Forever Neverland(50)

She swallowed hard and then nodded. “Yes. When I can.”

“When you can?” he questioned, raising a brow.

“In my world. . . .” She paused, looking at the floor. Then she shook her head and shrugged. “They want me to stop. They don’t believe in you –” she waved her arms around them, “in any of this, and they say my stories are dangerous.”

Lightning flashed again, thunder rocking the cabin. Wendy gasped at the sound and Hook frowned. Above them, they could hear the men yelling to one another.

“I must go above. Remain here.”

“My brothers!” Wendy shouted, bringing him to a quick stop as he reached the door of his cabin. He turned to face her.

“Please, I need to know they’ll be okay during the storm. May I join them?”

Hook’s grip tightened on the door. There was no way he would allow Wendy to go below securely battened hatches with his men. She would remain here with him.

“The storm has little wind, Wendy. If it were going to be worse than I believe it will be, I would either insist that we brave the waves and go ashore to leave the ship or raise the anchor and attempt to sail away from it,” he explained. So far, it was the truth. The storm was loud with thunder, but the ship was not listing or pitching as it would in hurricane winds. “Your brothers will be fine below deck with my crew. You will remain here in my cabin.” He tried to urge some gentleness into his tone. “It’s where you’re safest.”

With that, he opened the door and left the room, shutting it once more behind him.

Chapter Seventeen

Outside, the gathering wind played with his hair, sending it flying about him in wild locks of raven black. He stood there, on the threshold of his quarters, and fingered the small gold key around his neck.

Then, before he could change his mind, he lifted the key off and locked the door. When he was finished, he lowered the gold chain over his shoulders once more and tucked it beneath his black undershirt. Then he lifted his face to the darkening skies.

He might be wrong about the storm. The clouds were roiling overhead, deepening and growing taller. There was a chill in the air around him. Someone called to him from the shrouds on the foredeck. He glanced in their direction. Then he stepped away from the door, wondering if he’d made the right choice.

*****

Wendy stared, wide-eyed, at the door that Hook had just locked.

He locked it! He locked me in! Her mind screamed the accusation. She could die in that cabin! She was no fool! In storms, ships were unstable – anything not locked down and securely fastened in place could fly around the quarters and knock people unconscious or kill them outright. The ship could go down, in fact, and she would be there, locked in the cabin, to go down with it!

On impulse, she rushed forward and tried the handle. It was latched tight and wouldn’t budge. She made a frustrated sound that was drowned out by the next flash of electric light and peal of thunder. The ship rocked slowly to one side and real fear began to set in. She thought of her brothers – little Michael. Would Hook make certain the child was somewhere safe?

The noises above were beginning to wane. The footfalls became fewer and far between. A few pirates shouted to one another and she could easily discern Hook’s booming voice above them all as he bellowed orders to his crew. She listened and made out a few terms. . . mizzen. . . brail. . . cables. . . .

She could hear the hatches slamming shut and wooden bars being slid into place. The wind knocked grappling hooks and other metal things into the wood of the ship. It sounded like drums before a funeral.

And then one series of knocking sounded louder than the others. More persistent and urgent. Wendy frowned and turned in the cabin, facing the windows.

There at the glass was Peter, dressed in black, framed by a darkening, antagonized sky. His green eyes flashed in the next strike of lightning. He caught her gaze and pressed one hand to the glass, motioning for her to come over.

Wendy rushed to the window and fought with the latch. After a few tries, the thick steel bolt slid open and Peter ripped the window open.

“Hurry!” he hissed, glancing nervously toward the door to the cabin behind her. “We don’t have much time!”

Wendy was more than surprised to see him and there were a thousand questions she wanted to ask him, but first from her lips was, “Peter! Are you okay? What happened to you?” She tried to keep her voice low, but excitement crept in around the edges and she could barely contain it.

“I’m fine!” he whispered loudly, a frustrated note to his tone. “Please, Wendy! Come through the window!”

She moved forward, but then hesitated. “No!” she told him, with a shake of her head. “Peter, I can’t! My brothers are down below; I can’t leave them!”