She jerks, snapping out of her daze. “What?”
“Is my father here?” A warning tingle races up my spine as I take her in, something feeling off about this whole encounter. Suddenly, I wish I would have waited for James to get home, so he could have at least attempted to talk me out of coming at all.
This just doesn’t feel right.
“Mmmmm, nope.” She laughs. “He told me to wait for you, though.”
I tilt my head, my heartbeat whooshing through my ears, my eyes taking in my surroundings. “Okay.”
She steps toward me, stumbling before she regains her footing.
“Are you okay?” Is she drunk?
“I’m fine. Your father has a new business partner. Brand new, actually, and I was the tester to make sure the product was on point.” She taps her nose.
My eyes widen, stomach dropping. “You’re high?”
“Just a little bit of pixie.” She grins. “Pete doesn’t like to touch the stuff, but someone has to make sure he’s not being gypped.” Her eyes narrow. “And there’s no one your father trusts more than me.”
She throws her barb, and it hits the mark, but it doesn’t rip me open the way it once would have. It merely stings; a phantom ache for what could have been.
Not that I would ever agree to do drugs to benefit his business.
My eyes narrow. “You’re disgusting. How can you be okay with what he does?”
She huffs out a laugh. “That’s rich. Tell me, do you ask yourself the same thing as you let Hook split you with his cock?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I grit my teeth. “That’s none of your business.”
She stares at me, the grin dropping off her face. “Ugh, this really sucks. I was told not to hurt you.”
My hair stands on end, alarm racing through me at her words, and I back away slowly, not wanting to make any sudden moves. “Who told you that?”
“Everybody.” She glares, stepping toward me. “Wendy this, and Wendy that. ‘Don’t hurt her, Tina.’ ‘We need her, Tina.’ ‘She’s my daughter, Tina.’”
My back hits the wall, the table next to me shaking from the thump, anxiety swarming my insides as she continues to move closer, her eyes small slits. “Do you know how exhausting it is always coming in second place?”
I shake my head, putting my hands in front of me, my eyes glancing to my phone across the room. “I never asked to be put first.”
“Liar!” she screams. Her hand shoots out and slaps me across the face, my head swinging to the side, cheek stinging from the burn. I grit my teeth, desperately trying to keep my composure. Blinking slowly, I inhale a breath, and when I reopen my eyes, I realize how big of a mistake it was to close them at all.
Because Tina is right in front of me, and a blue glass vase is in her hand, high in the air. My arms reach up to try and stop her, but she’s fast, and it crashes into my head. I fall to the ground, pain searing through my skull as she brings it down again, and everything goes black.
44
James
My office is destroyed.
I stare at Curly, Starkey, and the twins as they watch me pace back and forth. They’re smart enough to know there’s nothing they can say that will calm the rage wreaking havoc on my insides. I called Curly in specifically because I know him and Moira are close.
Moira.
Unbelievable.
Turning, I point at Curly, my finger shaking. “Did you know?”
His nostrils flare, his fingers popping as he puts his fist in his other hand. “Hell no, Hook. I would never let that bitch get away with this.”
Nodding, I rest my palms on the edge of the desk, my grip so tight my knuckles leach of color. “Bring her to me.”
“I don’t know if—”
My arm sweeps across the desk, everything crashing to the floor, wires ripping from their sockets and pens rolling across the wood. “Bring her to me. Now.”
Curly nods, pulling out his phone and walking away. But he needn’t go anywhere, because as he opens the door, Moira stands on the other side. “Hi, boys.”
My head snaps up, untapped fury ripping through my muscles and bleeding from my bones. “Moira,” I purr. “How lovely of you to make an appearance.” I walk around the desk, my fingers gripping the handle of my knife so tight it bruises.
She makes her way inside, meeting me halfway, and smirks. I brush her hair off the side of her neck, the back of my hand resting against her cheek. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you think you would get away with it? Or do you simply wish for death?”
She looks me straight in the eye and smiles. “I still think I’m getting away with it. James.”
The back of my hand connects with her cheek in a sharp crack, her body flinging onto the floor. My nostrils flare as I step over to her, the heel of my shoe digging into her back. I lean into my body weight, reveling in the way she whimpers beneath me. My eyes snag on that disgusting crocodile tattoo gracing the back of her neck as a memory flashes in my mind.
“Sorry. New tattoo, it’s still kind of sore.”
I shake my head, chuckling at my own stupidity. Reaching down, I flip her over, pinning her down with my forearm on her chest. “Ah, such memories of you beneath me like the filthy whore you’ve always been.”
Her hands smack the floor, and she lets out a scratchy scream. “Fuck you, Hook. This is exactly why I dipped. You treat people like shit.”
“Spare me the theatrics. I treat you like shit because you’ve never been worth anything more.” I press my blade against her jugular. “Tell me what I want to know.”
“I’d rather die,” she sneers.
I grin. “Oh, rest assured you will.” I lean down, my lips at her ear. “You made a mistake choosing Peter.”
Her brows furrow and then she laughs, her head smacking against the floor until tears seep out the corner of her eyes. “Oh my god, you don’t even know, do you?”
My jaw clenches, my free hand reaching up and grasping her hair, lifting her head up and slamming it against the ground. She cries out as I push her face into the floor, my knife back at her throat. “Speak in riddles again and I’ll cut off your lips.”
She winces. “I don’t know Peter, okay? My man is Croc.” She pushes her neck into the edge of my blade. “And he’s coming for your head.”
I remove the blade, replacing it with my fingers, squeezing until I feel her trachea in the palm of my hand. She coughs, her eyes bulging at the pressure. “You don’t—don’t want to do that,” she wheezes.
“I promise you, I do.”
“He has your precious Wendy. And I know where she is.”
Before this moment, I always thought I had known fear. Had assumed that staring down the face of my uncle—hearing the ticks of his watch as he locked my bedroom door—was the epitome of the word.
I was wrong.
Because I have never known the icy grip of true terror as I do when Wendy’s name passes Moira’s lips.
The blunt end of my knife comes down on her head before she can speak again, knocking her out cold. I drop her body to the floor, rushing to find my phone and pull up the GPS tracker installed in her necklace, hoping beyond hope that she still has it on.
She does.
And she’s at Cannibal Cave.
But if it isn’t Peter, then why are they there?
Once I have her location, I’m out the door, Starkey and the twins coming with me, and Curly staying behind. He’s waiting on my call. Once I make sure Wendy is really there, he’s to put a bullet in Moira’s head.
I’d like to prolong her torture, but Wendy’s safety is paramount, and I don’t want to leave loose ends.
The drive to Cannibal’s Cave takes half the time it normally would, my foot like lead on the pedal, my mind spinning in a thousand different directions.
I am so stupid for believing that my enemies wouldn’t take her from me.
That Peter wouldn’t use his own daughter. I underestimated him once again.
The boys are relatively quiet in the car, Starkey sits in the passenger seat with a pistol in his lap, and the twins speak quietly to each other in the back. And my insides are raging, my mind praying to a god who’s already sentenced me to hell, bartering my soul as long as it keeps Wendy safe.
She has to be safe.
As soon as we hit the cave’s entrance, I throw the car in park. “Okay.” I blow out a breath, slipping on my gloves and checking the chamber of my gun. “Are you ready, boys?” I grin. “The time has come to pay the piper.” I don’t wait for them to follow, knowing they’ll have my back. I’m solely focused on finding Wendy, getting her to safety, and then killing every person who thought they could use her against me. Surprise flickers at the realization that revenge doesn’t even matter to me now, not if it’s at the cost of her life.