Page 49 of Slay King

“The reading is fine. I’ll go out for a walk today.”

“Don’t go alone,” he urged.

I was sure walking back on Maeme’s property or over at the Shephard Ranch was fine, but I agreed anyway. No need to make him worry. He had enough to deal with right now.

“We’re gonna be late,” Scotlin called out, causing me to tense up.

Were they in the same room?

“I’m sorry, sweets,” he said with a sigh. “I gotta go.”

I wanted to ask him if they were in a hotel room together. Where were they going? All the questions he wasn’t voluntarily telling me made me fear I already knew the answers.

“Okay,” I said.

“Talk soon,” he replied.

I sat there, holding the phone as he ended the call, closing my eyes and taking several breaths, wishing it didn’t hurt so bad. The words I love you had been right there on the tip of my tongue. Ready to fall right out if he hadn’t hung up.

Dropping the phone to my lap, I covered my face and let out a deep breath, then forced myself to stand up. It was after ten, and Maeme had been up for hours at this point. I was surprised I had slept this late. The wave of nausea that came over me had me pausing, and I let it ease up before I continued onto the bathroom.

I glared at the toothbrush as I walked by it. Although it was a necessary item, I feared that using it would send me to the toilet again. Luckily, I made it through getting dressed and cleaning my teeth carefully without vomiting. The nausea was there, but it was manageable.

The house was bright and cheery, as always, when I walked down the stairs. My eyes went to the windows, and I thought about the man who had been killed out there last night.

Was there blood on the ground? Would the police come? What about the people who would be looking for the men?

I was lost in my own thoughts as I walked into the kitchen. Storm was sitting at the bar with a plate of food in front of him. His gaze shifted from his phone to me. “Morning,” he said, setting his phone down and reaching for the mug beside him.

“Good morning,” I replied. “You’re not going to Kentucky?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Not this year. I’m here with Thatch and Wells.”

I glanced at the coffeepot, then decided I’d better stick to juice and went over to the fridge.

“Maeme left you a plate of food,” he told me.

Turning back to him, I frowned. “Where is Maeme?”

“She had to tend to some business,” he said. “She’ll be back shortly.”

I took out the orange juice, then closed the door before going to get myself a glass.

“You seem to be handling last night well,” he said.

I shrugged, not sure that was the case. When I turned back with my glass and filled it, I looked back at Storm. “What happened to that other man? The one Thatcher took.”

“Dead. He told us what we needed to know, and then Thatch slit his throat.”

I stared down at my orange juice as that sank in. He had said it as if it were no big deal. This would never be normal for me. How could it? That was someone’s life they had ended.

“I spoke to King this morning. He called, but … but I don’t think he knew about it. Last night.”

Storm raised an eyebrow. “You think he’d stay away if he knew? Fucker has a death wish where you’re concerned. He talked back to the boss as if his life was of no concern when it came to you. He’d tell them all to go fuck themselves and come running back here. Can’t tell him. At least if you want him to live.”

Blaise Hughes’s face flashed in my mind. He’d been terrifying. Beautiful but clearly powerful and ruthless. I didn’t want to think about King upsetting that man. My stomach knotted up.

“I see,” I said because I did. I saw very clearly. We had to keep King there, doing what he was told.

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