Page 84 of The Last Lost Girl

He nods to Smee, who kneels beside a chair he’s already dragged behind the screen, his arms out to steady me on it the moment Hudson lets me go.

I lean against the giant man, quaking like a nervous chihuahua. I love chihuahuas. And all dogs, really, but the tiny ones make me smile the most.

My skin is red. My arms. Legs… “I’m sunburnt,” I note absently.

Smee gives me a kind, placating smile and nods his head. I can tell he’s just going along with what I said. Which was…

Sunburnt. I’m not really sunburnt? “The fever?” I guess.

He nods. “It’ll be gone soon enough, Ava.”

“Damn those vines,” I curse. “And Pan. My mouth wouldn’t work, but when he was on the shore, I tried to tell him to go fuck himself.”

Smee chuckles. “I wish you could have.”

I drag my tired eyes to Hudson, who uses hand and hook to loosen the laces of his boots before stepping out of them one by one. He tugs his dark shirt over his head, revealing pierced nipples. Did I know he had those?

He loosens the ties of his pants and pushes them down his legs. If I didn’t feel like I was dying, I might choke at the sight of him wearing nothing but homespun… shorts. Boxers? I don’t know what to call them, but they are glorious.

He is glorious.

Every ridge of muscle tells the story of how hard he works to be the captain of this ship and hold the regard of his people. Every pale scar is a reminder of how hard he’s fought to survive this place. This life.

My stars. He’s beautiful.

“Your turn,” he says, his forest green eyes meeting mine.

“I can’t do this.”

“You have to cool your body down.” He starts toward me. “Arms up.”

I can’t, but I’m embarrassed to tell him that. Can’t get into that water. And I certainly can’t lift my arms. I’m too weak.

“Precious, I don’t like this any better than you, but you are getting into the tub one way or another. If we soak your clothes again, they’ll be much harder to peel off afterward, but I’ll gladly do it if I must.”

I see the determination on his brow. He will get me into the tub.

In my current state, I can’t exactly fight him. And I do need to get the fever down. I look like a lobster, even though everything inside me trembles like it’s been frosted.

How sure is he that this fever is from the plant? What if Pan’s gift is what made me sick? What if the bath won’t help?

When he starts to lift me to place me in the tub, clothes and all, I yell at him to wait. My arms are too heavy to peel far from my torso. It’s hard for me to admit, but…

“I can’t… arm.”

“You can’t arm?” Hudson says with a smile in his voice.

“Nope.” Smee is still keeping me upright-ish in the chair. Thankfully, the ship isn’t rocking as bad as it was earlier.

Teeth clashing, I barely push off Smee’s chest long enough for the good captain to lift the shirt over my head. He works my arms free one at a time.

“You can have your creepy clock back,” I tell him. I can’t lift the clock or the chain or find the strength to do anything more than tell him to take it if he wants it. “A lot of good it did us.”

“Keep it for now.”

If he thinks I’m going back to Neverland anytime soon, he has another thing coming.

“Help her stand,” Hudson tells his friend, ignoring my frown.

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