Her chest begins to rise and fall quickly as we stare into each other's eyes. Her bottom lip trembles and I feel my hand start to shake.

“Answer me,” I demand. “Did you, Darling?”

She jolts at the authority in my tone, but still doesn’t say a word. I throw her drink to the side and the glass instantly shatters as it hits the wooden floor. Shooting mine back quickly, I throw it just the same and take two large strides to the bed. I cage her in, one hand on each side of her sinful frame. She tries to back away from me as best she can, but there’s nowhere for her to move. The devil in me fucking delights at the fear that’s shinning bright in her eyes and I smile.

“Where is Peter?” she whispers finally, her eyes searching mine as her breath feathers against my lips.

Her smell consumes me. Coconut. Vanilla. Mixed with the rum on my breath it’s intoxicating.

Maybe I will fuck her. Make her see. Make her feel. All the Pain. The Misery. The brutal blow of rejection that I felt when she left me, married him, grew up and had her twins.

It could be fun, making her embrace the regret she swears she never felt. Maybe, I will use her the only way I’ve grown to know how to use any woman since she’s been gone. Only problem is, I could never deny her. Not my Wendy. A fact I’m beginning to realize never changed as my resolve crumbles and the urge to hold her tight roars to life while I continue to look her in the eye.

Her eyes plead, begging with me to be able to see the boy she once knew. But it’s no fucking use.

“Please,” she whimpers again. “Where’s Peter?”

“Dead,” I whisper, then smile as a shiver courses through her body.

“I don’t believe you,” she sits up straight and blinks away tears, attempting to seem stronger than she really is.

I cock my head to the side and study her. In one tiny heartbeat I could take her, any fucking way I like, and there is no way she could stop me. She used to like that, I remember. Even as her precious fucking Peter, she always preferred the way the darkness I kept buried inside fucked her. But what she remembers, the tiny glimpse of the man I was destined to become, is nothing compared to the way I’d take her now. Make her see all the ways she’s been wrong.

“You sure about that?” I hiss as I reluctantly back away and tell myself to stick to my plan. “Well, you should know, Darling. After all, you’re the one who fucking killed him.”