I smile. “I used to have breakdowns whenever he’d leave, worried he’d fly away and never come home. One night, when he was saying goodbye, something fell through my open window, and when I woke up in the morning, he had placed it on my end table with a note, promising he’d return.” I laugh, shaking my head. “It was just a stupid acorn, but… I don’t know.” I shrug, reaching up to wipe away a stray tear. “I was a dumb kid. Put sentimentality on things that probably didn’t deserve it. But from that night on, whenever he’d leave, he’d bring me another one and set it on my table, promising he’d come back.”
Agony sears through my broken heart and down into the deepest parts of my soul. “And I collected those acorns like kisses.”
“Why are you telling me this?” he asks.
I turn to face him, resting my wet cheek on the back of my hand, my head molding to the pillow. “I don’t know. To show you that he wasn’t always so bad? That once upon a time, he really did care.” A sob breaks free, and my hand flies to my mouth, trying to stuff it back down.
Hook turns to me then, his hand reaching out and cupping my face, his thumb swiping away the tears as they fall. “It’s impossible not to care for you, Wendy. If it was, you’d already be dead.”
A laugh bubbles in my chest at the absurdity of this entire thing—at the way the man holding me hostage is consoling me over my broken heart. At the way he can say something so vile and make it sound so sweet.
“Is that supposed to be romantic?” I wheeze out between giggles.
A small smile graces his face. “It’s supposed to be the truth.”
The laughter dies down, and we’re stuck staring at each other, twisted feelings spiraling through me and branding every part of my fucked-up heart. And I know, I know I’m supposed to hate him.
But in this moment, I don’t.
“Anyway.” I sigh, breaking eye contact, wanting to ease the fire that’s building in my veins. “The acorns disappeared when my mom died.” I sniff. “And so did my dad, I guess.”
He doesn’t say anything else and neither do I. Eventually, he rises, going to the dresser on the far side of the room and passing me a pair of boxers and a plain black shirt. Clothes I couldn’t imagine him in, even if I tried. And I take them without a fight, slipping them on and crawling back into his bed, knowing I don’t have any other choice.
“Hook,” I whisper through the dark.
“Wendy.”
“I don’t want to die.”
He sighs. “Go to sleep, darling. Your soul is safe tonight.”
“Okay.”
I reach up, my fingers playing with the diamond choker that I was too afraid to remove. He told me to keep it on, and I don’t know if that extends to when we’re here in his home, but I don’t want to ruin the calm that we’ve created. I’ve been on the end of his ire before, and I have absolutely no desire to be there again.
“Hook,” I say again.
The room stays silent.
My stomach feels like lead, but I know if I don’t get the words out now, I may not get another chance. “I watch you, you know? Wh-when you think no one can see?” My fingers move, tangling together underneath the covers. “And if my father has something to do with what makes you look so sad...” I reach out blindly, the side of my hand bumping into his. “I see you. I just wanted you to know that.”
He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t move my hand either. And that’s how we stay until I fall asleep.
34
James
I lie in bed watching the even rise and fall of Wendy’s chest, admiring the way she looks so peaceful even as she whimpers in her dreams.
There will be no sleep for me tonight.
All of my previous plans when it comes to Peter have been tossed out of the window, rage coursing through my veins, molding into my cells and cementing into my heart.
The JR is gone.
Burned to a crisp, nothing but rubble and dust. And while everyone made it out safely, nothing else has been recovered.
Not that I keep anything of importance there. When you work outside the boundaries of the law, you learn quickly that keeping things where people expect them to be never works in your favor.
Still, the JR was our biggest front to clean the money, and in the end, it had more of a personal meaning. It was where I grew up, where I learned how to be Hook, instead of just a monster bred inside a cage. Sure, there are other businesses we own, a few strip clubs on the edges of the city, and a nightclub in the center of town, but the JR was home.
Add to that fact, I’m not sure what to do now with Wendy. I overestimated her and her father’s relationship, stupidly assuming that the papers were telling the truth as they waxed poetic about their bond. But no man who has any sense of love in his heart would allow his daughter to stand in front of a killer and beg them for his life.
Pathetic.
I no longer believe she betrayed me. Yet, for some reason, I don’t want to let her go.
But if Peter Michaels thinks he can come into my town, steal my drugs, burn my businesses, and kill my people without facing my wrath, he’s in for a nasty surprise.
I slip from the bed, leaving the room and locking the door behind me as I walk into the kitchen, stopping short when I see Smee sitting at the island, a cup of tea in his hand.
“I thought you said you were leaving for the night.”
Smee turns, the red beanie on his head slipping back as he smiles. “I got done with things earlier than I thought. Do you need something?” He lifts his mug. “Cup of tea?”
I shake my head. “No, I have business to attend to. Listen, Wendy is here. And she is not to leave this boat. Understood?”
Smee’s eyes glance down the hall before looking back at me. “Everything okay, boss man?”
I nod. “If she causes problems, call me immediately. You are not to touch her under any circumstances.”
He takes another sip from his cup. “Understood.”
“Good man.” I grin.
I’m almost out of the room when I hear it.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
My head grows dizzy, heart pumping so fast my veins feel like they’ll burst. I slowly spin on my heels, my eyes zoned in on where Smee is playing with something on the kitchen counter.
“Smee,” I say slowly, my hands trembling against my sides. “What is that noise?”
Smee glances up, the side of his mouth lifting. “Hmm?”
I take a jerky step forward, the knot in my stomach twisting so violently it’s ripping me in half, and when I reach the island, I inhale deeply, trying to maintain control.
“Oh, this?” He holds up an old-looking watch connected to a gold chain that dangles to the counter. “I found it at a pawnshop and just had to get it.” He smooths his thumb over the face. “I know it’s a little loud, but...”
My vision blurs from how difficult it is to keep from smashing every bone in his hand just to stop that incessant noise.
“Are you okay, boss?”
“Please,” I grind out through my teeth. “Get that thing out of my home.”
“I—”
My hand swipes out, smashing into his mug, the contents sloshing on the counter, the porcelain shattering against the wood floor. “I said get. It. Out.”
His eyes widen, his body jerking back. “Okay.” He races to the deck, running to the side, and throwing it out to sea.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the beautiful silence, taking deep breaths as the red haze recedes, allowing me to regain control.
Smee walks back in, his eyes darting from me to the shattered contents on the floor.
I crack my neck, exhaling a heavy sigh. “Do not ever bring a clock on this yacht again. Do you understand?”
He swallows and nods.
I turn, walking out the door and shaking off the remnants of my rage, feeling the control slot back in place one by one.
The first thing I do is call an emergency meeting with the boys at The Lagoon—the strip club on the outskirts of town. I don’t make much of an appearance there, but I need a temporary space, and this is the one with the best office.
The next thing I do is call Moira and tell her to meet me here. I should have talked to her immediately or had one of the boys keep her company until I could get away, but I was too wrapped up in Wendy and my conflicting emotions to think clearly. An oversight, to be sure.
But now that I know she’s locked in my bedroom, I can breathe easier, allowing my focus to shift.
Thirty minutes after the boys have their marching orders, Moira saunters into the office, her eyes gleaming and her lips painted that garish red.
“Hook,” she purrs. “It’s been a while.”
“I’ve been busy.”
She starts to walk around the desk, but I put a hand up to stop her. “You’re not here for that.”
Her lips turn down, brows furrowing. “Oh.”
“Tell me what happened last night.” I steeple my fingers in front of my lips.
She sighs, running a hand through her hair as she sits in the chair across the desk. “I already told Starkey everything I knew, Hook.”
I smile, my patience running thin. “Tell it again.”
“I don’t know, okay?” she bursts out, her arms shooting to the sides. “Everything was fine, and then it was like… boom!” She claps her hands together. “Explosion or something. To be honest, I was so worried about making sure everyone got out, I didn’t think much of whatever else was going on.”
My fingers scratch against my stubble. “Okay.”
She smiles. “Okay.”