Page 52 of Slay King

“Keep it that way,” Sebastian said, then shifted his attention to the bartender. “Water and my scotch.”

“Or! Where’s my drink?” Wells called out from the sofa.

“I’m being beckoned,” Oriel said with a shake of his head and a smile that was meant to hide the annoyance, but I didn’t miss it.

As he walked off, carrying a glass of whiskey that he had taken from the bar, a glass of ice water was placed in front of me.

Sebastian slid it over. “There you go.”

I took it, then turned to see the screen while he waited for his drink. There was a sea of colorful hats as the camera scanned the crowd. Some people were talking about the upcoming race, but it was hard to hear over the noise in the room. I was just lifting the glass to my mouth when Scotlin’s face appeared with a floppy white hat over her perfectly styled hair. She was laughing, and I could hear her name being said just as she tilted her head back. That was when I saw him.

King. Beside her. Looking down at her with a smile.

She was so close that his hand had to be around her back. Like he did with me. My breath caught in my chest as I watched the next three seconds that they showed him. The room went up in a roar at his image on-screen, but it all seemed so far away. There was a whooshing in my ears. When the horses replaced them on the screen, I was still unable to move. I sucked in air. My lungs had started to burn.

“She’s just a job,” Sebastian said near my ear.

I nodded, wanting to act like I believed that. But she’d been so close to him. They’d looked happy. Like they fit. Two beautiful people in a world that I didn’t belong in. I swallowed hard and fought off the urge to run. At least no one was aware of my reaction. Just Sebastian. The others were drinking, enjoying themselves. I wasn’t their concern.

Could I do this? Setting my glass back down before I dropped it, I clasped my hands in front of me so that Sebastian didn’t see them trembling. Falling apart right now was unacceptable. I had to act fine. Convince Sebastian I was okay too.

“Rumor,” he said, leaning down close to me, “he wants you. I swear.”

I nodded, but couldn’t force a smile. Not when my chest wanted to crack open. The sight of them was going to haunt me. He hadn’t called me but once. Seeing him with her … I wasn’t stupid.

I turned my head so that I could look into Sebastian’s eyes. Read his answer even if he didn’t tell it to me. “Are they sharing a hotel room?” I asked him.

There it was. The barest flicker in his irises that told me the truth.

“Never mind,” I replied. “Forget I asked.”

I didn’t want to hear him lie to me. I’d had enough lies. I didn’t want to know I’d been told another one.

“He isn’t sharing a bed with her. That I can fucking swear to you.”

No, he couldn’t. No one could. No one knew what happened behind the closed door. She was stunning. Absolutely beautiful. He was a man used to getting what he wanted and when. He liked things I had never given him, and now, I couldn’t. It would be dangerous to our child.

Closing my eyes, I inhaled deeply. I could survive this. I had to.

• Twenty-Two •

You weren’t supposed to fucking shoot him.

King

The Derby had always been a good time. The energy, excitement, thrill of the win. I’d grown up loving it. Yet right now, I fucking hated every minute. Standing here with my hand on Scotlin’s back while she continued to flirt and cling to me. I had to smile. Pretend I enjoyed it. Wanted this. I deserved a goddamn Emmy for this performance.

I just had to get through this party. Pretend like I was celebrating our wins today. Manage another night in that fucking suite that smelled like the overpowering scent of Scotlin’s expensive perfume. Then, I was moving into another room and surviving one more day here.

“I’m getting a drink,” I said, dropping my hand from hers.

She turned to place her hand on my chest. “Oh, would you get me a mint julep?”

“Of course,” I replied, holding my smile. Hoping it looked like one a man gave his fiancée instead of the disgust that I actually felt.

Part of me had started to believe she had set this all up. Made up her own stalker or paid someone to do it. Just to force this. It was ludicrous, but I wanted out, and if I could prove something like that, I’d be free of her.

Getting distance from her, I took long strides toward the bar, needing to get away. Fresh air. Needing … fuck, I needed to bury my face in Rumor’s hair and inhale. Run my nose along the soft skin of her neck and soak in the sweetness. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone to see if she’d responded to my last text. Still nothing. I’d sent her four texts and called every time I got a chance today. Maeme had assured me she was fine, not to worry. But I was about to call her again and make her put Rumor on the phone.

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