by Xavier Neal
Lies, Mistrust and Fairy Dust
Never Say Neverland 3
By Xavier Neal
© Xavier Neal 2015
Published by Entertwine Publishing
Cover by Entertwine Publishing
All Right Reserved
License Note
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form with authorization of the author, Xavier Neal and or publisher, Entertwine Publishing.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedication: To The Universe, Thanks for the Fairy Dust in life.
“Laws are spider webs through which the big flies pass and the little ones get caught.”- Honoré de Balzac
Chapter 1
My index finger tip runs down the sand jail cell bar that's keeping me captive. The bar feels warm like it's freshly created, but something tells me that's another mere illusion of this strange place. I stroll over to the small window, which is also blocked by sand bars, and admire the fact it's raining sand. Impressive yet dreadful. This is even more depressing than actual rain. After all real rain erases the dirt, pain, and mistakes from the world, while raining sand just seems to add to it. Feeling my stomach churn, I turn and slide my back down against the gritty sand wall. The sand beach floor sucks as much as the rest of the cell.
After all this time I've learned two things about my life with Justin Ryan in it. Number one, he'll always be there to save me. Number two, he's most likely the one to put me in danger. Why he and Peter thought stealing a chest full of jewels from a group of pirates would be a good idea is beyond me. You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I'm not really sure they have any idea what a good idea is.
With my knees nestled against my chest, I lower my head and shut my eyes, the steady scratching sound playing like a miserable symphony determined to lull me to a slumber.
My eyes sneak a peek at Justin who's stretched out on the bed beside me. His signature fedora is lost in our luggage that's tangled together like we are. Another beautiful reminder how our lives are weaving together. I admire his loose black tie and disheveled dark brown hair, a look he would find appalling. A couple strands out of place and he throws a tantrum. Lovingly, I continue to adore the little imperfections about the infamous Justin Ryan that very few people in the entire world get to see. The little wrinkles by his eyebrows. The light snoring. Even the little drops of drool from sleeping so soundly. It's crazy, but I think I love the man behind the curtain more than the one who puts on a grand show. Carefully, I stroke the fine line of hair that's struggling to come in along his jawline. I smirk at the fact it's trying to age him. It won't be successful. That's the beauty of never growing old. It's hard to believe it's only been like a week of not growing up and I already feel like I've lived a thousand lifetimes. Running heists and stealing magical objects will do that to a person. Well, that and risking your life on a daily basis.
Quietly I slide onto my knees to look out our port hole. A gasp leaps out of my chest as I see us approaching something that resembles a tornado filled with bright reds, golds, oranges, and pinks. There's clouds, dust, rocks, and other objects I can't quite make out. This has to be the nebula that's on my bracelet.
I hold up my wrist to the compare it with the view when an arm around slides around my waist. “Nervous?”
Thankful Justin is awake, I whisper, “A little.”
He positions himself behind me, wraps both his arms around my waist, and leans his head on my shoulder. With his lips gently pressed to my ear he says, “Brace yourself.”
At that moment the ship takes warp speed, we're sucked into the nebula like I imagine being stuck in a vacuum, with just as much force, just as much speed, and even a bit of nausea. The pressure feels as if it's trying to make my head pop off. How can anyone get used to this? How can Justin just hold me rather than brace himself? My hands land on his and grip tightly, the force increasing as the speed tears us through the cosmic mess straight for a glowing dense red cloud.
On a sharp breath, I shoot my honey brown eyes open, my own vanilla colored hand clutching my waist where it felt like it was just resting with Justin's. Disappointed I'm still in the sand trap, I wrap my arms back around my legs, and rest my head on top once more. Geez, how much longer am I gonna rot in this prison?
Suddenly I'm not alone as a surprisingly warm face appears between the bars, his green eyes shimmering. He's got glistening tan skin, a marble cut face and a lean but muscular stature. I cautiously continue to study everything I can about him. His white tank top covered chest. The skull and cross bone tattoo on his neck. The intricate tattoo design of a pirate ship with bright red sails that's sneaking out of his shoulder and down towards his forearm. That looks painful. For a moment the pirate lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face revealing an intense six pack of abs. Wow. Like wow. When he covers the view back up, I look away slightly disappointed the gorgeous view is gone.
After a long look from the direction he came he sighs, “You OK?”
Surprised he cares, I nod slowly. I'm terrified, but it's probably better not to show it. “You a pirate?”
“Yeah.” His soft smile is the kindest thing I've seen in the hours I've been trapped here. At least I think it's been hours. Surely it hasn't been days has it? Justin wouldn't...couldn't leave me here for that long. Right?
“You don't look very...'piratey',” the comment makes him chuckle. I'm just surprised that I have the courage to say anything. A couple weeks ago, in a situation like this I would've been too terrified to speak. I guess I'm settling into being a Lost Boy more and more every day. Lost Girl? Not sure on the terminology still.
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Where's the eye patch?”
“Eye patch?”
“You know! The black one, over one eye with a skull on it or something.”
“Both of my eyes work fine. If I wore a patch, I wouldn't be able to see very well.”
“Hm. Where's the parrot?”
“A parrot? Why would I have a parrot?”
“Because pirates have parrots.”
“Why would I want a bird on my shoulder, mocking my every sentence, informing enemies we're nearby, and who could potentially crap on me throughout the day?”
Valid point. Why don't you think about those things as a kid?
“You could at least have the stripes...” my sentence comes out in a playful tone, grateful he's not pointing a weapon in my face. In fact, I hope all pirates are this nice. I doubt they are, but I'm the hopeful type.
“I don't look good in stripes,” he assures me. “Or the neon yellow colors of the Neverland Prison System.”
Neverland. A place I swore I’d be at by now. I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever make it there or just die on the journey. God I hope I don't die on the journey.
The pirate chuckles under his breath while shaking his head. “Those story books really have ruined what we look like huh?”
I stretch my legs out in front of me while my eyes glance over his dark features again this time noticing how his hair is so dark I'm not sure if it's black or brown. The style isn't quite a shag, but more like he's just waiting for his mother to force him to get his hair cut. Honestly, I enjoy looking at him much more than the sand walls. And from the flicker in his eyes as they roam across my body, I'm starting to think maybe he enjoys looking at me too.
After a small pause he asks, “What's your name anyway?”
Nervously, I push a strand of my
honey brown hair out of my face. “Peyton.” Just my first name is for the best. Any time I drag my last name into the situation trouble begins. I swear if I didn't know any better I’d say my last name was on a wanted poster because every time it slips out someone tries to kidnap me.
“Kody.” He tosses me a wave. Turning so his arms are resting on the bars, like some sort of pin up model he continues, “What are you in for?”
My head bobs around and I search for a calculated answer. “Friends stole some things from...you and your crew. Your friends are holding me as leverage until they get their merchandise back.”
“Got it.” And then he does something he should always do because it's quite flattering. Kody smirks. “You know, of all the prisoners we've had, you're definitely the most beautiful.”
“I doubt it.”
“I don't.”
I blush and bite my bottom lip looking away. I'll never understand how everyone thinks I'm just this glowing gorgeous beauty, but I will admit, it is doing wonders for my self-esteem.
“Even more beautiful when you blush.” My face flushes once more and I try to fight back a smile. If it wasn't for Justin or the fact that Kody is indeed a criminal, I would definitely give him a chance to steer the conversation in the direction of a date or something. At the very least if I could sketch like I used to, before I had to give it up, I would devote several pages to all of his features. Every single one.
“Hook!” a voice calls from the distance, the name echoing off the walls.
“Yeah?” Kody calls back, eyes still fixated on me.
“Captain wants everyone front and center,” the voice calmly replies.
His eyes drink me in like I'm the only thing to cool him on a day this scorching. “Yeah, in a sec.”
He grins widely at me. What is it about me that seems to attract all the wrong kinds of guys?
Kody calls me over to him with a simple hand motion. In response I do as he requests. His expression falls to one that's smoldering and low, just above a whisper, “You know, if I break you out, you have to run away with me.”
I giggle, my hands wrapping around the warm bars. “Oh yeah?”
The voice speaks again, now harsh in it's demand, “Now!”
His hand unwraps one of mine from the bar and plants a gentle kiss on the back. “Until next time Peyton.”
“You think there'll be a next time?”
Kody winks and backs away slowly. “I know there will be.”
“Until then.” I raise my eyebrows in response watching him fade out of my sight. Again, do I just scream bad guys fall all over me? Do I radiate a certain innocence they just can't help but fall to pieces over? Or at least pretend to fall to pieces over? So far my track record with guys isn't the best.
My lips clamp closed as I back away from the bars to pace the small cell that makes me feel like I'm in a shoe box. The thought of his name joins the whirling wheel of information I'm still having trouble categorizing, particularly since there hasn't been much down time. Kody Hook huh? I don't remember that being his name. Wasn't it like John or James in the fairy tale? Wonder where that name came from. And I thought Hook was captain! Kody's probably the same age as me and clearly nowhere near ready to be a captain, though if he was, I might think of joining that crew. Oh. Peyton! What am I doing? I have a wonderful boyfriend who is on his way to rescue me and I'm busy thinking about running away with pirates. Pirates! That's just awful. Wasn't Hook also an old guy? I mean not grandfather old, but way older than the teenage guy who couldn't be a day older than eighteen. And if it's the Hook from all the stories, how'd he get the reputation for being so special? Then again how did Peter get to be so special? So many questions, yet no answers. This is becoming the story of my life.
My body slides against the wall, collapsing to my previous position. With closed eyes I run my fingers through my hair. I'm not sure how much longer I can take this. Suddenly there's a loud thud behind me causing my body to lunge forward. Scrambling my body backwards, I brace my back against the wall as something scrapes and claws at it from the other side. Dust starts to fly at my face, so I put my arm up to protect my eyes. I do my best to squint through the dust, curious to why there's no sound but progress definitely being made. I stifle my coughs in hopes of not drawing too much attention to me as I watch a thin line being drawn on the cell wall. Before I know it, a hole in the wall pops open and a familiar face slips in.
“Miss me?” Justin asks tilting his black fedora up. Seeing his glowing blue eyes and charming smile relieves something inside.
“I had hope you would save me.”
Stuffing the thin string that resembles dental floss back in his pocket he quotes, “Dr. Robert Anthony said 'Hope is the expectation that something outside of ourselves, something or someone external, is going to come to our rescue and we will live happily ever after'.”
“Well get me out of here and take me to that happily ever after,” I demand crawling towards him, the sound of footsteps steadily approaching.
In one swift move, I slide out of the hole and steal a glance behind me once I'm on the other side. To my surprise Kody is standing outside the cell with a cocky grin. After he gives me a congratulations nod, he leans his face between the bars, blows a kiss, and whispers, “Bye Peyton.”
“Bye Kody,” I coo back before being yanked towards Justin.
My body ungracefully lands on the gritty ground, tasting the material my very cell was built from.
With an unpleasant look on his face he questions, “Were you flirting?”
“Jealous?”
“Maybe...” He winks and pulls me down the mountain of dark brown sand. We slide splashing sand around us like water, causing it to land everywhere from my hair to the inside of my jeans. Talk about uncomfortable.
Finally reaching the bottom, the two of us sprint across the sand field towards a dirt bike parked on the side of the road. Bullets begin clinking off the road and light posts informing us that the pirates are not too happy with my disappearing act.
Justin jumps on the bike. “Get on.”
Shaking my head I sigh, “Tell me you're joking.”
“I can tell you that, but it won't make it true.”
A bullet lands in the sand next to my feet and I quickly wince terrified. Life on the back of a shaky, possibly explosive, vehicle, or death by magical bullets? Damn it. Are my choices ever going to be favorable?
Hopping on the back, I wrap my arms tightly around his waist, bury my face against his black suit jacket, that's covered completely in sand, and squeal as another bullet hits the ground beside us. At that he revs the engine and speeds off.
Curious I look up at the long stretch of road ahead of us. It's not only filled with bumps, rocks, gravel, but sinking sand pits. As Justin maneuvers us recklessly around, I do my best not to focus on the sound of the engine, the death traps ahead, or the bullets desperately trying to find new homes in my sides. In the distance in front of us, the mountains of sand with no other landmarks in sight, seem to be multiplying.
“Hold your breath and close your eyes,” Justin instructs seconds before he swerves off road, the trail of dirt bikes chasing us increasing in numbers.
Doing as I'm told, like usual, I shut my eyes tightly. He thrusts us forward towards a swirling sand vortex between two mountains. How is this a smart choice? How is this a place we should be driving into? Or through!
Once we're on the other side, I start coughing profusely, sand stuck in my chest, collapsing my ability to breathe. Thankfully, I can see the edge of the ship in the horizon, with our friends posted on the top deck. Their weapons are even drawn prepared to cover us.
A bullet pops the back tire sending the bike sideways, flinging our bodies off at an angle that scrapes my entire chest. Ouch... talk about new meaning to the phrase road rash. Feeling sand clog my throat, I cough roughly again, the spasm filling my body with sharp pain. My hand clutches the rib I've bruised or broken. Please don't add broken rib to the lis
t of problems today.
Just a couple feet away from me Justin calls to me, “You OK?”
I wheeze, “Define OK.”
After a faint chuckle from Justin, I attempt to scramble to my feet, the swarms of bullets returning. Ya know, I really am tired of being shot at.
With his body hunched over, Justin grabs my hand and drags me behind him. “Stay low.”
While our team is doing an amazing job keeping the pirates from essentially killing us, the pirates in exchange are making it difficult for us to reach the ship. Like the quick thinker he is, Justin starts leading our bodies straight left away from our getaway vehicle.
“Where the hell are we going?” I scream as a gust of wind swirls around making it hard for me to see anything.
“Plan B,” the words are followed by a beautiful smile on his face.