Hooked (Never After Series)

It’s the pounding in my head that wakes me. My lashes flutter, a sharp ache stabbing between my eyes. I try to press my palm against the pain, but my movement is stilted, something clanking when I move.

I pull again, and my body jerks forward before falling back against something hard. My brain is sluggish, like driving out of a storm only to end up in thick fog, but as I start to wake, I realize that I am definitely not lying down. And my arms are stuck.

The thought of opening my eyes fully makes my stomach churn, but still I pry my lids apart one at a time, my face scrunched in preparation for the light.

When my gaze focuses, I realize it’s dark.

Really dark.

Awareness trickles back in, and my heart picks up speed, kicking against my ribs.

I squint my eyes, trying to get my bearings, but it’s hard to focus. Hard to think.

Swallowing, I wince against the scratch of my throat and peel my dry tongue from the roof of my mouth. I try to move my hands again, but they don’t go far, that same clinking noise from earlier reverberating in my ears and off the walls. Glancing down, I can barely make out thick metal shackles clamped around my wrists. My stomach twists, a dose of panic flooding through my veins. I splay my fingers, feeling something cold and hard underneath me.

Okay, Wendy. Everything is okay.

My heart pounds a staccato rhythm as I blink quickly, trying to adjust my vision to see in the dark. But it’s no use. The icy tendrils of fear snake up my spine, coiling like vines around my body and squeezing tighter with every breath. I yank my arms against the chains again, harder this time, causing a sharp ache to shoot down my arm, and a sting to slice through my wrists. Closing my eyes, my head smacks against the cold wall as I try to steady my breathing.

Being in a panic won’t help.

What happened?

My birthday.

Then James.

Hook.

The memory comes rushing through like a stampede, flooding over the mental barrier of my drowsiness and cracking my chest in two.

A click sounds from the opposite side of the room, and my head turns toward the noise, my eyes squeezing when a door opens and light floods in from a hallway.

“Good. You’re awake.”

My body trembles as I watch Curly step into the room. He shuts the door, leaving it wedged open a crack to allow the brightness to filter through.

“Wh—” I wince, the scratch in my throat making talking difficult.

His steps are audible on the floor as he comes near, and I attempt to curl in on myself, to hide from this man as much as possible, even though there’s nowhere for me to go.

Curly stops in front of me, the right side of his lips pulling up. “Hiya, sunshine.”

I stare at him for long seconds, disgust weaving through my insides and rolling around in my gut. He was always so sweet. I actually thought maybe we could become friends, but here he is, looking at me chained to a wall and smirking.

“Fuck.” My voice catches, but I swallow around the sting and continue. “You.”

He crouches down in front of me, a plastic plate in his hands. “Now, that’s not very nice. It’s not like I put you down here.”

Anger simmers deep in my gut.

“I brought you some food.” He reaches over, picking up a piece of what looks like bread. “Open up.”

I press my lips together, turning my head.

He sighs. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be.”

Something inside of me snaps, and my eyes narrow, my face whipping back toward him. A small amount of saliva pools in my mouth as I take in the smell of the bread being held in front of me. I collect it at the tip of my tongue, and spit in his face.

The sound of the plate clattering to the floor is the only noise in the room other than the beats of my heart and the sound of our breathing.

His grin drops, his warm eyes icing over as he wipes the wetness from his cheek. “Fine.” He leans in. “You can fucking starve.”

He grabs the plate from the floor and walks away. The door clicks open and closed, and I’m alone again in the dark.

My stomach cramps, a ball of something heavy and sharp expanding in my middle, tearing through my calm until I’m gasping for air, my heart beating so fast I think I may have a heart attack.

Time moves differently when you’re chained in an empty room. My mind is still woozy and my body trembles with a shiver so deep I feel it in my bones. I go in and out of restless sleep no matter how much I try to stay awake—to formulate some type of plan.

My eyes peel open after another bout of losing consciousness. I had to have been drugged.

I’m not sure how many hours it’s been, or maybe it’s been days, but my vision has long since adjusted to the darkness, and I’m able to clearly make out a long table pushed against the far edge of the room, a small mound of what looks like packaged powder stacked at one end.

I squint my eyes, trying to see clearer, to figure out if it’s something I can somehow get to and use to my advantage.

But I know it’s fruitless. There’s nothing I can do. No weapons at my disposal, not that I’d know how to use them even if there were. No chance of getting to them even if I did, what with me being stuck to a wall.

All I have now is my faith.

Trust.

“Pixie dust.”

My heart stutters at the silky accent, my stomach rising and falling like a roller coaster. My head snaps to the right, noticing for the first time since waking that there’s a chair only a few feet away. And James is sitting in it, legs spread wide as he watches me, his gloved hands relaxing comfortably with a knife in his lap.

He tilts his head toward the table I was staring at. “What you’re looking at. It’s pixie dust.”

My stomach cramps as he stands up and walks toward me, his beauty making my nerves light up. Nausea follows close behind at the way my body reacts to him. At the way I gave him everything only for him to be the villain in disguise.

The clack of his steps bounce off the walls, the vibration splitting open my chest, my blood pumping heartache on the floor. He stops in front of me, his perfectly polished black shoes resting at the tips of my bare feet.

I grind my teeth, a sharp stab of pain vibrating up my jaw.

“You should eat.”

“Get fucked,” I spit out.

He tsks. “What did I tell you about that filthy mouth?”

My head tilts as I glare up at him. “You’ve said a lot of things, Hook. Turns out I really, really don’t give a damn about a single one.” The curse words feel strange as they fall from my lips, but right now, they’re all I have. I know they bother him, and since I can’t break free and scratch his eyes out with my nails, I have to settle for what I’ve got.

His lips curve into a thin smile. It sends shivers down my spine. He points at me with his knife. “I’m not the liar here, darling. Let’s not cast stones from glass houses.”

“I don’t even know what’s going on!” My body jerks as I pull at the chains, my hands smacking uselessly against the floor.

His eyes flick from my face to where I’m bound to the wall, the grin dropping from his face. “Playing the victim is a terribly unbecoming trait.” His voice is flat, and the hollow tone makes my chest compress, realizing the warm charm I was used to has disappeared entirely.

I huff out a breath, disbelief squeezing my middle. “You have me chained to a wall,” I state.

He nods. “A temporary tactic, I assure you.”

My eyes narrow, anger bubbling in my gut. “You drugged me.”

He flips his knife through his fingers, the move so practiced and smooth it sends a spike of fear bolting through my chest.

“Would you have come willingly?” His brow lifts.

A ball lodges in my throat, my insides fracturing from the strength it takes to keep from letting tears escape. “I would have gone anywhere with you.” My voice breaks. “Please, I—”

I lose the battle to my emotions, and wetness coasts down my face, the tears hot against my chilled skin.

He crouches down, blade hanging between his legs, his gaze stripping me bare and burning me alive. “Your father took something,” he pauses, his eyes briefly closing. “Something irreplaceable from me.”

My heart stalls, and I sniff, trying to stop my nose from running with my tears. “My father? I don’t—”

He shoots up from his position, pacing across the room until he meets the chair, his hand wrapping around the back and flinging it toward me. My lungs seize, stomach dropping to the floor as the wood splinters next to my head, my hair blowing from the force of it smashing against the wall. He stalks back to me, lunging forward and gripping my jaw tightly in his hands. “Don’t play innocent, you vapid, stupid girl.”

My heart claws at my chest, hiccups stuttering my breath as his insults and small pieces of wood slice like paper cuts along my skin. Looking straight into his eyes, I search for a sliver of the man I thought I knew. The man who I gave everything to.

But he’s long gone.

Or maybe he never existed at all.

He’s right. I am a stupid girl.

My tongue swipes out, getting caught on the rough, chapped edges of my lips, and I speak slowly, trepidation filling me from the inside out. This man—Hook—is a stranger. And something whispers in the back of my head to tread carefully. To do whatever it takes to just stay alive.

My father will come for me. He has to.

“James,” I speak slowly. “If my father… if he did something.”

His sharp laugh soars through the air, his grip tightening until my teeth cut into skin. “You showed up at my bar,” he hisses. “And then you distracted me when others needed me most.”

I attempt to shake my head, but his grasp is strong, his eyes wild as they stare into mine, before flicking to the chains at my side.

My insides are twisted in tight coils, nerve endings frazzled and frayed, and I watch this stranger as he rages at me with the fire of a thousand suns. He looks like he wants to kill me.

My fingers press into the ground at my sides, my heart beating in my throat.

Leaning his head to the side, his eyes close in a slow blink. And when they open, the fire has been doused.

He’s a blank slate. His gaze just two vacant holes, rimmed in blue.

The grip on my jaw loosens, his gloved fingers caressing my skin like a lover, before his focus flicks to the bindings on the wall.

I inhale, holding it in my lungs, afraid to even breathe, worried that it might set him off again.

He stands, pulling something out of his pocket.

My body cowers, chest squeezing as he nears. He hovers above me, his spicy scent invading my nostrils, and making me hate myself for the way my heart skips at the smell. A jostling sensation on my wrist, and then a click, followed by pinpricks of pain lancing down my arm as blood flows freely back into my hand.

He’s unlocking my chains.

“I find it’s rather erotic having you cuffed to my walls,” he says as he moves to the other side. “But you’re no use to me damaged.”

I pull my arms to my chest, my fingers rubbing against the raw skin of my wrist.

“At least not at the moment.”

His face comes within inches of mine, my stomach compressing at the sudden movement. “If you act out, I will retaliate.”

Heartbreak sits heavy in my gut, rising up and coating my throat like bile. “What could you possibly do that you haven’t already done?”

His eyes dance over my face, almost as if he’s memorizing the lines. The sudden switch of his demeanor makes unease weave through my every cell. He leans in, pressing his lips to mine. My body freezes in place, eyes widening.

His thumb caresses my cheek. “You will eat. You will drink the water we provide.” His fingers reach around to the nape of my neck, squeezing slightly. “And you will not do anything reckless, or I will chain you to the ceiling and rain your blood onto the floor.”

Betrayal lodges deeper with each word he says until it fills up every pore and marinates in my blood. “I hate you,” I whisper.

He smirks before he forcefully tosses my head away, my hands catching my body as I tumble sideways, my elbows cracking as they hit the ground.

Standing up, he runs his gloved palms down the front of his suit. “Do not make the mistake of thinking I’m someone you can disrespect.”

Nausea sloshes through my gut.

I watch from my spot on the floor as he moves to the end table, collecting the stack of pixie dust and heading toward the door. He pauses at the threshold, turning to look at me. “Do try to behave, darling. I’d hate to have to punish you.”

And then he turns, and once again, I’m all alone.