Walking past the charred trees, I ignore the way my chest pulls from the memory of Ru’s body lighting up in flames, and head into the entrance of the cave. I go through the narrow rocky hall, and into the large opening, my steps faltering when I see Wendy, unconscious, tied to a chair with dried blood on the side of her face.
My heart falls to the floor, fire decimating my insides at the sight.
I will burn them all.
“Hook, nice of you to make it!”
My chest cramps at Peter’s voice. I had been holding out hope that it wasn’t actually Wendy’s own father who would go to such extremes just to get to me.
“Peter.” I place my hands in my pockets. “Funny seeing you here, being a disastrous father figure, once again.”
He chuckles as he looks at his daughter. “Yeah, well, sometimes sacrifices must be made.”
I tilt my head. “You would harm your own daughter?”
His eyes darken. “She wasn’t supposed to be hurt. Tina got a little carried away.”
“Hmm.” I glance over at her again, focusing on the even rise and fall of her chest, the relief from seeing her breathing making me able to focus on Peter instead. “Maybe you need to keep a tighter rein on your bitch.”
He runs a hand over his mouth, his shoulders lifting. “You’re probably right. But what can you do? Women.”
I sigh. “I tire of playing these games, Peter. Tell me why you lured me here.” I put my arms out to the sides. “I assume that’s what all of this is for?”
“He didn’t.”
A new voice comes from behind me, and the blood in my veins freezes over at the familiarity.
It’s not possible.
I resist the urge to spin around, not wanting to turn my back on Wendy, even for a moment. But before long, he moves to stand in front of me.
He looks different. His hair is slicked back, a solid black suit fitted to his frame. He looks like me.
A smile cracks along his boyish face. “Hello, boss man.”
My mouth opens, and I blow out a breath, betrayal sinking deep into my chest, splitting apart the cavity. “Smee.”
“Surprise!” He lets out a cackle, spinning around in a circle. “Wow, this is so much more than I hoped it would be.” He presses a hand to his chest. “You’ll forgive me, of course, for my excitement. I’ve been waiting for this moment a long time.”
My stomach churns, anger and hurt mixing together until my vision blurs. My eyes flicker past him to Wendy, her head shaking back and forth, her body fighting against her restraints as she comes to. Relief floods through me.
Good. That’s a good sign.
Smee snaps in my face. “Pay. Attention. To. Me.”
I grin, my teeth clenching together as I reach in my pocket and pull out my blade, twirling it slowly through my fingers. “You know,” I start. “It’s incredible that after all these years, I’d find you here.” I step closer to him. “Betraying me.”
His eyes narrow. “You’re right. We have been together for years. And every day was torture, knowing who you were and not killing you in your sleep,” he spits, a sneer marring his features.
I press a hand to my chest, sticking out my bottom lip. “That hurts, Smee. I thought we were friends.”
He laughs. “Oh, we’re more than friends, James Andrew Barrie.”
My lungs compress at the use of my full name.
“We’re cousins.”
45
James
The breath freezes in my lungs, my heart faltering from where it beats against my chest.
Cousins means that he’s my uncle’s child.
But my uncle didn’t have any children.
“Impossible,” I say.
“Improbable. But it’s the truth.” Smee shakes his head. “I was there the night you killed my father.”
My brows rise, surprise flickering through me as I think back on the night I took my uncle’s life. I was in a bit of a rage, so I suppose it’s not beyond the realm of possibility that someone was looking in.
I glance behind Smee, to where Wendy is looking around, her arms moving as if she’s trying to free herself from constraints. Peter stands in the corner, but his eyes are locked on me, his face pinched and his eyes hard.
“You’ll meet him again soon enough,” I reply. Lunging forward, my blade is at his throat in a matter of seconds. “It’s very stupid of you to bring me here, thinking you would make it out alive.”
He laughs, his Adam’s apple pressing against the hooked edge. “You’ve always overestimated your own importance. It’s what made it so easy to come into your life; pretending to be homeless as I sat next to the bar where you work.” He grins. “It’s also why it was so easy to sway people to work for me instead.”
My knife presses deeper into his skin. “My people are loyal to me.”
“Your people are afraid of you.” His eyes flash. “But I didn’t go after them. I found the ones who were wronged. And when I told them that I would bring you to justice, taking over and treating them right… well.” He smirks. “It was easy after that.”
“It’s a shame,” I say. “I tried so hard to keep you from this life.” A dull throb smarts against my insides. “I won’t enjoy killing you.”
“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.
However, none of that matters, because all I can focus on now is the fact he has his gun pressed to Wendy’s temple, his finger poised and ready on the trigger. My eyes soak her in, trailing along her person to see if she’s been hurt again. But she seems okay. Her jaw is stiff, and she’s glaring at her father.
“Sammy.” Peter straightens from where he’s leaned against the cave wall, pulling his own gun from his waist. “This was not part of the plan.”
Smee’s head twists from where it’s still pressed against my knife. “Plans change, Peter. I told you the only way to get James to heel was to put her in danger. You knew the risks, and you agreed.”
Wendy’s eyes widen, her mouth parting on a gasp. “You what?”
“Hello, darling,” I cut in, my gaze flicking to Starkey. “It’s extremely wonderful to hear you speak. Are you alright?”
Her eyes soften. “You mean besides the gun to my head?”
I smirk, and Starkey’s body stiffens, his hand moving the barrel before pressing it under her jaw. “This isn’t a fucking joke,” he seethes. “Let Croc go.”
Wendy winces as Starkey pushes his pistol into her chin, and a shot of fear surges through my insides.
Her eyes widen as she locks her gaze on mine. “James. No.”
Starkey snaps, his hand ripping open her jaw and shoving the gun in her mouth.
Rage consumes me, and a terror like I’ve never known follows close behind. Because as much as I would love to pry the skin off of Starkey’s body and break every bone for thinking he could touch her—I’m halfway across the room.
And I’m not willing to risk her life on the off chance he’s bluffing, when I know deep down, he’s not.
Licking my lips, my fingers tighten around the handle before I step back, raising my palms in the air, the knife clattering to the ground.
Smee grins, immediately swooping down to pick it up. He flips it over a few times in his hands, his eyes soaking in every detail. Looking back up at me, he points the tip of the blade in my direction. “Any other weapons I should know about?” He glances behind him to where Wendy sits, her cheeks wet, Starkey’s gun still held inside her mouth. I reach behind my back, pulling out my pistol and dropping it to the floor.
Laughing, Smee turns to Peter and claps his hands. “What did I tell you, Pete? The boy is in love.” He sighs, looking back at me, reaching in his pocket and pulling out something bulky, covered in a cloth. Slowly, he starts to unwind the fabric. “To muffle the noise.” He winks. “For dramatic effect.”
The cloth drops to the ground and with it, my mind does as well.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
My fists clench at my sides.
Smee holds up a glass pocket watch, his grin so wide it touches his cheeks. “Do you like my new toy? It’s almost as loud as the one you made me throw overboard the other day.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
My lungs squeeze tight at the noise, flashes of crocodile boots and the clicking of locked doors flashing inside my mind, making my chest rip open, my memories being flayed and sliced into fresh wounds.
He walks toward me until the tips of his shoes meet mine, bringing the watch up, and pressing it to my ear. “Do you know how difficult it is to find a watch that actually ticks? The one I used to have was special. It was just like my father’s.” He frowns. “But I needed to make sure that what Starkey told me was true.”
My hands fly to my head, trying to drown out the noise, my nerve endings clawing at my skin like a thousand bugs, desperate to escape. Red starts to soak into my vision, the haze bringing rage and shame—a volatile mix that constantly lives inside me. My palms shoot out, gripping Smee’s shirt in my hands, balling the fabric and lifting until his feet barely touch the ground.