4. Lost Boys #2
He quietly counted on his fingers. “Six. Seven if you count Belle.”
“Who’s Belle?”
“She’s the only girl in the group. I can’t very well call her a Lost Boy.”
“What are the others’ names?”
“In the Never Lands, our names are whatever we choose. You can be whoever you want to be here.”
He wove about the woods as if dribbling an invisible soccer ball. Every few seconds, he’d leap over a tree root or ollie off a trunk, careless enough to defy gravity. His energy seemed endless.
“Well, what do you call them?”
“First, they call me Pan—short for Pangbourne. Then there’s Tate, Nibbs, Bayne, Cass, and the twins, Thayer and Tristan.”
“They all live with you?”
“God, no! Although they rarely leave.” He frowned. “I don’t actually know if they have homes. They’re always just…around. Like homeless nomads.”
“You don’t know if your friends have homes? Didn’t you ever ask or try to visit them?”
He shrugged. “I guess I never took interest.” He doubled his pace. “But they’ll go nuts when they see you!”
The louder the music pounded in the jungle, the stranger this journey seemed. Peter was prancing from tree to tree like a squirrel on cocaine while she grew increasingly concerned about the people she was about to meet in nothing more than her pajamas.
This sort of uncertainty is exactly what she deserved after such an impetuous decision to run off with a stranger. How had she ever believed herself safe with him?
Something slithered through the underbrush and hissed from the shadows. She stilled. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“I don’t know. It sounded…slimy.”
“It was probably just a Never Snake.”
Her eyes widened. Did she even want to know what a Never Snake was?
“Or could be a Never Spider. They make a lot of noise when they're full grown.”
With that disturbing information, she rushed forward to walk next to him again. There was so much nature surrounding them the ground seemed to breathe, in and out, as if alive. “How much further?”
“We’re here.”
The pulse of beating drums thumped as laughter erupted from the other side of the trees. Water splashed, and male voices hooted like a fraternity.
She’d gladly trade her jungle surroundings for a frat house.
Peter cupped a hand by his mouth and crowed. The sound echoed back in what she presumed were the Lost Boys’ voices.
Leaves rustled, and a tiny female burst from the foliage. The woman had pixie blonde hair and perfectly toned flesh. She squealed and hurled herself at Peter’s chest, wrapping her legs about his hips.
“You’re back!” She wreathed her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply.
Eyes wide, Wendy cleared her throat.
The woman’s elven features narrowed on Wendy as she slid down Peter’s body to stand on the ground. She wore a bohemian-style sarong that showed off her hips. Her torso was bare, and her green crop-top barely covered her breasts.
Peter caught her arm. “Easy, Belle. She’s with me.”
The tiny woman took Wendy’s measure. Was this the sort of petite figure Peter was attracted to? Wendy generally liked her body, but this woman’s waistline was smaller than her thigh. As her gaze traveled upward, her insecurities doubled.
Belle curled her lip and jammed a fist into her side, returning her attention to Peter. “Who is she?”
“This is Wendy Bird—she’s still a fledgling.”
Wendy drew back at the nickname. “Excuse me?”
Peter laughed. “You know, because you hate to fly, and you’ve never really left the nest.” He waved a hand at the other woman. “Wendy Bird, meet Talia Bellfrey, but we just call her Belle.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Belle.” She held out her hand. “And you can just call me Wendy.”
Ignoring her outstretched hand, Belle looked up at Peter. “Why is she here?”
“Because I wanted her.”
“Oh, really?” Belle’s pixie features caught the moonlight as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Wanted her for what?”
“Whatever I feel like.”
Wendy tried to clarify. “Well, actually?—”
“No one asked you.” Belle marched angrily through the hedges, disappearing in the direction of the music.
Wendy turned to Peter, completely baffled by his friend’s reaction to her. “Are you two a thing?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she was all over you, and that wasn’t what anyone would call a warm welcome.”
“That’s her problem. Sometimes, people get possessive for no reason. It’s annoying.”
That might be true, but Wendy needed to understand what she was walking into. “Are you sleeping with her?”
“How could I be sleeping with her when I’m standing right here with you?”
He was purposely being obtuse. “You know what I mean, Peter! Have you had sex with her?”
“Oh. Yeah. We all have.”
“I beg your pardon.”
He waved away her scandalized expression. “Stop being such a prude. I told you, we don’t like rules in the Never Lands.”
Wendy’s stomach soured. It was a mistake coming here. She no longer found his duplicity cute and worried she might be at the mercy of a madman.
Her parents were likely home by now or about to return home. Would they visit her room? How long would it take for them to realize she was gone? Perhaps she could get home before they noticed she was missing.
“Come on, slowpoke.” Peter led her through a copse of trees where gnarled roots rose from the earth and coiled about.
Wendy kept her gaze on the ground so as not to trip.
Splashing and uproarious laughter erupted when Peter lifted a curtain of vines and waved her forward.
A mansion made almost entirely of glass walls presented a storefront display of a luxurious home.
Music blared, and men launched from balconies into an in-ground swimming pool below.
The moment Wendy stepped off the muddy forest floor onto the smooth stone, all movement ceased.
“Peter’s back!” They yodeled like maniacs and charged, but they didn’t run to Peter, they ran to her.
She screamed as they lifted her off her feet and hoisted her overhead, spiriting her away like a tribal sacrifice. “Peter, help!”
Her voice was lost amongst the shouting as they jostled her like a sack of potatoes. Stars bounced overhead, then the support gave way, and she went soaring through the air. All sound silenced as she broke the surface of the water and sank like a stone.
Cold water engulfed her screams as bubbles erupted from her mouth. Survival instincts kicked in as her toes slid along the floor of the pool. She propelled herself upward, her arms flapping wildly as her lungs burned. Her eyes bulged.
She was going to die.
Panicked, she whirled her arms but couldn’t reach the surface. Blurred faces stared down at her, not one wobbly figure coming to her aid. Her lungs convulsed, the pain forcing her to shut her eyes. Then, she was being yanked upward.
The moment they broke the surface, she gasped and choked, rolling to her side and hacking against the pavement. Hanks of wet hair clung to her face like seaweed as she spit out gulps of water from her convulsing lungs.
“Wendy, can you breathe?”
A heavy hand walloped her back, and water gushed from her mouth. She sputtered and coughed, swatting him away.
“Can’t you swim?”
A gasping, painful inhalation was all she could manage to answer. Never before had she felt so close to death.
Peter’s fury erupted when he turned on his friends. “What the hell were you thinking? This is how you greet a guest I bring you?”
“We didn’t know she couldn’t swim!”
“Why would you greet anyone like that?” Peter stormed with great anger. “Answer me!”
“Belle told us to. She said you brought a woman who thinks she’s a bird, and you wanted to see if she could really fly. We thought it was your idea, Peter.”
Peter’s eyes burned a deep emerald green as he turned his rage on the others. “Is that true? Did you cause this, Belle?”
The men stepped back, exposing the arrogant female as she lifted her chin in defiance. Wendy stopped sputtering to hear what she had to say, but no excuse or apology came.
Belle crossed her arms and glared at Peter. “So what if I did? Who is she to you anyway?”
Water dripped from Wendy’s drenched clothing as she stood, shivering. “What I am, or am not, to Peter makes no difference. I’m a human be?—”
“I wasn’t talking to you, bitch.”
Wendy drew back, never as enraged as she was at that moment. “Who the hell do you?—”
“Fuck off.”
“All right, that’s enough!” Peter shouted. “Belle, apologize.”
Wendy’s nightgown and robe clung to her body, exposing every curve as she panted and scowled at the little viper. It was clear that no apology was coming from the little terrorist.
The Lost Boys sidled behind Peter, showing their alliance. Wendy shivered and waited for Peter to do something. There had to be a consequence.
But when Belle refused to apologize, he only turned and yelled at the boys, “Use your heads! There are other ways to get a beautiful woman wet, you imbeciles!”
Her chattering jaw fell open. He was making a joke of the matter? She nearly died!
The men laughed as if paid to do so. Wendy understood then that Peter wasn’t their equal. He was their leader.
She hardened her brow and stepped forward, making it clear that this was a serious situation. Arms crossed her chest, she shivered and looked up at him like a wet rat. “Peter,” she used his name the way her mother sometimes called out her father, making a statement by only speaking one word.
He read the look in Wendy’s eyes and understood that jokes would not resolve this level of nastiness and all humor left his expression. The air chilled as he turned his authority back to Belle. “Talia Bellfrey, I hereby banish you from the Never Lands.”
A collective gasp hissed behind Peter.
“Peter,” Belle rasped in utter shock. “You don’t?—”
He held up a silencing hand. “This is my home, and Wendy is my guest. You betrayed me.”
Malice blazed in her cruel stare as she glared at Wendy, vengeance radiating from her tiny form. Belle sprung, lunging at Wendy.
Peter yanked her back and shook her roughly. “Still, you disobey me? Get out of here, and don’t come back!”
He flung her away with such disgust that Wendy almost felt sorry for the girl. “Peter, maybe we just need to cool?—”
“Leave!” Peter barked, ignoring Wendy’s voice. He glared at Belle. “I can’t even look at you!”
Her green eyes flooded with unshed tears, and then she turned and bolted into the woods. A mixture of regret and anger welled inside Wendy as she shivered and dripped onto the pavement.
Peter turned and shouted at the men, “I want you to prepare a room for Wendy. This will be your punishment. Choose the best room and fill it with every comfort you can find. It’s the least you can do after greeting her like barbarians.”
Wendy shivered, wishing someone would get her a towel.
When the Lost Boys only nodded, Peter shouted, “ Move!”
They scattered into the enormous glass home, and Peter snatched a towel from a lounge chair. Wendy’s teeth chattered as he wrapped it around her trembling shoulders and pulled her close.
“You’re freezing.” The heat of his chest was too warm to reject, so she nestled closer to him. He hooked a finger under her trembling chin and lifted her face. “I think you’re in shock. Fair warning, I’m not above taking advantage of your vulnerable state.”
Leading her to one of the lounge chairs, he pulled her onto his lap. Despite the tropic-like humidity and the press of his warm body, she couldn’t stop shivering.
“You’ll never get warm in sopping wet clothes. We should take these off.”
Perhaps she was in shock because she didn’t object when he peeled off her robe. Her nipples stabbed through the transparent silk of her nightgown, and Peter lifted a brow. “I can see every inch of you, Ms. Darling.”
She moved to cover her breasts, but he caught her wrist.
“Don’t.” Leaning forward, he closed his mouth over the turgid tip of her breast and bit gently through the wet fabric.
“Peter—”
“Let me.”
He had no authority over her, yet she obeyed. He pushed her arms down and stared at her body as if he owned her, pulling the thin strap off her shoulder and peeling the material away from her chest to expose her nipple fully.
“That’s better.”
He reached forward but stilled when the sliding door opened. Wendy jerked the towel over her chest.
“Room’s ready,” one of the men called.
Irritated by the disruption, Peter stood and held out a hand. “Come. Once we get to your room, we can get you out of that wet gown.”