Page 6 of Knight

My poison.

Nancy comes out of the hallway with Branson and his partner, her glasses back on her face. She points towards a set of bathrooms on the other side of the foyer before they disappear into another small hallway. Leaning against the stone wall, I take another gaze around the room. There are more smiles than there should be at an event like this. Perfect, white smiles that match their filthy-rich lives. I’ve only been here a couple of months and I already know what sits behind them. Manipulation. Pride. Secrets. Lies.

Sounds like someone I know.

Glancing at my phone again, there’s not much time before this all begins. The closer we get, the tighter my chest feels, the more the room blurs, the drier my throat becomes.

I know he needs me as much as I need him. So where the fuck is he? Where the fuck has he been? I don’t want to think I’m back to being as alone in this town as I feel. An empty shell to parade around thanks to my sandy skin and “exotic” hair. But that’s exactly how it feels. Left alone in the cold again.

BANG!

My body tenses as the front doors swing open, a gust of cold wind coming with it.

“At last!” Isaac Johnson’s deep theatrical drawl rings through the foyer, everyone turning towards the tall boy. He looks like a Vegas hangover, black suit crumpled as he almost trips over his pointy loafers. He has a sloppy smirk on his face, brown forehead shiny like he escaped a sauna. “Let’s get this party started, baby!”

A girl hangs off his arm, a gold bottle of champagne in her hand. She’s pretty but she stands out more than I do in a dress fit for Saturday night. Pink and tight. Isaac has a black tie around his head, suit jacket hanging off one of his shoulders. My eyes bug out of my face, my body jolting awake when I see who’s on his other side.

Damien King.

The room spins when he stumbles, Isaac gripping his arm. Everyone’s attention is on him. The boy we’re all here for.

It feels like months since I’ve seen him, and while I expected him to be a mess, I didn’t expect this. But damn, even when he looks like an ad for spring break, he still looks like a king. The shades on that chiselled face slip down that Roman nose. It reveals those kaleidoscope eyes that cause more trouble than good.

The foyer turns into a louder mix of whispers and murmurs, my heart booming against my chest. Isaac takes a swig of champagne, while the people around us stare. Some look mortified, others amused. The girls with them don’t care, they’re soaking in the attention under the arms of two Kings. The smell of booze and weed wafts through the room before a rolling chuckle comes from the devil.

“The King is here!” Damien’s voice echoes through the room but it’s not a shout. It’s a stone-cold announcement and it sends a shiver right down to my core.

“Boys …” Nancy approaches them, her body rigid. She glances at the crowd around her, hands out like she’s taming a bear.

That gets another chuckle, one that stirs my stomach. Spin-cycle on max. My whole body buzzes as if it’s coming alive, aware of that fiery presence.

“Come to set—” Damien pauses, wobbling as he shifts his weight. From the way he’s standing, I know what’s coming next. A slur. “Crumbing to smettle for the hunger model?”

Isaac laughs, clearing his throat. “Oh. He means, settle for the younger model.” I catch his wink from here before more whispers erupt.

A smirk settles on Damien’s face. The same smirk that boils my insides. The sweat on his forehead glistens from where I stand and I want to reach out. I want to take him in my arms and pull him away from this but I’m stuck. Frozen. And this time it doesn’t look like I’m getting any warmth from our guest of honour.

The curvy brunette with her dress as tight as Nancy’s smile leans on his shoulder. She giggles at his comment, and when her sparkling nails go through his grown-out strands, the knot in my stomach tightens.

Nancy tries again, pointing in my direction, and it makes me stand tall. Makes me want to run. “Jo’s here.” She reaches forward, placing her long white nails on his shoulder. “And we’d love it if you came to sit with—”

“Get the fuck away from me!” Damien’s voice rings through the foyer, pulling out my heart as his words resound around the room.

Nancy backs away as everyone turns to look at where I’m standing. Including him. My body tenses, my heart beating like a machine gun. His droopy eyes linger on me as he sways, hair flopping in front of his eye. The blue one. Goosebumps rise to the surface of my skin but that gaze seems empty. Like he’s too fucked up to even know where he is and that breaks my heart.

The longer I stare at him, the more the room seems to fade around us. Why can’t I say anything? Why can’t I do something? Anything? It’s like my heart is reaching for him. Screaming for him but the words won’t come out.

The pornstar-wannabe on his side wobbles on her clear thin heels. “You okay, baby?” she asks with a raspy voice. He smirks as the lump in my throat grows. That’s when I realize he doesn’t even have a shirt on. Just a blazer exposing those god-like abs that match that modelesque face. His eyes scan my body from where he stands and I know we’re both fucked to hell but it still makes me warm. Whole.

Some guests around him reach out, trying to steady his stature but he pulls away, curses spitting out his mouth. Even with his eyes sunken in, and his face as pale as flour, Damien King is a hell of a presence.

“Damien.” Cindy Huang’s voice accompanies the sound of the front doors closing behind him. Her family stands beside her like they’re posing for a spread in a wealth magazine. The spawn of Satan included.

Damien grabs the champagne bottle, taking a swig before his new crew of bimbos push around Nancy. They head for the doors to the main room. Isaac opens it, pulling his girl through before Damien stops. He turns around to the crowd, his back against the door as he looks up with those faded, menacing eyes.

“If you all want more of a show,” he says. “We’ll be in the come-fessional,” with a lazy wink, an eye half-closed, he laughs. Croaky. Devilish. “It’s a great day to be alive, everyone!” Turning around, he wobbles, kicking the door hard with his leather boot. “Daddy’s dead!”

Two

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