Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
He’s not wrong. Still … Ignoring this summons is a mistake. I know it down to my very bones. I take a careful breath. “Then I’ll go in your stead.”
He finally turns to face me. “Absolutely not.”
“Either I’m your wife and partner or I’m a pretty little trinket you bought to keep locked up in this room. Which is it?” I’m holding my breath. It’s a mistake, and I can’t stop. I never should have voiced this question, never should have dared hope that he’d answer the way I suddenly very much need him to.
Hook crosses his arms over his chest. “If you do this, there’s no going back. Are you sure it’s what you want?”
My head goes a little fuzzy. I fully expected him to shoot me down. There’s no frame of reference for this unexpected question. “What?”
“With you acting the part of my prize, you have a chance to escape when this is all over.” His gaze is steady, no smile in evidence for once. “If you start playing my wife and partner in truth, you’re making a choice to take this. This territory. Power.” A significant pause. “Me.”
The fluttering in my throat transforms into a whirlwind of blades. “You’re trying to trap me.”
“I’m laying out the potential outcomes. It’s your choice, Tink. It’s always been your choice.”
The two paths forward spin out in front of me. I don’t know if he’ll really release me, but Hook has never gone back on his word before. There’s no reason to believe he’ll do it now, no matter how high the stakes.
With Peter dead, I could finally be free. Truly free, without a single threat dogging my heels. The possibility leaves me breathless. I’ve been entrenched in this life for nearly a decade. If I could leave it behind …
Where would I go?
All my clients are here. My …friends, though I’ve barely come to terms with the fact they exist. A new city means starting from the bottom and scrapping my way to the top. I can do it. I know I can do it.
The question is if I want to.
As for my other option … Do I really want to be responsible for more people than just myself? To fully embrace the darkness, even if it’s more like shadows than true night in this place? Hook has lines, but power has a habit of taking people to places they never anticipated. What’s to say he won’t cross his lines when push comes to shove?
What’s to say he won’t drag me down with him when he does?
That’s fear talking, but I don’t know how to silence it. I see the way his people look at him, as if he’s a god who wandered down to live amongst them in this city. There’s fear there, but they worship him in a way most leaders can only dream of. In return, he bears the weight of their safety around his neck. Do I truly want a share of that burden, even if the potential outcome is everything I’ve been too afraid to reach for on my own?
A home. A family. The kind of safety I’m not sure I believe in any more.
I look at Hook, really look at him. I can’t be sure, but I think he’s holding his breath, too. Waiting for my answer, for me to cut him down or embrace him wholeheartedly. I don’t know if I can do either. I’m too tangled up inside. “I want kids.”
He doesn’t even blink. “I want kids, too.”
Somehow, it makes me feel worse. It’s like standing in a snowstorm and seeing the perfect life laid out before me, except I’m separated from it by a thick pane of glass. I can press myself to it in an attempt to get closer, but it doesn’t have the power to chase away the cold eating at my bones. “I can’t be trusted to make this call. I’m flip-flopping so hard, I’m giving myself emotional whiplash.”
He sets his hands on my shoulders. It’s all the invitation I need to take that last step and let him enfold me in his arms. I hate how good it feels, that I can’t stand on my own when he’s right here to stand strong for both of us. I press my face to his chest and inhale deeply. “This will never work.”
“Not with that shitty attitude.” He strokes a hand over my hair. “But you’re right. It’s too soon to make that call. We’ll go to the Underworld together.”
“Thank you.” I sound subdued, but I don’t know how to change that. I can’t help but be grateful for the way he’s handling me, too. I feel fractured, held in place by the thinnest of layers, as if one wrong touch will send me crashing to the ground in pieces. In a different world, I’d be strong enough to hold myself together. But I don’t live in a different world; I live in this one. And in this one, I need all the help I can get.