A Worthy Opponent: Wicked Villains #3

by Katee Robert

  “Stop it,” she whispers. “I’m nothing like him.”

  I don’t know why I expect her to include me in that, to set me apart from the man who terrorized her for four long years. I don’t know why it stings like a motherfucker that she doesn’t. “No, you’re not. He’s a monster.” Like me. “You’re in over your head and scared.” I have to get her to listen. Her safety and the success of my plan both hinge on her obeying me. “The people in this house, the people who are under our protection, don’t care about your motivations. All they care about are your actions.”

  She inches back from me. “I hate you.”

  Another sentence that strikes right to the heart of me. How the fuck can she not hate me after everything? I give her an arrogant grin to keep the truth buried deep—I don’t know if I can ever win Tink’s trust in any lasting way. “Try saying that with some conviction next time.” I have to get out of here. Fighting with Tink might be satisfying in a very particular kind of way, but I need to go undo the damage she just caused and keep Peter from doing damage of his own while I’m distracted with my new wife. He’ll be coming, and soon.

  It’s certainly not because part of me is sure that I’ll turn around and find her staring at me with real fear in those big eyes. I climb to my feet. “I’m having your shit brought here as soon as we can manage it. Try not to burn down anything in the meantime. I’ll be back for dinner.”

  “Dinner.” She looks at the large clock hanging just to the side of the cabinets in my kitchen. “It’s barely eight.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You said I was going to integrate with the household today.”

  I’m holding onto my temper through sheer force of will. “You were, Tink. Right up until you threatened one of my people with a knife and created a mess that I have to go clean up. I’ll see you tonight.” I head for the elevator. I have to. Staying here will mean sitting down and talking through what the hell is going on in her head and … I want to know. I really, truly want to know. I want to ease her fears. To build trust. To make a whole list of promises I have no business making.

  Instead, I walk away.

  Chapter 14

  Tink

  I’m not cut out for captivity. Hades discovered that early on and loosened my leash, saying I was no good to him if I fought him every second of every day. Hook apparently hasn’t gotten the memo. Or he flat out doesn’t care about my mental health.

  Not that I blame him. Not after the scene I caused earlier.

  If I’d been thinking clearly, I wouldn’t have tried for the front door. I sure as hell wouldn’t have pulled a knife on a guy who was big enough to make even Gaeton look like a normal sized person.

  But when I finally worked up the courage to leave the bathroom, all I could see was evidence of Hook everywhere I looked. I mean, I’m in his bedroom. Of course he’s put his stamp on every single surface. But it was too much and my brain short-circuited.

  The elevator doors open, and my heart leaps for a moment before I recognize Colin striding into the suite. He’s like a cute younger version of Nigel. Where Nigel has the sort of poise that his name brings to mind—even if I’ve seen him beat a man bloody more than once—when Colin isn’t trying to project badass, he’s as bouncy as a puppy.

  Or he used to be. I don’t know this new version of him with the hardness in his dark eyes and the scar marring the light brown skin of his left cheekbone. He stops short when he sees me, and the way his gaze flicks over me isn’t sexual in the least.

  More like he’s checking to ensure I don’t have any weapons handy.

  Colin holds up a phone. “Hook’s orders.” He steps just close enough to hand it to me before retreating again.

  I look at the carefully curated space between us. “Are you scared I’m going to pull a knife or afraid that Hook will gut you if he thinks you touched me?”

  Colin coughs out a laugh. “I’m being perfectly respectful of my cousin’s wife, who apparently has a deep and abiding love of knives.”

  I don’t have a good response to that, so I examine the phone. It’s already got a number of contacts keyed into it. I raise my brows as I read through them. Hook. Meg. Hercules. Aurora. Even Nigel is in here.

  A text comes through, and I snort. Hook’s already put a selfie of himself in his contact information and, damn, it’s a good one. He really has the smolder thing down. I click through to read the text.

  We talk tonight.

  No telling if that’s a threat or a promise, so I send him a gif of a cartoon flipping the bird and slip the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. “Why are you still standing there?”

  “I’m your protection detail for the day.” Colin looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here, and I can’t really blame him.

  I laugh. “You drew the short straw, huh?”

  “You have no idea.”

  I want to snarl and snap, but Hook’s earlier words still linger in the back of my mind. I am not like Peter. He knows that. He only said it to give me a verbal slap I more than deserved. It’s not Colin’s fault I’m in this situation. Hell, it’s not even Hook’s. He took advantage of my misfortune, but he didn’t orchestrate it.

  Finally, I exhale the tension threatening to creep up my shoulders to my ears. “What are the parameters that Hook set?”

  Colin’s looking at me like I might try to bite. “You have free range of the house, provided that you don’t pull a repeat of the earlier attack.”

  “But no limits on guests?”

  “No,” he says slowly. “He didn’t mention anything like that, though I’ll have to get anyone you want vetted.”

  I wave that away. I expect nothing less, though I’ll be damned before I invite someone over simply to spite Hook. No matter how tempting the thought. “He said my stuff will be here soon.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “When?”

  Colin shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  Yeah, that’s what I thought. I can appreciate Hook ensuring I get my possessions quickly, but ultimately he’s got other things on his mind. Other priorities. I’ve already lost too much work time in the last two days. I have a dress due to Isabelle Belmonte in a week, and I’ve only begun to sketch it. She’s got a particular style, and while I normally enjoy the challenge of working with her, it’s not something best left for last minute.

  “Well, thanks for this.”

  He picks up the clear dismissal and sighs. “I’ll be at the elevator doors downstairs if you need anything.”

  More like to ensure I don’t do anything impulsive. I nod. “Thanks.” This time, it actually sounds like I mean it. I barely wait for him to leave before I find Meg’s contact and call her.

  Despite the relatively early hour—most people who live in the Underworld are on a mostly nocturnal schedule—Meg answers rather quickly. “You know, if I’d realized you were desperate enough to marry Hook, I would have fought Hades harder on letting you stay.”

  I release a silent breath, something loosening in my chest. So she had fought for me. I’d thought so—I didn’t believe Meg would offer to let me stay on without having some intention of following through on it—but hearing her state it in her dry tone makes me believe it.

  It’s tempting to spill everything. To tell her about the threat Peter still represents and Hook’s plan to use me as bait to remove him once and for all. I open my mouth to do just that but stop before a single word escapes.

  We’re not on opposite sides. Meg’s not on any side but Hades’s … which is the point. Sharing the dirty details with her means sharing them with Hades, and I’m not willing to do that. Not when he could use it against Hook. Hades deals in information, after all. He’s not technically supposed to meddle in leadership shit with the territories, but if he’s not caught, who would know the difference?

  I clear my throat. “I’m doing okay. I chose this.”

  Meg’s silent for so long, I check to see if the call got disconnected. Finally, she says, “
If you change your mind, all you have to do is tell me. I’ll get you out.”

  Shock has me rocking back on my heels. She says it as if it’s fact; if I ask her, she’ll get me out. End of story. It unsettles me the same way Aurora’s defense did. Neither of them hesitate to defend me, to offer me a way out. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that. “What about Hades?” I ask weakly.

  “What about Hades? I have resources of my own, and you of all people know I’m not beholden to him beyond our relationship.”

  In my opinion, that’s plenty beholden, but I don’t point out lots of people have committed atrocities because they fell in love with the wrong person. Even I’m not immune, though the only person hurt when I was with Peter was me.

  I realize that Meg and Hades hardly have a relationship like Peter and I did. Hades is a cold bastard, but he sees Meg as a partner and has no intention of grinding away the things that make her her to ensure she never leaves him. I don’t really understand their relationship, but I know it’s nothing like mine and Peter’s.

  Still, it’s a big deal for her to challenge him on something concerning a deal. It could potentially have consequences that would spin out through all of Carver City. I can’t shrug off the offer because it means something. I swallow past my suddenly tight throat. “Thank you.”

  “If you’re not calling me to orchestrate an escape, why are you calling me?” Before I can register the sting of that, the reinforcement that my attempts to keep everyone at a distance for the last five years has more than paid off, Meg keeps going. “Did you want to grab a drink? Somewhere not in the Underworld?”

  “Yes.” The word startles me as much as how much I actually want to do exactly that. I want to get drinks with Meg, and coffee with Aurora and Allecto. Or, hell, drinks with all three of them. I haven’t been gone very long, but I miss them in a way I’m not prepared for. I tried so hard to keep myself separate, but the more distance I get from the Underworld, the more I realize I didn’t actually do that good of a job with it. That knowledge should frustrate me, should be yet more evidence of my failings.

  It doesn’t. I press my hand to my sternum. It feels good. Weirdly good. I glance at the elevator doors. “I have to take a raincheck, though, until we get a territory issue handled.”

  “Another time, then.”

  “I’ll hold you to it.” I clear my throat. “But the real reason I called was because I need a favor.”

  “Whatever you need.” The fact she doesn’t put qualifiers on it staggers me. Everything about this conversation is staggering me.

  Heavy emotions settle in my chest. Did I make a mistake trying to hold people at a distance? It seemed like the only choice available to me, the only one that would ensure I wouldn’t end up in a situation identical to the one I’d just escaped. I couldn’t trust my instincts because my instincts had said Peter was a good guy. His promises of a family that would love me without reservation—They weren’t worth the air he used to make them.

  I never stopped to think that trying to stay separate meant perpetuating the damage he did to me. It seemed smart at the time, but now I have a tiny amount of distance, I feel almost sad at the missed opportunities to deepen my friendships with Meg, Aurora, and Allecto. I didn’t even realize I was friends with them until two days ago. “I really do want to get drinks. And I really, really appreciate the offer to get me out—and Aurora’s offer to go head to head with Hades over me.”

  She doesn’t seem fazed by my circling back to that. But then, Meg’s always seen a bit too much when it comes to me. Proof of that is her almost gentle tone when she says, “We’re your friends, Tink. You’d do the same for us.”

  She’s right. The implications never even occurred to me. I give a tentative smile. “I would.”

  “Took you long enough to realize it.” She laughs softly. “But back to what you need from me …”

  Right. The initial reason for this call. “Hook has people coming for my stuff sometime soon, but I was hoping you could like, courier over some things today. Everything on my desk, specifically, and the green and gold bolts of silk.”

  “Tink … Have you seen your desk? It might be organized, but there is a truly fearsome amount of shit on it.”

  “Yes, Meg, I’ve seen my desk. Every time I sit down to work at it. Just throw everything in the extra suitcase in my closet. The sewing machine has a special case, so be careful with that. But I have a commission I really need to work on, and this asshole isn’t going to let me leave.”

  Something dangerous filters into Meg’s cool voice. “Isn’t he?”

  I realize what I just said and curse. “Not like that. Look, Peter’s on my ass. I thought he would have lost interest by now, but the second I left the Underworld, he was there.”

  “Yes, Hercules mentioned it.” She sounds so cold, I shiver. “You should have come back to the Underworld.”

  I couldn’t guarantee Hades would support me, but I can’t say that to her. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that Meg would go to bat for me, and I might be new to this whole friendship thing, but even I realize that telling her that would hurt her. “Hook will handle Peter.”

  “He damn well better.” She huffs out a breath. “Okay. I’ll get your desk packed. I can have it to you by early afternoon.”

  “You’re a goddess.”

  “No, I’m a Fury.”

  That draws a laugh from me. “Hell yes, you are.”

  “Maybe I should deliver these personally.”

  Alarm flares. If Hades is the distant lord of the Underworld, Meg is the one who is neck deep in everyone’s day-to-day bullshit. She manages all the employees, the books, and is usually the person who issues the initial threats and punishments when patrons get out of line. Some of those responsibilities have shifted to Hercules since he arrived and made their couple a throuple, but Hercules is a human-shaped teddy bear. Meg’s the muscle, even if she’s built like a goddamn bird. If she comes here, I can’t guarantee Hook won’t say something to piss her off, and then it’s a city-wide incident.

  I work to keep anything worrisome out of my tone. “No need for you to take time out of what’s no doubt a busy day. You’re looking for my replacement, right?”

  “Yes,” she says slowly. “You’re one hell of an act to follow. Everyone is too nice, too timid, or just too not you.”

  Warmth fills my chest, even as sympathy rises. No matter what else is true, I found myself in the Underworld and Meg’s one of the people who helped me get there. “You’ll figure it out.”

  “Without a doubt.” A deep male voice in the background and, when Meg speaks again, her voice has gone husky. “I’ve got to go. Your stuff will arrive this afternoon, and don’t think for a second that I’ll let you get out of getting that drink. Even if I have to come to you myself.”

  “Deal.” I manage a smile. “And thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, Tink. If I was more on top of things, you wouldn’t be married to Hook. He’s not a bad guy as such things go, but he’s exactly what you’ve tried to avoid for years.”

  There’s no denying that, so I don’t bother. Five years of running and I’m right back where I started—the main squeeze to the man who rules this particular slice of Carver City. The ruler of a territory. “Talk to you soon.” I hang up before she can say anything else. I recognize the voice in the background. Hercules. Meg’s probably off to bang her sexy younger man—seriously, they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, and Hades can’t keep his hands off either of them. They’re like a trio of teenagers, fucking all over the place.

  And I’m over here, not fucking anyone.

  I walk to the kitchen and set my phone on the counter.

  As much as I’d like to pretend I have options, I don’t. I tied my star to Hook’s, and that means falling in line, no matter how strong the instinct to dig in my heels and fight with everything I have. I agreed to this. He didn’t force me. Fighting me means he’s fighting on two fronts.

/>   Or maybe I’m just looking for an excuse to give in without damaging my already bruised pride.

  I dig through the fridge and am mildly surprised to find it fully stocked with fresh produce and a variety of other things. I didn’t know he could cook. It’s not numbered among my skillset, so I dig around until I find an apple and some peanut butter. There are also protein bars in the cabinet, protein shakes, and some tubs of powder with vaguely fitness looking labels. Of course there are.

  I ignore all those and slice up the apple and dab a metric shit ton of peanut butter on the plate. It works for a snack but less so for a meal. Maybe I can order out? I stare at my plate. Focusing on food and work seem all well and good, but what they’re really doing is failing to distract me.

  Approaching this situation haphazardly and without committing isn’t doing me any favors. The risks are too high to ignore; it’s why I’m here in the first place. More, my feelings for Hook aren’t as straightforward and negative as I had convinced myself they were. I care about him. I want him. Denying us both that pleasure when the threat of Peter’s shadow stretches over our every move …

  I sigh. All those things are true, yes, but they aren’t why I’m contemplating how I’ll play tonight. No. The truth is I want Hook. That’s it. Which means there’s only one course of action to take.

  I need to crawl on my knees and beg for his cock.

  My stomach gives a weightless little flip that isn’t entirely pleasant. Humiliation isn’t my kink, but I have a feeling meeting Hook’s terms will be anything but humiliating. And the reward for the little sting to my pride? Worth it. More than worth it.

  It’s official.

  Tonight I’m fucking Hook.

  Chapter 15

  Hook

  Another day wasted with no sign of Peter. I see evidence of him in the reports of my people finding chilly responses from small business owners in the southern portion of the territory. I collect two percent of all profits. Not a huge amount in the grand scheme of things, not with the services I provide. And I sure as shit do provide services beyond keeping all the other problematic players out of this area. My people have a problem, they come to me or Nigel, and we ensure it’s handled. Whether it’s an unexpected fire or some issue with inheritance or even that they need some shit moved around and don’t have the employees to handle it.