Page 13 of Lost Girl

“Don’t be so coy now, little Wendy. We’ve done some digging. Evidently, you’ve been around the block a few times.”

“That doesn’t make me a whore.” My cheeks heat with rising indignation. “I’m comfortable with my sexuality and I know what I want.”

“Mmm, yes, a couple dozen dicks comfortable. What’s one more, right?”

I don’t even know what to say to that. Them looking into my history, no matter how invasive, doesn’t surprise me. They knew who I was when they barreled through my window, after all. It’s just...hearing it like this, what I’ve done, while naked and chained to a wall makes me feel lower than I’ve ever felt about it.

About myself.

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again: Societies standards and beliefs are total bullshit. A woman should be able to play on her desires just as much as men should. But right here, in this moment, I’m filled with shame.

Disgust.

Remorse, even.

“That’s besides the point,” she continues at my silence. “I’m sure you’ll tell me they were all a distraction from Peter anyway.”

“They were at first,” I rush to agree, as if that’ll somehow justify my past.

Why I feel the need for such reparation from her, a cold-blooded killer, is beyond me, but here I am, holding her stare like a vise.

Tinksley’s sleek brow arches curiously. “Interesting. So what happened? After a few good cocks you forgot about him?”

I nearly cringe, but manage to simply shake my head instead. “I never forgot about him.”

Hook chokes on a laugh at my reply, reminding me that he’s in the room. Tinksley then stifles a giggle as well, prompting me to clutch my nightie tighter against myself.

“How romantic.” She flattens a hand to her chest, batting her eyelashes in a dreamy fashion. “I’m sure he didn’t forget about you, either. Probably envisioned you while he was busy deflowering me.”

I gulp at the growl rumbling in her tone, at the fire blazing in her eyes. The sheer sense of betrayal and revulsion I see there repaints what Peter did to her in my mind.

He was her brother and he...he fucked her.

My stomach churns once more, blitzing a hot stream of bile up my throat like a rocket. I nearly gag around it, forcing myself to swallow it down.

How could my Peter do something like that?

“Again, that’s besides the point. What I really want to know is, are you as oblivious as you claim?” Her question shakes me out of my own head.

“Oblivious about?”

“What else, Wendy? Peter, duh.”

“What about him?”

“You said you didn’t know, about what happened to him, about whoIwas.”

“I didn’t. I hadn’t a clue until you showed up.” It’s the God's honest truth, too. I didn’t know anything. Seeing Tinksley and Hook standing before my bed, two darkened figures in the night, was one of the most unsettling moments of my life.

I’d been that scared before, but it had been a long time.

“You really expect me to believe that?” Her face contorts in disbelief.

Mine does, too. I can’t control it to save my life. “Um, yes? Because I didn’t.”

“And yet, you welcomed him with open arms. Did you not ask questions?”

“I did. I asked until I turned blue in the face and I’ve told you how he answered.” I’m not sure what else she wants me to say, honestly, but I can sense that, unless my answers start consisting of what she wants to hear, she’s not going to be sated.

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