Hooked: A Dark, Contemporary Romance (Never After #1)(50)

It was during one of these introspective moments that I realized some of my pain isn’t new, it’s just fresh scratches on old scars. James—no, not James—Hook, is another person in the line of people who think they can tell me what to do, who cut me down with words, tell me to sit and stay, expecting me to bite my tongue and smile. And it’s true, it’s what I’ve been doing my whole life. Never standing up for myself, swallowing down the insults from “friends” and the belittling moments from my father as if it were my cross to bear.

But I’m tired of being told to heel.

The car turns into the marina, and my stomach twists as I remember the last time I was here. It was only days ago, yet somehow, it feels like I was an entirely different person, one who still viewed the world and all the people in it as inherently good.

But the rose-colored glasses were stripped off my face in a millisecond, leaving nothing but shades of gray behind.

Curly parks the car and moves to my side in a flash, opening the door and lifting me by the arm before he unlocks my cuffs. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

As if I’d be dumb enough to put my brother in danger.

I follow behind him, down the docks and to the ostentatious Tiger Lily at the end of the marina, watching as Smee mops the sundeck, and three white birds fly overhead.

The sun is shining, and the water is sparkling and crystal blue.

Everything is normal. Beautiful, even. Like my entire world hasn’t been flipped, twisted, and dropped upside down. Like I wasn’t seduced, drugged, kidnapped, and held in a stone basement. Despair creeps through me as I realize that I really am at the mercy of Hook’s whims.

He called himself my master.

And at least until I formulate a plan that keeps my family safe, he’s right.

“Move it, sunshine. Let’s go.” Curly’s hand pushes the back of my shoulder, and even though my legs feel like lead, somehow, I force them to move, stepping onto the boat. He doesn’t follow, just stands on the sidewalk, his arms crossed, and his eyes narrowed, as if he’s expecting me to do something crazy, like jump off the side and try to get away.

Maybe I should.

But I can’t swim, and I’m not stupid enough to think that I’d be successful.

Smee waves, and my eyes take him in, his boyish face and his bright red beanie making him look innocent as a lamb. My lips purse. I’m not sure how much he knows, but I’m done with putting my trust in people who haven’t earned it. My stomach sloshes with nerves, hands shaking as I reach out and open the door, stepping into the living room and glancing around.

Empty.

Moving my way slowly throughout the cabin, I stop in front of the kitchen island, steps away from where the knives are sitting pretty, right next to the wood cutting board. My mind whirls a hundred miles a minute. The urge to grab one is strong, but I need to be smart, and the thought of what Hook will do if he finds me with a weapon makes my heart drop to the floor, a chill racing through my veins. I frown at the knives as gruesome images of how he’d kill me play through my mind.

“I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The voice makes my stomach jump, and I spin around, coming face-to-face with a blue-eyed devil. “Hook.”

He inclines his head. “You can still call me James, if you wish.”

My jaw tightens and I cross my arms. “I don’t wish.”

He nods. “Very well. This way.”

His hand comes to rest on my back and it sends a shiver coasting through me, resentment coiling at the base of my spine for the way my body reacts to his touch. He moves us down the hallway and holds open the door to his room, allowing me to enter first before following behind. I lay eyes on his king bed with silk sheets and a fluffy burgundy comforter, the aches from sleeping on a cold, stone floor flaring to life, making my bones weep.

“There are fresh towels in the washroom, and I’ve had a dress delivered.”

My lips turn down, glancing at him from my peripheral. “How do you know my size?”

He smirks. “I have a very hands-on memory.”

My cheeks heat, disgust curling inside me. He took my virginity. I let him basically strangle me half to death, and I trusted him to keep me safe.

Pathetic, Wendy.

“What do you want from me?” I ask. “What did I do to deserve this? I don’t—” The words catch on the swelling in my throat, my hand coming up to cover my mouth.

His eyes flatten as he stalks toward me. I jerk on instinct, the back of my legs hitting the edge of his bed, making me stumble and bounce off the mattress. I scramble up, leaning on my elbows as my gaze meets his.

He hovers over me, but it’s not sensual like a lover, it’s intimidating, his energy whipping around him like a lightning storm, making my hair stand on end.

He’s so close, I can taste his breath as if it were my own.

“What I want,” he whispers against my lips. “Is for you to stop playing me for a fool.” He presses in further, his eyes swirling with emotion. “What I want, is to bring souls back from the dead, and let them feast on your father’s screams.” His nose runs along the length of my neck, and I suck in a breath, my heart pumping so fast it makes my head spin. “Can you give me any of those things, Wendy, darling?”

My middle squeezes tight. How could I forget? This isn’t about me at all. It’s about my father.