Or maybe he never existed at all.
He’s right. I am a stupid girl.
My tongue swipes out, getting caught on the rough, chapped edges of my lips, and I speak slowly, trepidation filling me from the inside out. This man—Hook—is a stranger. And something whispers in the back of my head to tread carefully. To do whatever it takes to just stay alive.
My father will come for me. He has to.
“James,” I speak slowly. “If my father… if he did something.”
His sharp laugh soars through the air, his grip tightening until my teeth cut into skin. “You showed up at my bar,” he hisses. “And then you distracted me when others needed me most.”
I attempt to shake my head, but his grasp is strong, his eyes wild as they stare into mine, before flicking to the chains at my side.
My insides are twisted in tight coils, nerve endings frazzled and frayed, and I watch this stranger as he rages at me with the fire of a thousand suns. He looks like he wants to kill me.
My fingers press into the ground at my sides, my heart beating in my throat.
Leaning his head to the side, his eyes close in a slow blink. And when they open, the fire has been doused.
He’s a blank slate. His gaze just two vacant holes, rimmed in blue.
The grip on my jaw loosens, his gloved fingers caressing my skin like a lover, before his focus flicks to the bindings on the wall.
I inhale, holding it in my lungs, afraid to even breathe, worried that it might set him off again.
He stands, pulling something out of his pocket.
My body cowers, chest squeezing as he nears. He hovers above me, his spicy scent invading my nostrils, and making me hate myself for the way my heart skips at the smell. A jostling sensation on my wrist, and then a click, followed by pinpricks of pain lancing down my arm as blood flows freely back into my hand.
He’s unlocking my chains.
“I find it’s rather erotic having you cuffed to my walls,” he says as he moves to the other side. “But you’re no use to me damaged.”
I pull my arms to my chest, my fingers rubbing against the raw skin of my wrist.
“At least not at the moment.”
His face comes within inches of mine, my stomach compressing at the sudden movement. “If you act out, I will retaliate.”
Heartbreak sits heavy in my gut, rising up and coating my throat like bile. “What could you possibly do that you haven’t already done?”
His eyes dance over my face, almost as if he’s memorizing the lines. The sudden switch of his demeanor makes unease weave through my every cell. He leans in, pressing his lips to mine. My body freezes in place, eyes widening.
His thumb caresses my cheek. “You will eat. You will drink the water we provide.” His fingers reach around to the nape of my neck, squeezing slightly. “And you will not do anything reckless, or I will chain you to the ceiling and rain your blood onto the floor.”
Betrayal lodges deeper with each word he says until it fills up every pore and marinates in my blood. “I hate you,” I whisper.
He smirks before he forcefully tosses my head away, my hands catching my body as I tumble sideways, my elbows cracking as they hit the ground.
Standing up, he runs his gloved palms down the front of his suit. “Do not make the mistake of thinking I’m someone you can disrespect.”
Nausea sloshes through my gut.
I watch from my spot on the floor as he moves to the end table, collecting the stack of pixie dust and heading toward the door. He pauses at the threshold, turning to look at me. “Do try to behave, darling. I’d hate to have to punish you.”
And then he turns, and once again, I’m all alone.
27
James
It’s been three days since I took Wendy from her home and stashed her in the basement of the JR. In that time, I’ve felt more emotion than the previous fifteen years combined. My nights are restless in a way they’ve never been before. Dreams of Ru rising from the grave and telling me how I’ve failed him keep me wide awake and frazzled.
Funny how he once stopped my nightmares, only to become them in the end. Life is always full circle, I suppose.
That combined with the continual disappearance of our crates, and my insides are wound tight, a live wire waiting to be tripped.
And Wendy… Wendy.
Well, it’s a shame it’s gotten to this point, but there’s nothing to be done for it now. I’ll still use her for the same purpose, only in the end, instead of allowing her to go free, I’ll make her watch as I drain the life from her father’s eyes.
And then I’ll do the same to her.
There’s a sharp ache in my chest at the thought, but I take another sip of brandy and let the burn of liquor numb the pain. The ice clinks in my glass as I set it down, and settle into my chair, watching Wendy on the cameras and twirling an invitation to tonight’s charity gala.
She’s cross-legged in the middle of the room, her eyes closed and hands on her legs, almost as if she’s in deep meditation.
Starkey sits across from me, and I lean forward, placing my elbows on the desk.
“Tell me again,” I say slowly. “Who went with Ru to his meeting.”
Starkey’s jaw is set, his light brown hair ruffling against his fingers as he combs through the strands. “Nobody.”
“Nobody,” I repeat.
He lifts a shoulder. “Didn’t even tell anyone he was going.”
Irritation snaps in my veins, paper crumpling under my fingers. “You’re sure?”
Starkey’s leg bounces against the floor, and my eyes dip down, tracking the movement. Annoyance flows through me like an untapped faucet, and I bite my cheek so hard copper floods my mouth.
“Ye—yeah, boss, I’m sure.”
A pounding forms between my eyes and I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Get out of my sight.”
“But we still have to—”
I shoot from my chair, picking up my knife and flinging it toward him, lodging it into the far wall. “I said leave.” My knuckles ache as they press into the wood of my desk, and I look down, breathing deeply to keep my temper at bay. “Before my aim improves.”
He leaves within seconds, the soft click of the door making my shoulders drop.
The heartbeat in my ears combined with the grinding of my teeth is a symphony of sound, accompanying the tornado of white-hot frustration whipping through my insides, so potent I can’t drown it out.
It’s been almost a week since Ru’s murder, and still I’m no closer to answers.
Shipments are going missing, Peter Michaels is doing everything to control my streets, and now I’m supposed to step into Ru’s shoes and take over officially as the boss.
A title I’ve never been interested in having.
Add on top of that the infuriating woman in my basement, and I feel like a blank jigsaw puzzle with a thousand scattered pieces.
Someone knocks on the office door and I heave a breath. “Come in.”
Curly walks through, his chin dipping in acknowledgment.
“Any new developments?” I ask.
He shakes his head, walking over to where Wendy sits in silence on the screen. “Nope. She pretty much just does that all the time.”
Glancing down at the invitation in my palm, an idea forms in my mind. After all, I know Peter will be there, he’s their guest of honor, and it’s the first time he’ll be in Massachusetts since the night of Ru’s death.