Page 102 of Pawn

“Is King Financial one of these companies?

“Yes.”

“Your husband’s company.”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t these allegations go against your husband? CEO and founder of King Financial?” Dad’s speaking like Mom, her lawyer talk rubbing off.

“Yes.” There’s a deep breath and I’m not sure if it comes from my dad or Damien’s mom until she says, “I’m through being a pawn to Sebastien King.”

Clap! Clap! Clap!

My dad laughs and it brings a tear to my eye. “That’s good for today. Let’s talk again next week.” The tape cuts and the glob in my throat is back again.

He wasn’t cheating. He was working on a story.

With Rosaline, fucking, King.

Damien reaches for the shelf, pulling out a marker and a browned piece of paper.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

“Something tells me these cops have bigger fish to fry.” When he moves his hand, “Listen to Me” sits on top.

“We’re leaving it?”

“The Carsons can deal with this one.” Reaching over to the shelf, there’s another box in his hand. Smaller. Square. “There’s one last thing before we get out of here.”

When he tilts the box forward, my hands fall to the table, gripping it. “Is that—?”

While it looks like a normal weathered watch box, the picture on the front matches the one on my wrist almost too well.

Damien’s body shakes and when I look up at his face, he’s fucking smiling. “Shit …” Now he’s laughing as I snatch the box from his hand. It’s empty inside but either this watch was popular back in the day or …

“Is this my Dad’s?”

“It was my dad’s,” he corrects and yet, he’s still laughing.

“Damien King, there are cops minutes from breaking into here and we just found out our parents were working together like fucking bosses on some shady Eden shit,” I gasp, taking a breath. “And you’re laughing?”

“Wait,” he walks over to me, taking my hands, the box between us. “I gave my dad this watch for his, I dunno, forty-eighth? Bought it with my Little Savers account.”

“Little Savers account?” I repeat, still way too stunned.

“I was always upset that I never saw him wear it but I guess my mom found another purpose.”

“A gift to my dad?”

He shrugs. “I guess for helping her get her story out. Guess she was over being a King and knowing how my dad was, I don’t blame her.”

“Mister King!”

Someone shouts Damien’s name, my head whipping towards the door. “We should go, Damien.”

He’s tapping at his phone when I turn back around before he takes my hand in his again. This time it’s firmer like he’s unlocked something inside him. “Ready to blow this joint?”

“We just cracked the case, King,” I say, searching his eyes, my body vibrating with adrenaline. “My whole life unravelled and got put back together again, and it’s all because I ordered a fucking donut.”

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