That’s when I notice he isn’t wearing a shirt.
My mouth goes dry.
“Can Bill show Moira some hand-to-hand when I’m done with her sword lesson?”
Hook stares down at us, then in a lithe move, he grabs a rope swinging beside the crow’s nest and slides down. His feet hit the deck, and then he’s standing only a few feet away. Scars litter his torso, a particularly nasty one along his left side. His tanned skin is dusted with dark hair, and underneath he’s solid, his muscles undeniable.
My mouth was dry before. Now it’s a desert.
“Bill?” Hook gestures toward me.
Bill sizes me up.
I try to stand a little straighter.
“No.” Bill crosses his arms over his wall of a chest.
“What?” I glare at him. “I can fight!”
Bill doesn’t blink.
Hook faces him, giving me a view of his back. I lean on the railing as I stare at every bare inch of him. Is there a weight room on board? Is that what’s happening? Because, jeez, he looks like he’s carved from stone. Chiseled, tanned, and with more scars, some matching the ones on his front. He’s been through hell.
“Close your mouth,” Widow whispers.
I do as she says, and I can feel my face going hot with embarrassment. The last thing I need is to be checking out my captor, especially when his goal is my murder. I don’t care what he says; I know what he’s capable of. I’ve seen it. I shouldn’t have to keep reminding myself that Hook is an evil man. Not after what he did to Coy. It’s just so jarring—he’s taken care of me, and now he’s letting me learn to fight. I have no illusions about his power on this ship and over everyone around him. If he said the word, I’d be tossed below decks somewhere and chained to the wall. But he hasn’t done that. His kindness is a pebble in my shoe, and I feel it with every step I take.
The men are in terse conversation, their voices low and impossible to make out over the hiss of the wind and water.
When they finally seem to come to some sort of agreement, Hook steps back and turns to me. “He’ll spar with you.”
“Good.” I look up at the now scowling Bill Jukes. “I think.”
“He won’t go easy on you, lass.” Hook scratches the ever-present 5 o’clock shadow on his cheek. “I told him you’re fair game during sparring.”
My insides twist at that. Maybe I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. In fact, IknowI have. I’m not athletic. I get winded when I have to climb the stairs in the dorm quickly—which I only do when a regularly athletic person is behind me, and I’m trying not to embarrass myself.
Hook smirks. “No going back now, lass. After all, you’ll need to defend yourself when I come for your head. Isn’t that right?” He strides away and barks orders at two of the deckhands.
“Did … Did he just tease me about my eventual murder?” I ask Widow.
She shrugs. “Pirates live on gallows humor. Don’t worry … too much.” Then she moves more quickly than I ever have in my entire life and knocks me on my ass with a sweep of her leg.
“Hey! I wasn’t ready!” I reach for the wooden sword I dropped.
“Stay on your feet.” She hauls me up. “That’s the most important lesson of all the ones you’ll learn from me. If you’re on your feet, you have a chance. If he gets you on the ground, your options narrow.”
“You didn’t even give me a chance to get set.”
“You think Hook will give you a chance to get set if he’s coming for your life?” She tsks. “Think again.” She whirls, knocking me on my ass yet again. “I’ve seen him kill half a ship full of pirates. Alone. Just him and his sword.”
“Really?” I swallow hard and get back to my feet.
“Really.” She nods. “And if he so much as thinks there’s a Lost Boy nearby …” She whistles and swings her sword at me.
I fling my wooden blade up and block her strike, the impact vibrating down my fingers and into my wrist. “I know what he does to Lost Boys,” I say quietly. God, I wish I didn’t. But I can’t say that out loud.
She steps back and lowers her blade, her gaze softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”
