The Family Business

9

     The only things that stopped me from screaming for help were the pressure of the pirate's hand on my arm and the fact that no one else was out here to hear me. I was led down the dock a little ways before another large ship came into view through the morning fog. We walked up to the deck of this ship, my arm still held tight in the pirate's grip.
     "Take those two down to the cells," he ordered, and I watched as Will and Sam were taken below deck. I suddenly felt very alone. The pirate yanked me toward a door and knocked.
     "Come in," said a voice on the other side. He opened the door and shoved me inside, closing the door behind us. I looked around. It was a fair sized room, decorated with portraits of what appeared to be several old pirates. Some sported eye patches, others peg legs, and most of them had multiple piercings. There was a desk toward the back of the room, behind which sat a man. Judging from the office, he was the Captain of this ship. His black hair was windswept and messy, and his face was unshaven. His eyes were dark and a bit mysterious. Like Jefferson, he had a single earring dangling from his right ear. Must be a captain thing, I thought to myself. He was leaning back in his chair, his booted feet on his desk. His right hand, sporting a large ring on his index finger, rested on his chest, and his left hand was hanging at his side, out of view. There was another chair in front of his desk; a big, cushy armchair that looked quite comfortable.
     "Is that any way to treat a captive?" The Captain said. "Untie the poor girl." He had a low, calm voice that somehow had the effect of sending peace throughout my body. My head stopped spinning and my heart stopped pounding.
     "Yes, Captain," the pirate said as he released my arm from his grasp. He then untied my wrists and stood, awaiting further orders. I rubbed my wrists and watched the Captain. He looked back at me.
     "Leave us," he said. The other pirate turned and left the room, shutting the door loudly behind him. The Captain gestured toward the armchair in front of the desk. I walked over it and swung over the armrest, sitting sideways in the chair so that my legs dangled over the side. He smirked. Then he brought his left hand out from under the table and I held in a gasp. In true pirate fasion, his hand had been replaced by a gleaming silver hook. He used this hook to stab a grape from the fruit bowl sitting on the desk in front of him. He examined the grape for a few seconds before biting it off his hook. I wrenched my gaze off of the hook, mentally reminding myself to breathe, and instead looked at his face. On closer examination, his eyes were not as dark as they had seemed, but were in fact a deep, brilliant blue. They were outlined,  however, in black eye makeup, making them appear darker and more ominous. He looked at me and I stared back defiantly.
     "Do you know why you're here?" He asked.
     "No," I replied.
     "Hmm," he said. "Let's start off simple, then. Let's play a game."
     "What sort of a game?" I asked. My heart started beating faster, but I wasn't about to let him know I was scared.
     "It's called Questions," he answered. "It's easy, really. I ask a question, you answer the question, then I answer the same question. Then it's your turn to ask a question. Are you willing to play?"
     "Do I have a choice?" I asked.
     He chuckled a little. "I'll start then. What is your name?"
     "You already know the answer to that," I said.
     "Tut tut. That's not how you play the game, love," he said darkly, narrowing his eyes.
     "Allanah Valero," I answered.
     "Good," he replied.
     "Now you have to tell me your name," I reminded him. He scoffed.
     "I know the rules," He said. "My name is Captain Blake Archer."
     "Nah," I replied, my eyes flicking once more to the hook that replaced his left hand. "I think I'll call you Captain Hook."
     "You can call me whatever you like," he said. "It's your turn."
     "Why are you a pirate?" I asked, unable to think of another question we could both answer.
     "Family business," he answered, inspecting his hook.
     "Same here," I said. "My brother, Jefferson, is a pirate."
     "Yes, I know him," he said with a look of extreme dislike.
     "You don't like him?"
     "It's my turn," he said, changing the subject. "Hmm. How old are you?"
     "Seventeen," I answered. I had no idea why he would want to know my age. He was obviously enjoying this game far more than I was.
     "I'm eighteen," he replied. I was surprised. He looked to be at least twenty one.
     "Why am I here?" I asked.
     "That's not a question we can both answer," he said.
     "But it's the only question I want you to answer," I replied. I was sick of playing his stupid game. He sighed.
     "I was hired to retrieve something from your brother. I figured you could help me find it." I looked down, wondering what Jefferson had that this pirate needed so badly that he would kidnap an innocent girl to get it. That's when I saw it.