Page 66 of Slay King

“You know?”

Was that why he had come? Because I was pregnant? Had Maeme told him so he would come get me? Had it taken that to make him care? All my fears and insecurities came rushing back.

“Yeah, sweets, I know,” he replied, his expression softening.

He started to lower his mouth to mine, and I placed a hand on his chest and shook my head to stop him.

“I just threw up,” I told him, covering my mouth, realizing my breath had to be horrid.

His brows drew together. “Pregnancy?” he asked.

“I saw some things.”

A stricken expression came over his face. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

He turned then, and I saw him wince. His leg. I’d forgotten. I wrapped my arms around him as if I could hold him up.

A small smile tugged at his lips. “My crutches.”

I let him go, then bent down to get them both, handing them to him, hating seeing him like this. “How did you break your leg?” I asked as he walked with me back toward a black SUV with a man standing outside of it, leaning on the hood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching us.

“Shot. Not broken,” he replied.

I stopped. “Shot?” I asked, horrified.

He paused and looked at me. “I’m fine, sweets. It’ll heal faster than a damn break.”

“Who shot you?”

He scowled then and glanced at the man who was no longer in front of the SUV, but opening the back door.

When King looked back at me, he sighed. “Gage.”

I frowned. Why would Gage have shot him? Weren’t they on the same team or whatever?

“Let’s get in the Escalade,” he said. “Cleanup is about to be here.”

They had a cleanup crew for this kind of thing?

I followed him to the vehicle and let him get inside first wanting to help him if needed. Then I climbed inside closing the door behind us. The other man was now in the driver’s seat.

He turned his head to look at me. “Nice to meet you, Rumor. I’m Wilder Jones.”

I managed a smile even though I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Gage had shot him. “It’s nice to meet you too,” I replied.

“Come here,” King said to me as he stretched his arm out on the back of the seat.

“Will I hurt you?” I asked, looking down at his leg.

“No, sweets,” he assured me.

I scooted back, and his arm came around me to pull me so close that my head was resting on his chest. He kissed the top of it.

Wilder began to drive away as I lay there, letting the relief completely sink in. I was with King. We were both alive. I closed my eyes, inhaling his smell. This was where I always wanted to be.

“Why did Gage shoot you?” I asked as I traced patterns on his abs.

“Because he’s a dickhead,” King replied.

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