Far From Neverland

by River Hale

“Don’t look at me like that.” Moving away from the counter, I cross the kitchen in two strides. “Like what?” I trap him between me and the opposite counter, then place my hook beneath his chin and tilt his head up. “Like you still expect the best of me.”

My whole body tingles at his promise. I haven’t gotten enough of him either, and I’m terrified I may never get enough. I like having him in my bed. I like having his body beside mine. I like the way he feels inside of me, the power he has over me, the way he’s under my skin, in my bones. I may even love it all. But could I love him? Or is this going to break us both?

I stare down into Hook’s face, not breathing, trembling all over. My pain has become an afterthought. All I care about is Hook. All I want is for him to open his eyes. “He said I couldn’t destroy you.” The voice is right behind me, deep, grating, taunting. I don’t turn around. “Looks like he was wrong.”