No matter how hard I thrashed, they wouldn't let me go. Their grips were firm and only seemed to tighten the more I squirmed. One man had his arms wrapped around my middle, trapping my arms, while another wrapped his arms around my legs to keep from kicking the one rowing the boat.
"Hold her steady," the man rowing barked as I threw my head backwards. I felt my head connect with the man's nose, and a howl followed the sound of a harsh crack, but his arms never uncoiled. Although I was glad to have caused some pain, I was hoping that he would have let go. The man swore like the pirate he was and complained as his nose had started to gush.
"We're almost there," the one restraining my legs said, a permanent scowl pasted on his face, "Then we can let the captain deal with her."
If anything could strike fear into me, it was the thought of coming face to face with Hook again. I felt my body freeze, and I stopped thrashing about. My muscles were strung tight, my breath caught in my chest as I imagined our reunion. It had been a long time since I had seen the captain, and who knew what he was going to do to me once we met again.
"The captain better tie her to an anchor and drop her into the bloody ocean," said the man with the bloody nose. He sounded as though he had a cold now, but I was sure that it was from the blood pouring out of his nose. I felt my heart sink to my stomach as I thought about it. The number of things that could happen to me in the next few minutes was endless. I could very well be tied to an anchor and dropped to the bottom of the ocean. I could also be hung from the lookout's nest. Who knew, I could even be fed to the monsters that lived in the caves.
Tears began to blur my vision, and as much as I willed them to stop, they didn't. I hadn't always had a bad relationship with Hook. In fact, I used to be a member of his crew. Memories of those days surged forward, but I pushed them back. I would not think about it. I was a criminal, even among pirates. I had committed the worst crime a pirate could commit: Treason.
I felt a few warm tears roll down my dirt stained cheeks as I eyed the massive ship that was becoming larger with each row. The Jolly Roger flew its flag high, and there was no mistaking that it was the flag of the pirates. Men could be seen moving about on board, but there was one figure that my eyes were glued to, and that was the man standing at the front of the boat, his eyes glued on me.
Killian Jones, or, as he was better known by, Hook. The captain, the worst of the worst, and the man that I fell in love with when I first came to Neverland.