Page 100 of Hook

I shake my head. “There’s no treasure on this earth that means more to me than you.”

She narrows her eyes. “If that’s the case, then you should let me go.”

“And allow that piece of shit, Piero, to lay his hands on you?” I shake my head. “No fucking chance.”

She reaches or my face and cups it, the gesture gentle. “Tell me what happened between you two.”

I know that if I want a chance at salvaging this twisted mess I’ve made, then I have to come clean. I’ve not spoken of Piero’s betrayal to anyone but Smyth and Ma since it happened. “It’s hard for me to get into it.”

“Is he the reason you only have one hand?” she presses.

I shake my head. “Do you think I’d go to these lengths to destory a man, all because he chopped my hand off?”

She shrugs. “You’re a little crazy.”

I can’t help but smile at that. “No, that’s another story all together.”

Her lips purse together. “Tell me both.”

I sigh heavily. “My da chopped my hand off when I was ten years old because I broke his grandma’s vase.”

She gasps, holding a hand over her mouth. “Your dad?”

I nod in response.

“What kind of father would—“

“He was nothing but a sperm donor. I wouldn’t call him a father.”

Her lips purse together. “That’s terrible.”

I shrug as I got over that a long time ago, but it was the seed that turned me into the twisted, dark individual I am today.

“Why did you say it was a crocodile?”

I laugh. “It was. My dad’s nickname was the crocodile. He was ruthless and would snap a man’s fucking head off for looking at him the wrong way.”

Gwendolyne shudders. “What about Piero?”

I look into her emerald green eyes, knowing that I want to tell her everything. I want to bare my soul to her and hope that she accepts me; every dark and warped part of me. As I search those eyes, I know that she won’t accept me. I’m too broken and damaged for her.

“I can’t get into that.”

“Why not?”

I swallow hard, feeling myself disappearing into my memories of the day I found out what Piero had done.

My da and sister are dead. Suddenly, my cell phone rings and I pick it up.

“Cillian,” my ma’s tearful voice sounds on the other end. “T-they’re dead.”

Numbness spreads through me, as I can’t wrap my head around what is happening. “Ma, where are you?”

“I’m in Palm Springs visiting my sister,” she says, her voice strained. “How has this happened?”

I shake my head, as I have no idea. “I don’t know. Stay put and don’t go out. You could be in danger.” I swallow hard, unsure how I’m keeping it together. “I’ll call you back.” I end the call, my heart pounding in my ears. “Who can I call about this?” I ask, looking at Smyth.

“Piero?” he suggests.

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