Page 28 of Slay King

“He’s the one who pulled the gun,” Sebastian said, his tone hard. “And over a fucking hoodie. She was cold.”

“And you didn’t think to let her go get one of mine?” King asked as I pulled the one I was wearing over my head and dropped it onto the sofa. My eyes going back to King.

“We—we—were go-ing outside,” I stammered, willing him to look at me and put his gun away. Both of them.

“Were you now?” King asked, his eyes narrowing as he continued to point his gun at Sebastian.

“Fuck this,” Storm snarled, standing up. “I stayed here tonight so this shit wouldn’t happen. And you’re doing it anyway?”

“He put his goddamn hoodie on her,” King growled.

“Technically, she put it on herself,” Sebastian replied.

“King,” I said, willing him to look at me. “Please stop.”

His eyes cut toward me then, and I pleaded with him silently. We stood there like that for several moments before he seemed to calm and lower his gun. I put a hand on my stomach, not sure if I was going to throw up or not. Nausea had suddenly come over me, and I wanted to sit back down, but I didn’t dare do it.

He put his gun back in the holster under his jacket, then held out a hand to me. “Come here.”

My legs felt wobbly as I made my way over to him, checking to be sure Sebastian had also put away his gun. Relieved to see he was no longer pointing it at King, I tried to calm my racing heart as I went to him.

When I was close enough, he grabbed my hand and pulled me to him, then buried his nose in my hair for a second before tucking me under his arm. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t want any more guns or shouting. I went willingly, although the more I thought about what had happened, the angrier I got. He had pointed his pistol at Sebastian over a hoodie? That wasn’t sane. It was more like the definition for unstable and unhinged.

None of them said anything more to each other as we left and walked to the stairs, then to King’s bedroom. Once inside, he slammed the door with more force than necessary, causing me to jump. I spun around and watched him stalk toward me, which had me backing up away from him until the back of my legs hit the bed. He reminded me of a lion coming after its prey.

“You get cold, sweets, I got a closet full of fucking clothes you can put on.”

I nodded, swallowing nervously.

He reached me then, and I held my breath as he ran a hand down my arm.

“No other man’s clothing touches this body. Do you understand?”

I didn’t, but I nodded anyway. It was just a hoodie. Fabric. It had smelled like laundry detergent. I hadn’t even known it was Sebastian’s. I’d thought he’d just grabbed the first thing he saw.

“You … you … held a gun on him,” I said, fighting the urge to cry or hit him. I was torn between being terrified or pissed off.

He nodded his head once as he ran his knuckles over my collarbone. “Yeah. I should have shot him in the leg to make a point.”

I shook my head. “No. It was a hoodie. You don’t shoot people over clothing.” Words I never thought I’d have to say to someone.

His eyes met mine. “He knew better. Trust me.”

I disagreed with him, but I didn’t say so.

“I don’t like guns,” I told him.

He smirked and ran his hand through my curls. “Yeah, but you like me, and I come with a few.”

I placed both hands on his chest and tried to move him back. I wanted some personal space. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but then my eyes dropped to the collar of his shirt, and I froze.

Red lipstick was on the starched white cotton. I didn’t own red lipstick, and I hadn’t been kissing his neck tonight. I shoved hard, and although he didn’t move, I felt him tense. His eyes narrowed.

“Get away from me,” I bit out.

Fury, pain, betrayal all began to twist in my chest. He’d come in here and held a gun on Sebastian over a piece of clothing, yet he had lipstick on his shirt

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