Hooked: A Dark, Contemporary Romance (Never After #1)(57)

No. What is wrong with me? He wouldn’t let him die. Jon is still his child, after all.

My insides twist, disgust weaving its way through my middle at how easily my mind has gone from believing in the good of people to questioning what type of murder they’d accept. A few days around criminals and suddenly I’ve accepted it as fact.

It bothers me that it doesn’t bother me the way it should.

“Wendy, I’d like to speak with you, please.” My father wipes the corners of his mouth with his napkin before placing it down. “In private.”

My heart stutters, knowing that’s something Hook wouldn’t like, but... Hook isn’t here. And I deserve some answers. I nod my head, pushing my chair back and glancing around, half expecting someone to jump out and grab me, but with every step I take, the easier I breathe, realizing that nobody is going to come.

We walk through the ballroom until we reach the back patio doors, my father allowing me to exit first before he follows behind. We’re the only people out here, and a chill sets into my bones as I shiver from the cool breeze.

“He’s using you to get to me.”

I jerk from his sudden words, my hand coming to rest on my chest. I’m not sure what I expected. Maybe an apology for him not realizing I was gone, or for being able to show up here, but always missing everything else.

The fact that I clearly know nothing about my father pours down my throat until all I can taste is the bitter truth.

I shake my head, huffing out a laugh. “Did you really not know I was gone?”

“Wendy, be reasonable. If this is you acting out for attention, I—”

“Answer the question.” My fists clench at my sides.

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his brow. “My security team told me you weren’t home, and I assumed you were throwing a tantrum.”

His words blast through my chest like a bomb, charring my insides black. A tantrum. Like I’m a child.

“If I would have known that you were busy frolicking around with a psychopathic criminal, I would have scoured the earth to track you down.”

My mouth gapes as I stare at him. “How do you know that?”

“Know what?”

“That he’s a psychopathic criminal.” My stomach churns. “How do you know that?”

“How do you not?” He puts his arms out to the sides. “You’re playing a very dangerous game here, Wendy. One you know nothing about.”

The burn expands, scorching my throat. “Don’t belittle me!”

His eyes widen, and I step forward, my fingers running through my hair, my heart beating wildly in my chest. “I am so sick of everyone treating me like I’m some porcelain doll who’s supposed to keep her mouth shut and look pretty. My opinions matter.”

His gaze softens. “Of course they do, Little Shadow.” He moves toward me. “I’m trying here.”

I scoff. “You haven’t tried since Mom died.”

His jaw sets. “You know nothing about your mother.”

I throw my hands up. “So I’m just stupid, then. I don’t know Hook. I don’t know my mother. And I sure as hell don’t know you.”

“Is he forcing you to be here?” He steps even closer, his voice soft as if he’s trying to lure an animal into a cage. “Has he... has he hurt you?”

My breathing stutters as I grit my teeth, the urge to tell him screaming from the back of my throat. “How’s Jon?” I ask instead.

His movements falter. “What?”

“I asked how Jon was. You know, your son?”

“What does that have to do with our conversation right now?” His brows draw in.

“A lot, actually.” My heart swells with hope that he’ll tell me he’s been to see him. That he just spoke to him on the phone and he’s settling in well.

He runs a palm over his face. “I’m sure he’s fine.”

Disappointment settles like a brick, crashing through my insides, making a sob lodge in my throat. He hasn’t even talked to him. And if he can’t be trusted to make a simple phone call, how can I trust that he’ll make sure he’s safe from Hook?

Guilt wraps around me, realizing that Jon’s been all alone. Acclimating by himself.

Closing my eyes, I release a deep exhale, a sick feeling settling in my gut and expanding, until acceptance of my situation fills me up and wraps around my edges.

“He isn’t forcing me,” I say slowly.

“He’s using you to get to me,” he repeats.

He’s not wrong. Hook has all but told me that he only cares about getting to my father. But until this moment, I hadn’t known how much that revelation hurt. The days leading up to this have numbed me to the pain, but with acceptance comes realization, and now the wounds are throbbing from where Hook dug his way into my heart only to carve himself out.

The faint sound of a door opening and closing comes from behind me, but I don’t turn to see who it is. There’s no need.

It’s impossible not to feel him when he enters a room.

“Well.” His accent floats on the breeze, wrapping around my neck like a noose. “Isn’t this cozy?”

Heat envelops my back, Hook’s arm slipping around my center and pulling me flush into his body. My heart jumps in my chest, dinner rising through my throat until I have to cover my mouth to keep it down.