Page 27 of King

“Ran into Nancy. She’s not down.”

My sister’s eyes move to the window and I realize she knows me all too well. She rolls her eyes. “Amateurs.”

Willow hops off the bed before we’re both looking down at the flower garden from the third-floor window. There’s no ladder in sight so we get the sheets, tying them together. We tie one side to the bathroom door, Willow manning it.

Channelling my inner Lara Croft, I rappel down the side of the house, but not without mistaking the drop, ass landing in the tulips.

My sister whispers from our bedroom window, “You okay?”

I give her a thumbs-up before dusting the dirt off my shorts and making my way around to the front.

Allie’s waiting for me behind the Archibald gate in a Mercedes truck. As soon as the passenger door opens, she gives me a raised eyebrow before leaning over, plucking a branch from my hair.

“Oh, no...” Nate’s in the backseat and when I turn around he’s giving me narrow eyes in a denim blazer. “I have ten minutes to fix this. Get your ass back here. There’s no way we’re rolling up to King’s with you like this.”

I roll my eyes as Nate holds out his hand. Allie laughs, pulling away from the mansion while Nate pulls me into the backseat. He studies me, thumb under his chin before he nods. “Let’s get to it.”

When we pull up to the home of Sebastien and Damien King, I’m floored. It’s twice the size of the Archibald mansion. There's even a fountain in the middle of the driveway the size of a pool. A line of expensive cars circle it but Allie parks by the gate, more wrought iron. This one with a huge ‘K’ in the middle.

Nate gives my chin a gentle push and holds out a compact mirror to me. He’d spent the entire ride poking at my face with makeup brushes, powder and other goop. My lips are a deep red, and he’s cleaned up the eyeliner, making it almost too perfect. He put some sparkling powder on my cheeks and nose, making my entire face look more defined. With the help of some bobby pins, he tamed my hair into a sassy looking faux hawk, fit for my outfit.

I’m impressed. He hasn’t done me up like Lea’s crew, but I look more refined. More Rihanna and less Courtney Love. Before I get a chance to comment he smiles, snapping his compact closed. “No need to thank me.”

Allie hands me a flask as Nate opens the door. “I’m driving but you’ll need this.”

“You read my mind.” I take the flask, tipping the warm contents into my mouth. It’s smoother than what I’m used to, but I’m sure it’ll do the trick.

They both watch me as I hold the flask to my lips like a bottle to a starving baby.

“Jesus, girl.” Nate blinks before I pass the flask to him. I apologize, wiping my chin but he laughs. “There’s more inside.”

“Ready?” Allie asks.

I nod, taking a look at the big front doors. The mansion looks like a miniature White House, its columns all lit up. A set of white steps lead up to the property that looks like it spans acres. For just a father and his son, this place is beyond overkill.

My hand hits the handle. “Ready.”

When my feet hit the pavement I gaze towards the massive home. Students smoke on the front porch and from where we’re standing I can see some more students hanging out on the balconies above.

Allie and Nate link each of my arms as they do in the school hallway. It's like I have a safety barrier sandwiched between these two ERA veterans. Better with them than on my own. When we get to the porch, Nate waves cigarette smoke out of our path before we enter through the door.

A double grand staircase welcomes us into the dimly lit space with a marble floor as white as the walls. A group of students with a large bottle pass by, giggling and staggering. There’s already a bunch of students scattered along the staircase, above it a giant golden chandelier. The entryway alone is bigger than some of the homes I’ve lived in.

The students on the steps all eye us as whispers begin. I’m going to need some more alcohol if I’m going to get through this. I turn to Allie in her overalls and a black tank-top. She looks like a fly-girl from the nineties, her hair in a high ponytail and I’m digging it. “Any idea where they keep the Jack? Or the PBR?"

Nate gives me a look as if he’s disgusted, head pulled back, fingers splayed against his chest.

Allie laughs, “No, but I can find you some scotch in the kitchen.” She links my arm, weaving me through the crowd. Hip-hop blasts through the home, bass rattling abstract paintings. The kitchen is to the right of the entrance and there’s already a small crowd inside the massive space.

Nate waves as we pass a group of Lea’s minions. “Slut,” one mutters.

He drops his head to the side. “Awe, mad that we get more action than you ever will?”

“Yeah probably together!” she snorts.

Allie gives her the finger and keeps pulling me along. When we finally get to the kitchen, there’s a large selection of alcohol on the edge of a long marble island. All bottles I don’t recognize. No JD. There’s a stack of snacks too but it’s not your usual Cheetos and Doritos. It’s a large spread of sliders, gourmet looking pizzas and…is that real caviar?

“If you like Jack Daniels, bourbon is up your alley.” Allie grabs a red cup from the end of the table. She grabs a mostly full bottle, pouring amber liquid into the cup while I look around. Stainless steel appliances look top of the line, but unused. Pristine pots and pans hang from a thick beam in the ceiling. It’s clear that the Kings do zero cooking themselves.

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