It stings that she recognizes me as a monster, even if it’s the truth. “Yes.”
I won’t say I wish there was another way. It’s worthless to wish on stars. The only thing that matters is action, and I can’t bring down Peter through legitimate means. I’ve tried. Fuck, I tried. He had too many important people on his payroll, people he ensured looked the other way when it came to both his illegal activities and his abusive treatment of the people under his control. The only thing those assholes respect is power and money, so I ensured I had both when I went to take over paying them to look the other way. It makes me no better than he is, but it’s a burden I’ll have to live with.
I am a monster.
Tink nods. “There’s no way out but through.”
The same conclusion I came to years ago. “Yes.” I have to ask, though. I may want her chained to me in every way I can, but I don’t want Tink broken. That was never the plan. “If you need to go, I’ll find another way.”
She looks at me, really looks at me. “So you’re going to, what, put me on a train and send me out of Carver City? Maybe give me a pat on the ass for the good fucking in the meantime?” She snorts. “Please. We both know that’s not an option.”
“Do we?” Why do I keep asking her this shit? I should take her words at face value, but that’s the fucking problem. I tied her to me, but I want her to want to be there. “I have enough money to get you a fresh start.”
She gives a sad little smile. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Jameson? There is no fresh start for me. Wherever I go, whoever I interact with, I’m still me. I’m still hauling around all the scars from my past.” She presses her fingers to my lips when I start to argue. “I’m staying. Stop wasting time trying to convince me to go and focus all that impressive will of yours on fulfilling your promise to provide me Peter’s head on a platter. The sooner the better.”
She’s still raw, still shaking, but she doesn’t look lost any more. I smile against her fingers. “As my lady commands.”
Chapter 21
Tink
After ten minutes of arguing, Meg finally allows me to see what Peter did to my things. They were stored in one of the rooms off the garage that the club uses for large shipments before they’re organized and sent up to their appropriate destinations.
My belongings are entirely ruined.
I stand in the doorway, conscious of Hook’s comforting warmth at my back, and take it in. Peter—or, more likely, his flunkies—went through the space with a vengeance. My backup sewing machine is in a thousand smashed pieces. My chest gets tight just looking at it. It was the first purchase I made for myself after I saved up from working at the Underworld. The first thing in this world that was truly mine that no one could take away.
Except Peter has done exactly that.
I drag my gaze away, taking in the bolts of fabric. They didn’t bother ripping or cutting them. They simply dumped some kind of chemical all over everything. It looks like Drano; something thick and blue and impossible to clean.
My actual clothes … They set them on fire.
Hook takes my shoulder. “Enough.”
I want to fight him out of the sheer perversity of doing it, but he’s right. Standing here a second longer will only be flogging myself with what I’ve lost. I can’t focus too closely on that. Not if I want to keep moving. “Let’s go home.”
“Tink.” A new voice behind us. I knew he was coming at some point. No way could something like this go down in Hades’s place without him making an appearance.
I take a slow breath and turn to face him. He’s as perfectly put together as ever in his black on black suit. Hercules stands at his shoulder, and a distant part of me is proud to see that the guy is finally taking my fashion advice and dressing in a way that shows off his impressive physique instead of baggy T-shirts and jeans. He’s wearing a suit I designed for him, slate gray over a lighter gray button-up shirt. Hercules opens his mouth, but Hades speaks first. “We will make amends.”
Not this again. “It’s fine.”
“Tink.” He sinks enough warning into my name that I have to fight back a shudder. Hades raises his brows. “You know how this works. Pick a fight with your husband if you need to assuage your bruised pride. It’s not my concern. This insult done on my property is.”
His rebuke stings exactly as much as he meant it to. Worse, he’s right. Hook’s offer to replace everything is surprisingly sweet, no matter the motivation behind it, but I know exactly how much money will be required to balance the scales. Hook has it. No question there. But if I’m really staying, that means looking out for the good of the territory the same way he does. That money can be used in a variety of different ways to benefit the people we protect.