Page 50 of Slay King

I took a sip of orange juice and set my glass back on the counter.

“Did you know any of your hus—Churchill’s friends? Business associates?” Storm asked me.

I shrugged. “Not really. I met some. He took me to parties, business affairs, that kind of thing in the beginning. I met people he worked with, but I didn’t really know them.”

Talking about Hill made me remember things that I wanted to forget. King made it easy to do that. He wasn’t here now though.

“When was the last time you went to one of those things? Saw those people?” Storm asked me.

I tensed. It felt as if he was digging for something, and I didn’t know what it was. I had nothing I was keeping from them. They knew more about Churchill than I did.

I shifted my feet uncomfortably. “About four months, I guess. Maybe three.”

It had been hard for him to take me places because of the bruises I had to cover up. The last event where they took their spouses, I was limping and couldn’t walk in heels. He was furious about it, too, even if he was the one who had hurt me. I’d paid for being injured with more abuse.

Storm pointed toward the oven. “Your food is in there, covered in foil.”

I started to make my way over to it.

“You were three when you went into the foster system.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

I nodded. I knew they already had my background. They’d known it before they went after Hill. Before I met them.

“Do you remember anything before then? Your mom? It says you had a mother, but doesn’t mention your father. He’s not even listed on your birth certificate.”

I opened the oven and took out the plate that was warm. I didn’t feel comfortable with this line of questioning. What was it that Storm was wanting to know? Why was I getting questioned all of a sudden?

“I don’t know. My memories are vague,” I said, closing the door to the oven, then turning back around. “Why are you asking?”

Storm was taking a drink of his coffee. He swallowed and studied me as if he was deciding if I was telling the truth. “There’re a lot of holes. Things we don’t know about you.”

I tensed. “Join the club. There are things I don’t know about me too.”

Stone’s lips twitched with an almost smile. “Fair enough. Sorry if I upset you. I’m just curious.”

I took off the foil from my plate, feeling my hands tremble. “I think I’ll take this to the sunroom. If you’ll excuse me,” I replied tightly as I grabbed a fork and walked away from him before he asked me more. About things I didn’t know and had stopped trying to find out a long time ago.

It felt as if he didn’t believe me. Like he thought I was hiding something. It was the first time I’d felt like a real outsider here.

I was ready for Maeme to get back. I didn’t like Storm. I decided I liked him less than Thatcher. At least Thatcher was blunt. Said what he was thinking even if it was harsh.

The next two days, I only received one text from King. It was to apologize for not having time to call, and he’d sent it after I went to bed. When I responded the next morning, it went unanswered, although I could see that he’d read it. That stung, and my imagination was starting to get more creative and painful as the time passed. The more he went without contacting me, the more I seemed to get nauseated. I didn’t know if it was because of the pregnancy or my own fear of him leaving me. Being done with me. Ready to move on.

Sitting at Maeme’s, I was letting my imagination run away from me. Nothing was working as a good enough distraction. So, when Sebastian returned early from Kentucky and came to Maeme’s to get me for a Derby party they were having at his house, I decided to go. Anything to get me out of my own head. My emotions were on overload.

I’d come to the conclusion I was sensitive because of my hormones. Storm hadn’t meant anything by his questioning. He was right. There were gaps in my past that I couldn’t fill in. I had once wanted to so badly. I’d even dreamed that I had a dad out there who wanted me. He’d come for me after finding out I existed and take me home with him. Give me a family. That fantasy had long since died though. It was one from my childhood. Like the one where he would swoop in and rescue me. Beat up the bad men who had been hurting me. In the end, I dealt with it myself. At least I had gotten away.

“I’m glad you came,” Sebastian said to me as we walked toward the elevator doors in his underground garage.

“Thanks for getting me out,” I replied.

I’d needed it more than he realized.

Knowing he’d been with King, I wanted to ask how he was, but I didn’t. That would be admitting he hadn’t called me but once.

“This is a small gathering. If I let too many of this bunch into the main house, Dad would be livid. The ones here are all cleared by security.”

I nodded, stepping into the elevator beside him. “Today is the actual race, correct?” I asked, knowing very little about the Kentucky Derby.

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