Hooked (Never After, #1)(54)

I’m not sure what makes me do it, and I’m sure at the end of the night—when I’m forced back into the reality of my situation—I’ll regret it, but I reach up, my hand rubbing his arm. “Darling, my feet are getting tired. Do you think you can show me to our seats?”

Hook’s gaze lands on me, his brows jumping to his hairline and his eyes softening. He picks up my hand with his, bringing it to his mouth, skimming his lips across the back. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Shivers dance up my arm, traitorous butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

What is wrong with me?

He nods to the couple. “Commissioner. Linda. If you’ll excuse us.”

My gut flips as we walk, nerves making my limbs tremble, wondering whether he’s going to be angry that I interrupted his chat. What was I thinking?

“I’m sorry,” I mutter as we reach the table. “I just—you looked uncomfortable, and he kept going on and on and I—”

Hook pulls out a chair for me to sit, leading me into it with his finger pressed against my lips. “Hush.”

My mouth snaps closed, unease worming its way through me like a snake. I’ve never experienced as much anxiety in my life as I do around him. Most of the time, his personality is calm waters, still and sparkling and as clear as glass. But a single drop can disrupt the entire surface, and you never know when the rain will hit.

I glance around at the few other people sitting at the table. In the past, I’ve known most everyone at these events. But this is Massachusetts, not Florida, so all of these people are strangers. None of them are paying any attention to me, anyway. It’s him they all have their eyes on, and I don’t blame them. Even knowing what he’s capable of—knowing what he’s done to me—there’s a certain type of feeling that comes along with being on the arm of the most powerful man in the room. I wish I could ignore it, but it’s there whether I want it to be or not. The same way that I can’t shake off the conversation between him and the commissioner. I’ve never seen Hook rattled before, and this. This rattled him. I try to push the thought from my mind, knowing I shouldn’t give a damn.

But I do.

Before he showed his true colors, I was falling for him. Or for the version he presented, anyway. And feelings don’t just go away, they merely shift and change as your soul breaks, molding themselves into the cracks. My feelings for Hook may be mangled and unrecognizable, but that doesn’t mean they’ve disappeared.

“I met Ru, didn’t I?” I ask, unable to stop the words from leaping off my tongue.

His fingers pause from where they’re drumming on the table. “You did.”

“It’s nice he got to retire.”

Hook’s face snaps to mine. His hand shoots out, gripping underneath my seat and pulling, my chair dragging loudly across the wood floor. I gasp, the air cold as it flows down my throat, clashing with the heatwave of embarrassment rising through my chest.

His nose brushes mine, the intensity of his glare freezing me into place. “I don’t know what game you’re playing,” he whispers. “But it stops now. I suggest you don’t test me.”

My heart stutters. “I’m no—not playing any games.”

He breathes in deep, his gaze flickering from my eyes to my mouth, then back, energy crackling in the space between us. And then he looks past me, and his entire demeanor changes.

I jump when his palm lands on my thigh underneath the table, squeezing in a bruising grip. “Remember what’s at stake.”

I scoff, anger brewing in my gut. “As if I’d forget, I—”

“Wendy?”





31





James





Wendy twists in her seat, coming face-to-face with Peter.

“Dad?” she gasps. She starts to rise from her chair and my grip on her thigh tightens, holding her in place. She turns to me, her brows drawing in, and I cock my head, meeting her gaze and holding it.

It’s obvious when realization hits; her eyes dim and her lips turn. She looks from me to her father, and then over to Tina, who’s standing there gawking in a sparkly green dress with gold trim.

Peter’s face is a mask of confusion, his forehead wrinkling as he gazes between us. I move my hand from Wendy’s thigh, draping my arm along the back of her chair. This is the moment he’ll realize that their little plan didn’t work.

That even though they took Ru from me, I still have her. She didn’t get away.

“Peter,” I greet. “What a pleasure.”

His lip curls. “Hook.”

“I’d make introductions, but I’m quite sure you’re already well acquainted.”

He stands still, his features frozen, until waiters bringing out salad force him to move. He clears his throat, pressing his hand against Tina’s back and moving her toward their seats.

Wendy’s body deflates. I look at her with a wide grin. That’s right, pet. Game over. Nobody plays against me and comes out with the upper hand.

The servers drop off the salad dishes, and I pick up my fork, excitement thrumming through my veins as I spear a cherry tomato, reveling in the way Wendy fidgets and Peter glares.

Leaning in, my arm still on the back of her chair, I place the fork in front of Wendy’s mouth. “Hungry?”