“Then you needn’t worry about my looks.”
Her eyebrows pop up at that retort. “There it is. Something fiery in you.”
“Honestly.” I throw my hands up. “I’ve been threatened with murder and all sorts of bad shit. So much so that at this point, you’re not really that scary. I mean, sure you could gut me in a matter of seconds, and I’m guessing that’s your plan. But, as you said, I look like ten pounds of shit stuffed into a five-pound bag—”
She snorts.
“And I feel that way, too. I feel like utter garbage. Peter drained me again and again, stole my youth, my energy, my everything. So yeah, I would’ve been prettier if you’d gotten to me before he did. But it seems we’re both out of luck.” I know I shouldn’t be sassing the vengeful sea captain, but I seem to be fresh out of fucks to give. “I’ve been kidnapped. Hell, your beloved husband kidnapped me and tried to rape me. That’s what got him killed. Notme. His own actions. Imagine that, would you? A man having to answer for his own actions!” I laugh, the sound just as unhinged as I feel on the inside. “So, yes, if you want to say I killed him, then fine. I killed him. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, and I’m glad he’s dead.” I stare up at her. No, I fuckingglareup at her. “As for your ship, well, I’m not the one who decided it was a great idea to shoot off cannon after cannon over a kraken breeding ground. So maybe you should take a look in the mirror on that one.” I clap my mouth shut before even more vitriol comes spilling out. I’m broken. I’m fucking broken, and this woman is standing here poking at all my jagged parts. It only stands to reason that she gets cut.
I rub my eyes and realize just how sunken they are. “God, I used to think I wasn’t much to look at.” I laugh into my hands. “But now? Now I realize I was a fucking goddess. Because I waswhole. Because there weren’t bits of me that had been stolen away. I was never lace, like you said. But I wasalive. Not floating in between life and death. Weak and useless.” I slump against the cave wall. “So do your worst. I’m over it. Completely fucking over it.”
She flips her blade in the air and catches it with ease. “Aren’t you a sorry sort?”
“Yes. Welcome to my pity party.” I’m tired, so damn tired of everything.
“I just lost my husband, my crew, and my ship. You don’t see me crying over it, do you?” She clucks her tongue at me.
“You might not be crying, but you’re here to kill me because you’re pissed about it. Maybe you should cry instead. Seems healthier than going on a murder spree.”
She smirks, her lips twisting into a smile. “You only say that because you’ve neverbeenon a murder spree. If you had, you’d know there’s nothing like the feel of fresh blood on your hands.”
“I have enough blood on my hands as it is.” I see Coy and Tootles again, Slightly too, their dead eyes and their fear.
“I suppose I should be getting on with it.” She glances out toward the Jolly Roger. “These fools will be on me soon enough.” She flips her knife into the air once more and catches it, then leans toward me.
“You won’t be touching her.” Hook’s cold voice wraps around me like the most comforting of hugs. He’s crept up behind Anne, his sword at her throat. “Drop the knife.” He reaches forward and yanks her gun from her belt.
Anne’s eyes narrow on me. “I was going to do her a favor. Look how pitiful—Hey!”
Hook’s drawn blood, his blade cutting along her throat and sending a crimson rivulet to her collar. “I said drop it, Anne.”
She lets it go, the blade embedding in the sand at her feet. “Ponce,” she hisses.
He pushes his sword forward, drawing more blood.
“Wait!” I scream.
“Lass?” He cocks his head at me.
“Don’t kill her!” I shriek.
“Why not?”
I flounder around, my words not forming anything intelligible. “B-because you can’t just kill her like this!”
“Why not?” Anne asks, confusion coating her words.
“Are you serious?” I gawk at her. “Do youwanthim to kill you?”
She blinks, clearly thinking over her answer.
I shake my head vehemently. “No. Nope. No killing. You can take her prisoner or something, but don’t just do a murder right in front of me.”
Hook and Anne both look perplexed, as if I’m speaking an entirely different language I made up five minutes ago.
“But lass, she tried to—”
“I mean it!” I rub my eyes again. “No more!”
