Page 104 of Hook

“Sir?” he answers after the second dial tone.

“Call a meeting at Neverland in two hours. I’ve found the rat.” I don’t let him answer and end the call, walking toward my Porsche. Violence is brewing like a thunderstorm within me, and by the time I make it back to San Diego I know that Frank will wish he was never born.

* * *

I standin front of my men, pacing back and forth. The weight of my hook feels good as it grounds me, while part of me wants to implode with the rage coursing through my veins and annihilate everything in my path.

All of them are unaware of what’s about to happen.

“Frank, can you step forward please?”

My hook is firmly in place, and my phantom limb aches in anticipation. This man is going to be gutted and carved up like a fucking pig on the butcher’s table.

Frank steps forward, brow furrowed, as if he has no idea why he’s being called out. “Yes, sir?”

“I have evidence that you’ve been working against me.”

Frank’s expression turns to fear so fast and the blood drains from his face. I notice the way he looks toward Smyth, as if he can save him from this. No one can save this sniveling excuse of a man.

“All of you know what happens to men who betray me, don’t you?” I ask, still pacing in front of them.

“Sir, I didn’t—”

“Silence,” I demand, glaring at Frank. “I don’t want to hear pleas of innocence, or I’ll slice your tongue out.”

Frank’s mouth snaps shut so fast. They all know how depraved I can be when it comes to torture. I learned from the best, my father—the crocodile, as his men called him, because he wouldn’t hesitate snapping a man in two if that man crossed him like a crocodile would. The memory draws me right back to the moment he called himself that, after he’d chopped my hand clean off.

“How did you explain this as an accident?” I ask, holding my arm up.

His eyes flash with wicked delight at the question. “You were being naughty and playing in your da’s study, where you’re not allowed to go, and you stubbled upon my decorative machete.”

“What, and I chopped my own hand off?”

He tilts his head. “It was a terrible accident, as we’ve said.”

“You’re a monster,” I say.

He arches a brow. “A crocodile. May it be a lesson to you both.” He signals to me and Kira. “This is what happens when you cross me.” His gaze lands on my ma. “You too, love.”

“Cillian?” Smyth says my name, drawing me back to the present. “Do you want me to strap him down?”

I stare at the rat before me. “No.”

Frank’s Adam’s apple bobs and he watches me like a deer caught in headlights. He could run. I enjoy chasing my prey. Depravity runs deep. It’s a part of who I am and that’ll never change. I’ll never apologize for my darkness. I wonder if that’s why Gwendolyne can’t love me. She’s too sweet and innocent, and I’m too broken and damaged.

I take off my suit jacket, rolling my shirt sleeves to my forearm and stalking toward Frank. He cowers against the wall, knowing there’s no escape. I grab him by the neck, throwing him onto the floor.

“You should have known better than to cross me,” I say loud and clear for all my men to hear. “But now you’re going to pay.” I slide the hook under his chin and force him to look into my eyes. “You all know what happens when someone gets on the wrong side of me.”

“Sir, I—”

I increase the force of my hook and slice into his skin, making him cry in agony. I pull it away and bash the edge of it into his face, knocking him flat to the floor with a crack as his cheekbone fractures from the force.

I slowly drag the hook through his shirt, tearing it apart and grazing his chest as blood pools at the surface.

The coward screams and I’ve hardly started yet.

His eyes are wide with terror as I keep cutting until his body is covered in bloody lines. Blood pools around him as he cries for mercy, but I refuse to show emotion or compassion—that would be a sign of weakness, something that I cannot afford to do if I want to maintain my power over these men. The one decent lesson I was taught by father.

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