Page 1 of Hook

1

CILLIAN

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock.

“Don’t move, or you’ll lose more than just a hand.”

“Jonathan! NO!” Ma tries to stop him, but there’s no use.

He has a crazed look in his eyes, no doubt a result of alcohol. The brightest bolt of lightning crashes to the ground outside, illuminating the room. Time appears to slow to a crawl, watching the machete swip through the air hard, slicing through my wrist. There’s a sickening crunch of bone and splatter of blood as I watch my hand come apart from my body. The pain is so intense I no longer hear anything but the rushing of blood in my ears and my own scream—at least, I think it’s my own. It could be Ma’s. The scream is unable to drown out the counting of the clock as everything fades to black.

“Sir!” Smyth’s frantic voice pierces through my memories and brings me back to the present. “You’re going to kill him before we get answers!”

I stare at the bloodied man before me, then at the ticking clock on the wall that shouldn’t be there. It pulls me toward a vortex of violence and destruction—toward an unstoppable rage that’ll force me to obliterate this sniveling excuse of a man before I get what I need from him.

I glance at Smyth. “Why the fuck is there a clock in here?” That sound has haunted me ever since that night twenty years ago.

“Apologies, sir,” Smyth says, retrieving the clock off of the wall. “I’ll get rid of it.”

“Make sure you do,” I snap, glaring at him. “I don’t want it within a hundred fucking miles of me, understand?”

Smyth nods and rushes away with it, leaving me alone with my target. A man who is officially employed by Piero but is supposed to be working for me. However, it appears he’s trying to doublecross me, feeding me bullshit information.

I stalk around the man in the chair, eyeing him menacingly. He’s shackled to a chair, his wrists already bleeding from struggling against the metal cuffs.

I want answers.

The floorboards creak beneath my loafers as I approach the table next to him. With a deliberate click, I unfasten my prosthetic hand and replace it with my infamous hook—the reason why they call me Hook. The cold steel of my weapon glitters under the faint light coming from above us.

He glances up at me through one eye; the other swollen shut after the two days of merciless beating he’d endured at my hand.

“Do you enjoy being able to see?” I ask in a low voice.

His lip trembles. “Please,” he begs.

Pathetic.

Moving closer to him, I bring the back of my good hand across his face in a hard slap. “I asked you a question. Answer me or I’ll prick your good eye from its socket with the tip of my hook,” I threaten, sliding the flat edge of the metal across his cheek, watching him tremble in fear.

His entire body is shaking. “I told you all I know about Pierro and his operation. Please, stop this.”

“You told me nothing other than lies.” I hiss, trailing the sharp point over his skin and drawing a thin line of blood, watching as it trickles down his face.

“They weren’t lies, I swear.”

“Another lie. You’ve sent me on a wild goose chase—one that will cost you your life.”

The man before me turns ghostly pale. “I swear, whatever Kevin told you, it’s a fucking lie!”

My fist collides with his jaw, and a sickening crack pierces the silence in my basement. His jaw is now broken and he can no longer talk. Although talking isn’t necessary as long as his right hand remains intact.

“Alright, since your jaw is broken, you’ll write everything I want to know.” Reaching into the pocket of my jacket, I pull out a pen and crumpled paper and slap them onto the small, musty table in front of him. “Write it all and don’t leave any details out.” I unfasten the chains around his wrists and stare at him expectantly.

His eyes are dull from fear and pain as he picks up the pen with a trembling hand. He struggles to form legible words on the paper. The handwriting looks childish, but I don’t care. All I need is for him to tell me what he knows about Piero’s next moves so that I can move forward with my plans.

My blood boils as I watch his pen scratch against the paper. Rage flooding through me because he’s been keeping things from me this entire time, and I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from ripping the paper out of his hands before he’s done. Every second feels like an eternity until finally he drops the pen.

I snatch the paper away from him, and what is written on it makes my fury double. He’s been lying to me all this time. The rage explodes within me like a volcanic eruption and I bang my palm on the table.

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