Page 51 of Slay King

“Yeah. We have a horse in every race. If not us, then other branches of the family. The Hughes—Blaise, he has the one who is running in the actual Kentucky Derby race. We all have some racing against each other in the other races. No one in the States has a horse that can beat Blaise’s this year. There is no point in even trying.”

I didn’t care about Blaise Hughes, but I listened because this was King’s life. I wanted to understand all of it. This was important to him and the family. He had never taken the time to explain any of it, and I wondered if that was because he saw me as temporary. My throat burned as I swallowed. That thought didn’t sit well.

“We’ve got a bartender working tonight. You’re gonna need to try one of the mint juleps,” he told me as the doors opened back up and we stepped out onto a floor I hadn’t been to.

I shook my head. “I don’t feel like drinking anything with alcohol. Water is fine,” I replied, hoping he would let that go.

He looked disappointed. “You sure? The females are all raving about them.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“Go order one if you change your mind or just let me know.”

“I will,” I assured him.

The noise was slightly muffled by the two heavy wooden doors ahead of us, but not by much. Laughter and cheering filtered through. It sounded like a lot of people, not a small gathering. Sebastian stepped in front of me and opened the door on the left, then stepped back, waving a hand for me to go inside.

The chandelier that hung from the ceiling of the massive room made me think that this was normally a ballroom. Although right now, there was a wall covered in a screen with the happenings at the Derby displayed on it. Sofas, cushy chairs, a full bar, and tables full of food sat to the right of the space, and an ice sculpture of a racehorse sat in the center of it all.

There was so much to take in, and I felt as if I needed a moment. When my gaze landed on a topless woman who had on a wide-brimmed hot-pink hat, I sucked in a breath.

Sebastian moved up beside me. “I probably should have mentioned that. Clothing optional.”

I didn’t move. Was he joking? I swung my eyes back to him in shock.

He grinned and lifted an eyebrow. “Does that really surprise you?”

I nodded slowly. Yes, it did. This wasn’t the lounge room in the stables. It was a … a ballroom they had transformed into something else.

“I, uh, I’m not taking off my shirt or any clothing.”

His smile grew. “Thank fuck. We’d all end up with a bullet in us if you did.”

He placed a hand on my lower back in the exact spot King always touched. I almost recoiled and had to force myself not to react rudely. He didn’t mean anything by it.

“Storm and Thatch are here. So is Wells. After the other night, Dad wanted all of us here that could be, so he sent me home,” he explained. “You saw how well Maeme handles things, but it doesn’t mean that Ronan wants her to. Well, any of them really. They much prefer that she not have to get her hands dirty.”

Did King know now? He hadn’t called and talked to me about it. Was that even something he thought he needed to discuss with me? No, I was doing it again. I was letting my insecurities get the best of me. King was being kept from what had happened to protect him. He’d come back if he knew, and right now, Scotlin was his job. Not me.

A guy with pale blond hair that hung straight to his shoulders took a beer from the bar, then turned, his eyes locking on me, and he smiled. The way he held himself told me he thought more about his appearance than he should. He was attractive enough, but he was maybe five foot ten, and his brown eyes weren’t anything special. They seemed to lack something.

“Come on,” Sebastian said, leaning closer to me. “I’ll get you a water.” Then, he pointed toward the elaborate spread of food. “If you’re hungry, help yourself. The lobster and shrimp were fresh caught and flown in this morning.”

I nodded but followed behind him, unable not to watch as the topless woman with the pink hat grabbed a fancy glass from the table full of shrimp that looked like it had already been peeled. She stuck one in her mouth, then turned around to strut back over to where Thatcher was sitting with another topless female on his lap. Was he with both of them?

“I wondered where you had run off to,” the blond guy said, drawing my gaze from the woman back to him. “You always did have excellent taste.”

Sebastian shook his head. “Not mine. But off-limits,” he informed him, then looked at me. “Rumor, this is Oriel. He is one of our newest trainers down at the stables. He’s also a friend of Wells from his college days.”

The blond guy leaned against the bar, smiling appreciatively at me. “It’s nice to meet you, Rumor.”

I smiled, not sure what I was supposed to say or even if I should say anything.

“She’s King’s,” Sebastian said firmly.

This didn’t seem to affect Oriel.

He shrugged. “I’m just being friendly.”

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