Page 116 of Hook

Piero chuckles. “I want your head on a fucking platter, of course.” He tightens his grasp on his gun. “But I’m going to take my time with you. Make sure it hurts.”

I tilt my head to the side. “Why don’t you put down the gun and fight me like a man?”

He arches a brow. “The hook gives you an unfair advantage. It wouldn’t exactly be fair, would it?”

“Too scared, as always,” I say, shaking my head. “You always were a coward.”

Piero’s eyes narrow. “If you want to fight, take off the hook.”

I clench my jaw as the hook is my safety net. The idea of fighting with nothing makes my phantom limb ache, and yet I’ve got no choice. If I manage to fight hard enough and beat Piero with one hand, there’s nothing to stop Tilly or Smyth from shooting me. I look Smyth in the eye, but he doesn’t meet my gaze.

How much of my plan has he fucked with?

I don’t even know if my men are doing as I instructed right now. They’re supposed to be attacking Piero’s establishments and damaging his operation while he’s getting ready for this wedding. I know Piero well enough to know that any damage to his image will be more important to him than this wedding.

I notice a flash of movement by the window I’d climbed out of and realize Gwendolyne is watching us.

Fuck.

“Fine, I’ll remove it and fight you.” I don’t have to think about it for a second when I realize Gwen is going to do something stupid.

Unfastening my hook, I place it to one side, leaning toward the window where Gwen is watching us. “Don’t,” I breathe, giving her a warning glare.

Her responding glare tells me she’s not going to listen.

Turning around, I bring my fist up. “Give it your best shot.”

Piero smirks. “I’ll easily best half a man.”

I grind my teeth as he knows how much losing my hand affected me as a kid. I put everything into ensuring it didn’t hamper me. The idiot thinks one insult is going to rile me, but he doesn’t know me, not anymore.

He approaches and all I can think about is saving Gwen and our baby. “Let’s see what you’ve got,” I say, goading him into making the first move.

Piero bites like the predictable asshole he is. He jabs toward my left, knowing I haven’t got the cover on that side. A move I could see coming before he even jabbed. Dodging to my right, I evade it and then punch him with my right hand in the chest.

He grunts, eyes flaring with rage.

Good.

I know from experience that he gets sloppier the angrier he gets.

Piero growls as he launches forward, trying to land a punch on the right side of my face. I dodge out of the way and bring my fist into his gut, forcing him to double over in pain.

His jaw tightens as he straightens back up, the rage in his eyes flaring brighter.

That’s right, you stupid son of a bitch. Get angry and make a mistake.

He comes at me without much thought, every movement easy to read. I let him come, darting out of the way of each lazy blow, until I see an opportunity and punch him in the throat, making his eyes flare wide as he chokes.

“You’ve gotten too lazy, Piero. Too much sitting behind a desk pulling political strings,” I say, circling around him.

He can’t get any air in his lungs to speak, so he glares at me with murder in his eyes instead.

Good.

He’s close to making a mistake. Like I predicted, he lunges forward, taking a big swing. I block it and head-butt him across his nose. He stumbles back, hand clutching his face. Blood pours from between his fingers.

He swipes at my face but misses his target. I’ve already punched him in the jaw, my knuckles connecting with a satisfying crack.

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