Page 59 of Slay King

The man who had come to retrieve me walked back inside, and he gave me a smile that didn’t look calculating. I felt somewhat relieved to see him even if he was the enemy. He wasn’t the one who had threatened me.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he said, walking over and taking the plate that sat in front of me. “I’ll just give you some of everything. You can eat whatever you prefer.”

I said nothing as he did just that, then placed the overflowing plate back in front of me before walking to the other side of the table and taking a plate to fill for himself.

“The pastries are made fresh by our pastry chef. He trained in France for five years. They’re delicious,” he told me before taking three different ones from the tiered tray.

“What will he do to me if they don’t give him the money he wants?” I asked, needing to plan. Be prepared.

He glanced up at me, then looked back down at one of the trays that sat over a small flame. “He won’t do anything. One of our men will.”

That didn’t answer anything.

“And that would be?”

With a sigh, he straightened back up from leaning over the table. “Beatings, to start. They’ll be filmed, and the video will be sent to King Salazar to see what kind of reaction we get. Falcon doesn’t want to hurt you. He wants our money. That is all. Once he gets it, you’ll be free to go.”

I was finding that too easy. If it was this easy, wouldn’t Blaise have already given them the money? They had it. Maeme said that I was wealthy. Why not give them that money?

“I have money,” I blurted out. “What if I have them give you mine?”

He sat down across from me. “We don’t want your money. We want ours.”

“But you’ll beat me to get it.”

He tilted his head to the side slightly with a sigh. “Do you not think you’re important enough for them to retrieve?”

Yes. I thought so. Maeme would want me back. King would too. Even if he didn’t love me, he cared about me. We were friends first. There was something he felt for me.

“I think …” I said, then paused, unsure how much truth they should have. Telling them I didn’t know if they would might have them speeding up the beating portion. I couldn’t let them hit me. “They will want me.”

That would buy me time.

He smirked. “I agree. If not, he’s an idiot.” Then, he held up a pastry and winked before taking a bite.

I looked down at the food in front of me, and my stomach rolled. There was no appetite. I was almost positive eating would send me running for the toilet. But then I also had someone else to think about. Someone who needed to be nourished. This was no longer about me. It never would be again.

I picked up my fork and cut off a small piece of a pastry with raspberries in some kind of cream decorating the top.

“Do they know where I am?” I asked him.

“They are about to know. Falcon wanted to speak with you before he made his next move.”

King would save me. I had to believe that.

• Twenty-Four •

This is fucking Gage’s fault!

King

“Sit down, goddammit!” my father shouted as I stood up from the bed.

I glared at him, reaching for the wall to steady myself. “I need crutches and my fucking gun,” I snarled angrily.

The motherfucker had shot me. I was going to kill him. But first, I had to find Rumor. The tight grip in my chest was more painful than the wound in my leg. I could handle any physical pain, but the sheer agony that clenched me at the thought of Rumor being hurt, taken from me, how scared she was—FUCK!

“You just had a bullet removed. SIT DOWN!” my father demanded as he stalked from across the room toward me.

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