Hooked (Never After, #1)

by Emily McIntire

I’m in front of the mirror, adjusting the ill-fitting clothes Moira bought since what I was wearing is now shredded on the floor—something I’ve noticed James loves to do. My eyes flicker to him through the mirror as he stands behind his desk. He’s finally washed the blood off his arms and is now buttoning up his shirt, covering the scars that mar every inch of his torso. My heart twists, wondering how they got there and feeling a heavy sense of purpose, knowing that he let me see.

In fact, for a man who’s as popular as Peter, he seems to have disappeared off the face of the planet. It leaves me feeling uneasy. Everything, as of late, seems to be leaving me unsettled—a foreboding feeling, a storm brewing, and without radar, no idea of when it will hit or the destruction that will be left behind.

I chickened out and didn’t go to the Vanilla Bean, not wanting to come face-to-face with an angry, outspoken Angie. If her text messages are any indication, she’s not exactly happy with me, assuming that I bailed and disappeared, deciding I didn’t need the money. So I took the coward’s way out and sent her a text instead. She hasn’t replied.

“You want to watch the world burn?” “Let me guess, you’ll set it on fire?” I ask. He chuckles, the sound vibrating through me and settling into my bones. “No, darling. I’ll hand you the match and stand at your back, watching you become queen of the ashes.”

“You’re beautiful,” I gasp as he pulls out and thrusts back in. He smirks. “Am I?”

“Yes.” My heart swells in my chest, and my hand reaches up to trail along his jaw. “You’re dark and moody and mysterious. But beautiful.” Leaning down, he sucks my tongue into his mouth and sets a steady pace, my walls squeezing around his length as if my body wants him closer. Needs him deeper. His lips break away, his hand wrapping around my throat the way he knows I love. “Darling, if I’m the dark, then you’re the stars.”

I hadn’t realized until now just how much I needed to hear them. But instead of saying it back, I kissed her silly and gave her food and roses, like that would make up for the fact that I couldn’t get the words to pass my lips. Not that I don’t feel them; I do. I just don’t know how to say them. And therein lies the problem.

I was feeling off all morning. I told James I loved him, and he couldn’t say it back. Not that I was expecting it, but still, when you lay out your emotions, it hurts when they aren’t returned. But him checking in on Jon, even while he was spinning a different tale to me? That means more than any words ever could. I pull up James’s number on my phone and dial, my heart swelling with gratitude for what he’s done. I want him to know that I know, and I also want to tell him where I’ll be. He won’t be happy, but he promised not to control my life.

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 he and Moira are close.

“I wouldn’t kill him at all if I were you.” Heat surges through my blood as my eyes meet Starkey, red stains covering his shirt and a bruise swelling on the side of his face—I’m assuming from the twins. I would say I feel betrayed, but the truth is, with Starkey, I should have known.

My father taps his gun on his leg, his stance rigid, his eyes as hard as steel. If you had asked me a month ago, I would have told you there was no way my father owned weapons. Yet here he is, looking every bit the gangster.

“The greatest thing I’ve ever done in my life was to love you, Wendy darling.”

The tears that stream down my face are real, remembering the father who brought me acorns and always said good night. But that man didn’t exist in the end, and I pray I helped his soul find peace. Because he wasn’t finding it here.

And to think, it all started with a little bit of faith. Misplaced trust. Missing pixie dust. And a villain who just needed to steal a little love.