I point to her. “Stay right there and don’t speak.”
Her forehead scrunches, but she does as I say. And at least at first, she’s quiet, allowing me to click through business expenses of The Lagoon. I don’t necessarily need to, but I do need to pass the time, and while in the past I may have been interested in using Moira’s body to do so, I find that the idea repulses me now.
She sighs loudly, smacking her hands on her thighs. “Are we gonna do anything or not, Hook? This is boring.”
My eyes snap to hers. “I said don’t speak.”
She stands up and saunters over. “I could think of something else I could do.”
I watch her move toward me, irritation flaring in my chest. She drops to her knees, her red fingernails sliding up my thighs until she palms my cock, wrapping her fingers around the length through the fabric. I bat her hand away and grip her chin, pulling harshly until her face is level with mine. “Did I tell you to touch me?”
She attempts to shake her head.
The back of my free hand runs down the side of her cheek. “Don’t you wish to please me?”
She nods. “Yes.”
I lean in, my nose brushing hers. “Then sit down and stay quiet. Your mouth is of no use to me anymore.”
Her eyes shutter as I drop her face, her body stumbling back as she rubs at her jaw and walks to the chair, crossing her arms and staring at the ground.
Over the course of the next hour, we sit in silence. I occasionally call for random employees to come to the back, for no other reason than to make sure they see me here, with Moira, at this exact moment.
But this time, when someone knocks, it’s who I’ve been waiting on.
“Come in,” I say, relief bleeding through my chest as the twins appear. “It’s done?”
They nod, glancing to Moira.
I lean back in the chair, satisfaction dancing through my insides.
See, what Peter doesn’t understand is that while he has the money and the social standing, I have the loyalty. And loyalty is bred from respect. You take care of people, and they’ll take care of you. And if there’s one thing Ru and I have done in this town, it’s take care of our people.
Bloomsburg, Massachusetts, isn’t like anywhere else in the world, and its inhabitants don’t take too kindly to new blood coming in and their town going up in flames.
As it happens, the security guard at the new NevAirLand airstrip is a personal friend. His child had a terrible bout with cancer a few years back, and Ru paid for her chemotherapy, and every doctor’s visit since.
He’ll have to disappear, of course, after looping the security feed and allowing my boys inside to light every single plane on fire. But people are willing to do anything for those they love, and he knows his wife and children will be taken care of—protected by The Lost Boys until their last breath.
True love sometimes requires sacrifice.
Something Peter clearly knows nothing about.
I look to Moira, a grin spreading across my face. “You may leave now.”
She stands, her chin red from where I gripped it, and turns to leave without a word.
“Moira,” I say. She pauses at the door. “Feel free to tell people I gave you a nice ride today. Wouldn’t want to sully your reputation, after all.”
She scoffs, slamming the door behind her, and I grin, jumping to my feet, the sudden urge to head back to my boat making me giddy.
Right as I reach my car, my phone vibrates in my pocket, a single text on the screen.
Smee: Your girl is gone.
35
Wendy
Waking up, I stretch, my body popping from the deepest sleep I’ve had in a long time—even before I was thrown in the basement of the JR. I yawn, rubbing my eyes and gaining my bearings, and as I glance around, half of me expecting to see Hook sleeping peacefully by my side.
He isn’t, of course.
I’m all alone. I sit up in the bed, wondering what I’m supposed to do. I make my way to use the restroom, splashing water on my face, and using the toothbrush that was laid out for me yesterday before the gala.
It’s odd, waking up in luxury, and using the facilities here as if they’re mine. It confuses me; tilts my insides off axis, making it difficult for my brain to remember that I’m not actually free to do anything.
Even if my chains are now invisible, they’re still there.
My gaze snags on the choker.
Well, almost invisible.
I walk back into Hook’s room, my eyes going to the bedroom door, expecting it to be locked the way it was last night. But when I walk over, grabbing the handle and tugging, it opens right up.
The yacht is completely silent and trepidation fills me, making my nerves jump beneath my skin as I make my way down the hallway, padding into the kitchen.
When I get there, I stop short, seeing Smee standing next to the sink.
My hand goes to my chest. “Oh my gosh, hi.”
He smiles. “Hi, Miss Wendy. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No, I should have known someone would be here.” I wave him off, looking around. “Where’s Hook?”
His brow lifts. “You mean James?”
I tilt my head. It’s the first time I’ve heard anyone else call him that, and it makes me wonder just how close him and Smee are. He told me once that he doesn’t pry into Smee’s life, but I can’t imagine he lets just anyone call him by his given name.
And if they’re close, then that means Smee is just as bad as the rest of them.
I wait for the red-hot anger to spin through me, wanting to destroy everyone and everything responsible for my current situation, but it never comes. Instead, a resolute acceptance settles in my gut. A sick feeling follows quickly after, making me realize just how fast I’ve adjusted to this new reality.
“He’s busy running errands. Told me to make you feel at home.” He smiles. “Coffee?”
I watch him closely, unsure if I should take a drink from someone I don’t know. After all, the owner of this boat drugged me, so I wouldn’t put anything past anyone. This is their world, and I’m here, just trying to wade in their waters. I don’t really know what rule book criminals go by.
Although, technically, I guess Smee isn’t a criminal. He only works for one.
Shaking my head, I force a smile. “Do you think it would be okay if I go sit outside?”
He watches me closely for a minute, his eyes shifting, almost as if he’s debating on how to answer. I hold my breath, hoping he’ll say yes. I’m desperate to get some fresh air, to remind myself that I’m not still stuck in a dark, abandoned room with only my thoughts for company.
“Please, I promise I won’t go anywhere. I just…” My fingers tangle together on the countertop. “I want to soak up some sun.”
He nods. “Go ahead, Miss Wendy.”
A smile breaks across my face and I jump from the table, racing out of the side door and onto the sundeck.
I lie on one of the loungers, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get comfortable, a jittery energy making my legs restless. I glance around, not seeing Smee anywhere. I see the edge of the dock a few steps away, and the idea of being able to walk around, maybe put my feet in the water, makes my muscles twitch with need.
I head back to the door, about to go inside and ask Smee if it’s okay, but stop myself. What the hell am I doing? It’s not like I’m leaving.
Anyone would be able to see me from the boat if they’re standing on the sundeck and looking. I pull my hand back from the doorknob, and with my heart in my throat, I walk toward the exit, stepping off the yacht and onto solid ground.
Part of me expected that once I stepped off the boat, I’d feel the urge to run. But surprisingly, it doesn’t come. And as I make my way to the edge of the dock, the rays sinking into my skin, it hits me that maybe I’m not desperate to leave because if I do, I’m not sure what I’ll be going back to.
I can’t imagine going to the mansion and living with my dad. Not after knowing the things I do. Not after hurting the way I am.
I’m sure I’ve lost my job at The Vanilla Bean. Not showing up to shifts is a sure way to get fired, and it’s been days.
Angie is either worried sick or has written me off as a lost cause. We weren’t be-all and end-all besties, and as much as we got along, she’d only known me for a couple of months.
Jon will still be gone.
And I’ll just be alone. With no job, no prospects, and no family.
My heart clenches in my chest.
I’m not sure how long I sit here, my feet dangling above the water, but I’m snapped out of my self-reflection when footsteps sound from behind me. I turn, seeing Hook stalking down the wooden walkway, his mouth twisted and eyes narrowed.
He looks extremely unhappy.
My stomach curls in on itself.
I open my mouth to say hi, but before I get the chance, his hand is wrapping around my arm and ripping me up, his grip bruising. I stumble as I stand, grasping onto his suit to keep steady.