Page 63 of King

“Where are you?”

“Don’t keep me waiting, Rowland.”

I continue to ignore every one.

“I mean, I get why you didn’t tell us.” Allie’s hand is on my shoulder while I knock back my drink. Thank fuck for Nate’s fake ID. “But you can trust us.”

We’re at our lunch spot and this time we’ve ordered some pick-me-ups. I don’t mean coffee.

“Lord knows I would’ve fucked King if I had the chance.” Nate ordered a round of Mint Juleps. He also ordered an extra-large pizza but I haven't touched any of it.

I filled them in on everything. Most things. I left out the part about our bond over suicidal attempts, or that I killed someone. That’s better saved for another day because today is already too much.

“Well, it looks like I’m paying the price.” I lean my head back against the booth. Unable to eat, I'm getting a taste of what it's like to be a King. Drunk at lunch.

“I mean, we didn’t think we needed to say to stay away from King,” Allie says. “Considering recent events.”

“And you won’t have to.” I pull her drink closer to my side of the table. “I’ve learned my lesson.”

My evening shift at MOCHA is a hard one.

I’m getting used to my duties and the large menu but the whole place reminds me of Damien. I can't even look at the counter without hearing his grunts blending with my moans. The fact that my legs are still sore only adds insult to injury.

Not as much insult as when Damien comes strutting in. Lea isn’t with him but I don’t care. Don’t care when he comes right up to the counter. Don’t care when he demands we talk. I just go about my shift.

I now know what happens when you sleep with the devil. And I have bigger things to worry about than Damien King's little games. Sure he throws a fit when I ignore him, knocking over the tea display and ordering me to fix it. Even then, I don’t so much as look his way.

I’m exhausted by the time I get home.

Hopping in the shower, I try to erase the events of the day and the minute my head hits the pillow I drift off to sleep.

Damien’s voice is in my head. In my dreams. And when a gust of cold air stirs me awake, his voice is there with it, “Morning, Medusa.”

I blink, opening my eyes, trying to figure out if I’m hallucinating or not.

Wait, am I still dreaming?

“D-Damien?” When I move to sit up, something pulls on my wrists. Looking to my left and my right, they’re tied to the post of my bed. “Wh-What the fuck?” I pull and pull but it only makes the fabric tighten on my wrist.

“Can’t seem to get you in the same room,” he says. “So I had to resort to other measures.”

Nineteen

“I know your sister is with Jordan so don’t worry, no one will hear you if you scream.”

“Damien, what the fuck?” I don't give him the satisfaction of my struggle. I’m much too tired. “This is crazy! Untie me!” I’m trying to keep my voice down as much as I can.

I don’t know why. He’s the one breaking and entering.

He leans against the window in a pair of crisp joggers and a white tee under his jacket. Like he's meant to be here.

“I came here to tell you I didn’t set that up." He twirls that coin between his knuckles. "But if you rather give me your sass…”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” I pull at the restraints, my hair falling in front of my face but I can't fix it. “You think I didn’t see that little smirk you had on your face when your fellow King stormed out?”

Damien gives me that same smirk and if I could, I’d smack it right off his face. “Guess he learned you’re mine.”

"I don't belong to you."

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