I step out of the shadows and into the light, my hands in my pockets.
“Trust is a funny word, isn’t it?” I ask.
Ru turns to me, narrowing his eyes. I grin at him and wink.
Peter gazes at me for long moments, as if he’s soaking in every single feature. And then, his cheeks pale the slightest bit.
Excellent.
“After all,” I continue. “We trusted that when someone of your caliber comes into our territory and requests a meeting, he would do us the courtesy of actually showing up.” I step forward until I’m shoulder to shoulder with Ru, my hand white-knuckling my knife, trying to filter all of my rage into my grip so it doesn’t show on my face.
I’ve waited on this for fifteen years, and I’m going to see my plan through, no matter how much my blood is scratching at my insides, screaming to end him here and now.
Peter licks his lips. “And you are?”
I chuckle, glancing at the ground before meeting his stare. “You can call me Hook.”
“Ah, yes. Hook.” Peter chuckles. “Your reputation precedes you.” He tilts his head. “Didn’t know you were British though.”
I smirk, resting against the front of our car.
Peter’s men come closer, but he shakes his head. “Relax, everyone. We’re all just businessmen having a conversation.” His eyes sear into mine. “Isn’t that right?”
“I suggest you get to your point,” Ru snaps. “You’ve already wasted enough of our time, and I’m liable to get impatient quick.”
Peter’s brows lift to his hairline. “Do you know who I am?”
Ru cocks his head. “Are you suggesting I’m stupid? You come into my territory, and think because your name is Peter Michaels that you can ask us to jump and we’ll say how high, then thank you for the favor?” He shakes his head. “That isn’t how it works here. You want to run for me with your planes and your ships, we can talk. I’m more than willing to strike up an amicable agreement. But don’t think for one second that because you’re a golden boy in the eyes of the world, that I’ll give a damn here in my home.” He points to his chest. “These are my streets. And everyone in them pays their dues. You get me?”
My insides splinter at Ru’s words, shock spearing my stomach like an arrow. He’s considering working with him. After we agreed he’d say no.
Peter’s silent for long moments, before he rubs his chin and nods. “I’ll run your pixie and your weapons, but I want fifty percent.”
My teeth grind, and Ru huffs a laugh. “Ten.”
Peter smiles. “Forty.”
Ru’s lips thin, his eyes growing dark. “I think you got me confused, huh? I don’t need you.”
“That may be true.” Peter nods. “But you’d be a fool to turn me away. You may have runners, but none with my expertise and none with a globally known carrier service that can enter any country at any time.” He walks closer to Ru, and my spine straightens. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll pack your pixie and fly it to places you’ve only seen in your dreams.”
A ring interrupts the moment, and Peter pulls his phone from his pocket, glancing at the screen. Sighing, his body slumps. “Unfortunately, gentlemen, I have to cut this meeting short.” He looks up, his eyes crinkling in the corners with his smile. “I promised my daughter I’d be home for dinner.”
My stomach somersaults at the mention of Wendy. I wonder how he would feel knowing that his daughter’s cum was covering my fingers just the night before. That I held her life in my hands while she begged me to edge her on the brink of death.
Peter walks forward, putting his hand out for Ru to shake. “We’ll finalize plans sometime this next week. Make the right decision, yeah?”
And then he comes to me. His charming mask slips slightly as he cranes his neck to look me in the eyes. Bile burns the back of my throat as I place my palm in his.
His gaze is cold. Calculating. “Maybe one day you’ll tell me your name?”
Anticipation slams into me like a battering ram, and a smile stretches across my face. “I look forward to it.”
17
Wendy
My father actually came home. Two hours later than he said he’d be, and with a mystery woman attached to his side, but I’ll overlook the details because having him here outweighs any of the negatives.
Even though he missed dinner.
“So, what is it you do for my dad again?” I ask Tina, following them into the unused home office.
She grins, grasping a folder under her arm as she makes herself comfortable on the dark leather couch. She’s beautiful in a spritely sort of way. Slim and petite, with a button nose and wispy bangs. But I can’t help the envy that swirls deep in my gut, knowing she gets untapped access to my father’s attention while the rest of us pray for a drop.
“I’m his right-hand woman. Your father would be lost without me.” She turns to him, smiling, and he winks back.
Gag me. Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I nod. “Oh.”
“She’s my assistant,” Dad chimes in.
“Is she the voice I always hear right before you rush me off our calls?” I lift my brows.
Lines form between his eyes, his lips turning down, and the little girl in me, still desperate for his approval, cowers at the stare. “I’m sorry, that was rude,” I rush out. “I just… it’s hard with you gone so much. Especially in this new place.”
He sighs, glancing at Tina and then back at me. “Leave, Tina.”
Her eyes widen, and she shifts in her seat. “Peter, we need to—”
“I need to speak with my daughter. Alone. Leave.”
She sucks in a breath and nods, setting down the folder that’s on her lap and slowly making her way out of the office door, her eyes narrowing as they land on me.
Bitch.
I watch her close the door behind her before spinning to face my father.
“So…” He smiles, walking to the front of his desk and leaning against it. “What’s new with you, little shadow?”
The term of endearment strikes out like a lasso, wrapping around my middle and tugging, nostalgia clawing at my insides. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him. I’m seeing someone. You’d hate him.
But I don’t want to wade those waters yet, still want to keep James to myself before I introduce him to family.
I force a smile on my face, an ache settling heavy in my chest. “Just working at the coffee shop and settling into the new place. Did you look around yet?”
His face softens, his eyes warming the way they used to, and with that simple look, my insides turn to mush, all my anger and resentment being drowned by the hope that flows through me.
“Not yet, but you’ve done a nice job setting the place up,” he says.
I wave him off. “That was easy. Jon and I have just been trying to acclimate to the weather, to be honest. It’s so different than Florida.” Pausing, my fingers twist together, palms growing clammy because this is a nice moment, and the last thing I want to do is ruin it with questions and nagging. Still, the words flow from my mouth before I can stop them. “When are you gonna tell him?”