands in moments like these. The punishment will be my call.” The crew tried to protest but Hook drew his sword. “Does anyone have a problem with that?”
“No, Captain,” echoed a dozen times over.
Hook met my eyes and I could see the calculation there. He couldn’t keep us on his ship. I could see that knowledge there. Perhaps, he would be kind enough to drop us on the main island. That was the only way we could figure things out. But how much was he willing to cave for the emotion shining in Wendy’s eyes? How much of a man would he be?
“They’ll walk the plank!” Hook shouted, and my soul shriveled in on itself.
I tried not to scream, not to shout and give the crew more fuel for their fire but I panicked as they jerked Pete and I toward the plank they set out, as they cheered and shoved Pete forward first. Pete meets my eyes, his jaw clenched, and there’s the knowledge there that he’s going to die. For that reason alone, I turn to Hook. I’d drop to my knees and plea if I had to.
“Please,” I begged. “He can’t swim.”
Hook tried to keep his face a mask, but his time spent with Wendy made him more human. Something flashed—regret maybe?—but it was too late for him to back down. He steeled himself again and looked away, focusing on a point above my head. He made his choice, and instead of learning from Wendy, he chose to remain who he’d been in the past.
I swallowed the emotion in my throat and focused on Pete. If I could go over right after, I could save him. If they let me jump after, I could stop him from drowning. Pete and I locked eyes, and all the emotion we’ve shared through the years, hidden behind crates, comes pouring out. I mouth the words for fear saying them would make the crew draw their weapons, but it did the trick.
I love you.
Too many crewman wrap their hands around me, holding me still as they forced Pete further out on the plank. This is it. This is the m
oment we’d feared would come to pass.
“Throw him overboard!” Cutthroat yells.
I couldn’t stop the shout that comes form my lips, the fear that I wouldn’t get into the water fast enough. I could swim, but I wasn’t the strongest swimmer. How far were we from land? I hadn’t even looked. “Noooo!”
I shoved at the men holding me, fighting them, until I found myself clawing at the deck with knees in my back, until my fingers grew bloody from trying to get up, to reach Pete. Someone began to stomp on the end of the plank, shaking it, and Pete couldn’t keep his balance. I watched as Pete tumbled over, the scream leaving my throat so anguished, I would have never known it came from me otherwise. So full of fear, I fought, but no one let me up. No one let me leap after him.
I didn’t have time to fight harder. I had no time to earn a brutal beating for my attempts. Out of nowhere, Wendy came running, her boots and weapons already stripped, her feet bare as they slapped against the planks. She leapt onto the plank and without a backwards glance, she dove from it, chasing after Pete. My heart froze. Would she save him in time? I fought harder. She would need help. Wendy needed my help to save Pete!
“Wendy!” Hook’s voice echoes around us.
That was where Cutthroat made his mistake. He could call us names and throw us overboard, he could start a mutiny, but no one who had any sense insulted Wendy. No one threatened her life. “I say let her die with the other one!”
Hook’s blade was through Cutthroat’s chest before I could blink, silencing his words, and the rest of the crew dropped into silence to watch, their frenzy forgotten. I fought harder to get out of their hold but there were too many knees on my back. My fingers left trails of blood where I clawed against the wood.
“Does anyone else want to tell me how to run my ship?” Hook sneered as he jerked the sword free. When no one spoke up, he stripped off his tricorn, boots, and belt, his coat. Without another word, the Captain leapt onto the plank and dove in after Wendy and Pete, three bodies now in the water.
Someone finally let me up with the change of events, releasing me, and I scrambled to the side of the balustrade, leaning over, searching for their forms. Hook was further, the waves dragging Wendy and Pete away as she struggled to lift his head above water. Pete was unconscious and my heart seized with the way his head lolled. Please, don’t be too late.
I pointed toward them, directing Hook as he powered through the water with the strength of a man who had battled the sea many times and won.
“Rope! Someone throw the rope out!” I shout, searching, but someone else heaves it overboard a second later. The three slammed into the side of The Star Chaser a second later and I winced at the air probably knocked from their lungs. When the wave retreated, I couldn’t see Wendy anymore.
“Wendy!” I shouted but my voice was probably stolen by the waves. Hook wrapped the rope and tied it beneath Pete’s armpits, gesturing for us to pull him up. We all heave, dragging him higher, and I hoped Hook can save Wendy after she saved Pete. If I lost a friend today, or Pete, if it was too late, I didn’t know if I’d ever think a happy thought again.
We dragged Pete onboard and the crew tossed the rope and another into the water, searching for the Captain and Wendy but they’ve been beneath the water too long. “Does anyone see them?!” I shouted even as I began to pump Pete’s chest, trying to rid the water from his lungs.
One. Two. Three. I pressed my lips to his and blew. One compression. Two compression. Three compression. I blew again. And then Pete spewed water out and I jerked him to his side so he didn’t choke. I patted his back, helping him get the water out, all the while waiting for someone to call out that Wendy and the Captain were okay.
“I see them!” someone yelled and relief fills me. I could hear them shouting at each other even over the waves. Wendy didn’t sound happy, but that didn’t surprise me. They were dragged onboard, both wet and tired, and Wendy’s eyes searched us out first, relief filling her as I helped Pete sit up.
“Are you insane?!” Hook shouted at her as she leaned back and stars up at the stars. “You could have died.”
No one interrupted them. In fact, most turned away and pretended they couldn’t hear the argument they stood witness to. But, Pete and I watched with rapt attention. After nearly losing each other, there was a separation between what we should have done and what we did. Life was too short to pretend, even in a land where no one aged.
Wendy turned to Hook, her face twisted with disappointment. It nearly made Hook take a step back, even then, and I almost pitied the asshole, even if he nearly killed Pete. He had no idea how to handle Wendy, had no idea that she wasn’t meant to be handled at all. “So could Pete. I wouldn’t have had to jump in, if you weren’t being an idiot.”
For long minutes, they stared at each other, but then Wendy stood and came over to us, kneeling to check on Pete. But I kept my eyes on Hook’s face, on the longing I saw there, and the realization of his mistake. Wendy was disappointed in him, had hoped he would fight back and argue that we should be allowed to love who we wanted. Instead, he’d reverted to his old ways because of a single asshole. It hadn’t taken much for him to choose wrong, and now Wendy would be wondering how many more wrong choices he would make.
I didn’t feel any remorse when Cutthroat’s body was shoved overboard and the sound of a mermaid shrieking in delight reached my ears. But I turned away from Hook’s face finally, dismissing everything.
He was no longer my Captain.
No, a girl who looked at the world without fear would be my Captain. I could feel it in my bones. Wendy was meant to be great, and if given a choice, I’d follow her to the depths of Hell before I followed the orders of a Captain who punished his crew for love.
Chapter Six
A week. That’s all that went by since the incident, but it felt like it took far longer than it should have, as if the very air was charged with change. None of the crew gave us any more trouble, and though it was Hook’s doing, it didn’t change my opinion of him. He could have done it from the beginning, could have stopped the savagery in its tracks the first moment Cutthroat opened his mouth. Instead, he caved and nearly killed Pete in the process. The day dawned and crested, and it felt different, like something big was coming. I didn’t know what, but Pete and I stuck close to Wendy. Something told me what was about to happen would change her.
We moved beside her, helping with her tasks before she leaned against the balustrade, exhaustion in her shoulders. Worried, I was just stepping forward to ask if she was okay when Hook appeared. There were dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping. Both seemed to feel the same, tired, desperate, agonized. “Are you going to keep ignoring me?”
When Hook leaned against the balustrade beside her, I moved just a little further away, but I could still hear their words, and curiosity has me staying close. Curiosity and that charge in the air.
Wendy didn’t tease Hook like she used to. She glanced up at him, her eyes holding all the emotions that Hook didn’t seem capable of understanding. “I’m not ignoring you. I’m thinking.”
“About ignoring me.”
Sadness filled me with his words. Wendy and Hook could have been another love story, even then, but both were too stubborn to see the emotions, both too blind to the emotion shining so clearly in each other’s eyes. I glanced at Pete and he nodded, seeing it too. Had Hook ruined it all? Was it really that surprising if he did?
“About how I feel,” Wendy sighed.
Hook tensed and I knew it wasn’t going to go well. The pirate Captain had never shown much emotion, and then here was Wendy, prepared to spill her heart out for him, in love though she would never admit it then. On that matter, neither would Hook admit his own love for her.
“How you feel about what?”
My hands stilled in my task, and I couldn’t even pretend I wasn’t listening anymore. The possibilities of this going from bad to worse were strong and we were all along for the journey.
“You. This ship. This world,” Wendy admitted, unafraid. “Something is in the air today. My skin is tingling, and I keep thinking, if this is the day I die, would I be okay with that?” My heart seized. Wendy was going for it. She was going to lay her heart before the Captain. Would he be strong enough to return the favor? “The answer to that is no.”
Hook stayed tense, but he tried to appear calm and collected, always the Pirate Captain, always the idiot. “When you say your feelings for me, do you mean how badly you want to skewer me with your sword?” His words were flippant, teasing, but the look in his eyes was anything but. For the first time, I saw true fear in Hook’s eyes.
Pete stopped moving, too, neither one of us capable of looking away. Here it was. This was the moment we’d talked about for years, certain that Hook and Wendy were meant to be. Now, it was up to them not to mess it up. But that’s the thing about happy thoughts. They had to be felt, reveled in, and then you had to admit you felt them. The admitting is the hardest part.
Wendy chuckled softly, her eyes trailing over to us where we listened before focusing on Hook again. She didn’t chide us for listening. She didn’t seem to care. “For a pirate Captain, sometimes you can be daft,” she says. “Have you missed I care about you, Hook?”
“I know you care for me as a friend—”
I frowned hard. Hook couldn’t be that blind.
“No,” Wendy shook her head, refusing to back down. “It’s more than that. You piss me off, make me angry, and I want to stab you often, but my heart also speeds up when you manage to smile, and I get excited when you look proud when we spar, and even though you were the reason we ended up in the water last week, it made me happy you dove in after me.”
Monstrous as a Croc (Daughters of Neverland Book 4) Page 8
