“Aye, Captain!” several pirates yell and begin twisting some sort of crank shaft.
I hurry to the railing and lean over to watch the anchor drop into the dark waters, sinking beyond my sight in an instant.
“You never forget your first time at the hideaway.” Starkey leans on the railing beside me. “You’re going to love it.”
“Lay off, Starkey.” Hook’s growl sends a tingle down my spine.
“Yes, Captain.” He winks at me before dashing away.
Hook glares at him for a while before turning to me. “Come, lass. I’ll row you to shore.”
He whistles, and Bill and Smee work on lowering one of the rowboats to the water below.
“I hope you don’t think I can climb up there.” I point to the sharp cliffs that rise like pincers on either side of us. “I’m barely standing from getting my ass kicked by Widow and Bill.”
“You did well today. Keep it up and you might make a fair pirate.”
I give him a sidelong look. “In the market for another crew member?”
He meets my eyes, a sparkle in his. “A good pirate’s worth their weight in gold. I’d pay you well.”
“Hmm, that’s a nice offer, but I’m not much for gutting or stabbing or pillaging. I’m afraid I can’t meet the job requirements.”
“You’d be surprised at what you’re capable of when it’s you or them.” His tone sobers.
“That got dark pretty fast,” I whisper.
His smirk returns, that near half smile that makes something clench low in my stomach. “Come on, lass. Let’s go ashore. Maybe you’ll change your tone when you see what a life of piracy can get you.”
Chapter
Eleven
I have got you home again, and I mean to keep you.
“So, this is Hook’s Hideaway?” I follow him up a wooden pier and onto the sandy shore.
He gives me a look over his shoulder. “I’ve never called it that. I don’t know who on my crew did, but if I discover him, he’ll be swabbing the deck by himself for a month.”
My money would be on Starkey, but I don’t mention that.
“This is my home on the island, yes.”
“But your real home is the Jolly Roger?”
“The sea. Has been for almost as long as I can remember.” He climbs a few steps, then turns and offers me his hand.
I take it, and he pulls me alongside him until we reach a wooden platform with ropes around the four corners that are attached to something in the cliff above. “What’s this?”
“Just a little something Smee and I built.” He points through the trees. “We got tired of the stairs.”
I peer through the greenery and barely pick out a staircase hewn into the cliffside. It’s a switchback that moves back and forth for several stories until it disappears into more greenery.
Shaking my head, I say, “I, too, am tired of the stairs, and we only just met.”
He gives me a wry smile, then begins to turn a large hand crank at the back of the wooden platform. It begins to move upwards, and I scoot back until I’m standing beside him in the center.
The ground moves away from us at a frightful pace, and I get a good view of the Jolly Roger and all the pirates disembarking from it. They carry chests and other goods from the ship and load it into the rowboats, all under Smee’s watchful eye.
