Page 36 of King

“And what would that be?" All efforts to bite my tongue are now out the window. "Because one minute you’re begging me to fuck you and the next you’re a temperamental child. Is that what happens when you grow up with nannies instead of parents?”

Damien's knuckles turn white and I know I’ve hit a nerve. He’s gripping onto the handle of the umbrella like he wants to break it. “Enjoy your walk Medusa.” He puts his hand on the small of Lea’s back and leads her to the limo pulling up.

When they drive off, the limo gives my new phone a second death. It's hard not to wince as I hear it crunch under the wheel.

Fuck.

At least Willow’s not worried and at least I’m in my Docs, not those uncomfortable flats.

I fish in my backpack for a rubber band and pull my curls on top of my head as the cloud breaks and it begins to pour.

It’s cold, wind going right through me and I couldn’t stop shivering if I tried.

My kilt sticks to my skin like a new layer, drenched from the downpour. My hair too, curls sticking to my head, rain hitting my fresh shave.

Lea is a monster but Damien King is unpredictable. As bad as he's been, I didn't see this coming. How long I’ve been walking on this stretch of tree-lined road is unknown but I'm hoping I make it home before dark. I hear the roar of an engine and there's a lift in my chest.

Sticking out my thumb I turn around, then my heart sinks. Damien’s Lambo shines, headlights blinding my view. Moving my arms across my chest I try not to give him a show as he slows down, passenger window lowering.

Damien tilts his chin towards the door and I hesitate.

This prick wants me to get in his car?

Taking a look around, my shoulders fall. Groaning, I tilt my chin to the clouds. He's the one who started this, but it seems that he's had a change of heart. Besides, do I have any other options?

Pulling on the handle, the door doesn’t open, thunder crackling. Damien’s lips move into a grin. “Call me King.”

“What? No!" I pull on the door again.

“Fine,” he chuckles and my stomach flips. “Say you’ll leave, and I’ll drive you home.”

He’s asking me to give up one of the only privileges I’ve ever had as a foster kid. Why? For his ego. “Fuck that,” the words slip out of my mouth, his smile fading. Without another word, the handle slips from my grip as he skids off.

I call after him but it’s no use, that thing is way too fast.

My head to the sky I let out a frustrated, “Fuck!”

Thunder crackles again, and I spit water from my mouth. If I’m ever going to make it home I’m going to need to pick up the pace. Besides, jogging warms you up, right?

Beeeeep!

Headlights block my view ahead, a black Jaguar coming up the other side. It makes a U-turn before coming up beside me.

“Shit, Jo!” Christian’s head appears when the tinted window lowers. “Need a ride?”

Of course, I need a fucking ride. “No, I’m going for a leisurely stroll.” From the sounds of it, I'm still fuming from Damien's bullshit.

He reaches over and the door opens. “Alright, alright, get in, Medusa.” He pauses. “I mean, Jo.”

When I climb in, the smell of leather and cinnamon takes over. Putting my soaking backpack at my feet, Christian ups the heat on the panel between us. He touches another button and there's warmth under my thighs.

“What’re you doing out here?” He reaches into his back seat, four-way flashers still on.

The rain hits the roof of the car like bullets, windshield soaked even with the wipers on max. A bolt brightens up the sky and I take a deep breath, back sinking into his seat. Christian covers me with a warm, fuzzy blanket, waiting for an answer.

Pulling it around me, the look in his green eyes makes my cheeks warm. “Just another day under the King’s wrath.”

“Damien?” His brows furrow, so do mine.

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