I step to him. “I have to go. Now. I can’t let Peter get me again. If he does, I’ll be lost, too.”
“I know.” He nods. “But I can’t let you go. He told me to keep you here. I can’t disobey.” He steps toward me menacingly, as if his body is rebelling against the revelations spilling from his lips. “I’m too strong for you. You can’t outrun me, either.” He glances at the knife on his belt. “Take it. Hurry!” His hand starts to move toward the blade, and I can tell he’s fighting it. I don’t want to hurt him, but he’s under Peter’s thrall. He can’t break it, and neither can I.
With a quick movement, I snatch it from him, then back up.
He doesn’t look surprised. If anything, he looks … relieved. “Do what you have to, Moira. Please. If you don’t, he’ll make me hurt you again.” Tears shine in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you again,” he whispers.
I see it now. None of the Lost Boys wanted to hurt me. If anything, they wanted to save me from Peter. I think back on how Tootles said Peter could get angry, how none of them ever talked back to him, how every Lost Boy—even Geo—still fell into line behind him despite their misgivings. They had no choice.
And now, I don’t have one either.
“Make it count.” He steps toward me again, his voice tortured. “If I can get up, I will. I’ll do whatever it takes to obey Peter.” He lurches forward, his arms swinging for me. “Moira, do it!”
My eyes are filled with tears, my hand shaking as I raise the knife.
“Please,” he cries. “Don’t let me hurt you.” When he lunges forward, I drive the knife into him, the blade slicing through his tunic and his flesh.
He stills, then slides to the cold floor. I follow him, my tears overflowing as I swipe the hair from his eyes.
“Slightly.” I cup his cheek. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He looks up. “I’m okay. Everything will be all right. Go. Please, Moira. Go, or this will have been for nothing.” He grips my hand, his body still trying to obey Peter. But I peel his palm off and back away. “Run!” he yells, and in him I hear Coy’s voice. He told me to run, too. I thought he meant for me to run away from Hook. But maybe … Maybe he wanted me to run from Peter. Maybe in the end, he tried to save me.
I back away from Slightly who’s still reaching for me.
“I won’t let him get away with this.” I keep our eyes locked. “I promise you, Slightly. I’ll avenge you and the others. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
He gives me a faint nod. His eyes close as he lies back, his chest moving once more before going completely still. Another piece of my heart cracks off and falls away, a glacier dropping into an icy sea.
But I can’t stay and mourn for Slightly. I have to run. I have to make good on my promise.
I have to make Peter Pan pay.
ChapterThree
The cave seems to go on forever, and I feel as if I’ve been wandering for hours. Every so often, I hear Peter calling for me. Each time, I freeze, my heart hammering as I peer around in the dim stillness. The candle I found along the way is almost out, the flame barely giving enough light for me to see just ahead.
Even so, I press on. I can’t give up, even if it feels like I’ve been going around in circles, barely missing colliding with Peter at each turn of the stone wall.
There has to be a way out. I’m going to find it. When I do, I have no plan, no way forward. Even if I get up to the surface, where will I go? A flash of deep blue eyes flits across my mind, but I shove that shit down with a vengeance. I’mnotrunning back to Hook. I realize Peter’s a liar, but when he spoke of my mother, I saw the look on Hook’s face. I saw theguilt. No, I won’t be returning to pirates. Besides, as far as I know, Hook may be dead. Peter may have killed him. That thought sits like a brick in my gut.
I’m getting ahead of myself. First, out of this hole and away from Peter. Then, if I survive, I’ll think of something.
The floor slopes upward a bit, and I stumble, my toe catching on a jutting bit of rock. It stings, but I add it to the list of maladies I’ve collected ever since I came to this hell of an island. I’m always hurt here. And now, I’ve hurt someone else. Maybe I set Slightly free, but it didn’t feel like I was saving him. It felt like murder. Like death. Like his blood on my hands will never come off.
“Focus.” I grit my teeth and keep going, then sigh as the floor slopes downward yet again. A darker area to my left suggests an offshoot. When I get closer, I see it’s a narrow passage, one I’d have to turn sideways to get into.
“Moira!” Peter’s voice shocks me with how close it sounds.
I whirl and hold out my candle.
“You’ll be safe with me. I’m not mad about Slightly. I promise. Just come back. I’ll protect you.”
God, I was such a fool to ever believe him. I should’ve relied onmyself, not some charming asshole who wanted to use me. My rage, an untamed beast that I’ve never truly become acquainted with, rises inside me like a snake from the sea.
“Moira, I’ll take care of you. You know me.” His voice is softer, a lover’s whisper.
It only goads me more as I stare into the crushing dark just beyond the reach of my sputtering candle.
