Page 52 of Making the King

“Was he a good man?” I ask.

Gray nods. “I think so. I mean,” he gestures to the building we’re leaning against. “No one here is a good person. And my dad was mixed up with Dante. But they don’t kill innocent people.”

“Only buy them and marry them,” I spit before I can stop myself.

Shit! I didn’t mean for that to come out.

Hmm, so maybe Gray isn’t the only one in desperate need of a heart-to-heart. As much as I’m warming up to Rocco, that’s still a sore spot. I’m not trying to rewrite the past, what’s done is done, and a part of me likes that he’s my husband. But I’ve yet to understand it, and maybe that’s something I really need.

“How much do you know about what’s going on here?” Gray asks.

While he throws the butt of his cigarette on the ground and uses his shoe to stub it out, I consider his question. Fact is that I barely know anything, and that’s partly my fault. I haven’t asked any questions.

“That’s a topic for another day,” I say, wanting us to stay on track. “Where’s your mom?”

He barks out another laugh. “Busy turning tricks, spreading her legs for any man who’ll pay her.”

I recognize the bitterness in his tone, and it makes me even more adamant that I need to help him before it becomes a toxin running so deep it infiltrates his bloodstream.

“At least she’s doing it herself and not selling you for her own selfish gain,” I say flippantly. “But tell me something, Gray. Do you think the people here are… I don’t know… good people?”

He rolls his eyes. “I already told you they’re not good people,” he snaps.

Okay, yes, he did say that. But that’s not what I mean, and I explain that. “Are they good to you? Do they take care of you and keep you safe?”

“I’m sixteen, I don’t need anyone to fucking take care of me.”

I arch my brow. “Is that so? Then I ask you again, why do you look homeless instead of taking pride in your appearance?”

“What’s it to you?” Gray sneers. “You’re not my mom.”

His words remind me of my mom’s visit a few days ago. The side of my face throbs as I recall seeing Mateo earlier that evening as well.

Both of them threatened me, but it’s my mom’s threat that makes me shudder. I don’t know how to describe the look in her eyes. It was evil, sure. But it was also so much more. Like she believed every word she spoke.

The woman that came to Rocco’s house is so different from the sniveling, pathetic mess I spared on the church floor three years ago. I didn’t pull the trigger back then, because she wasn’t the bigger evil. And, if I’m honest, I wanted her to live with her mistakes. But that woman wasn’t the same one who came to buy me back.

With a shake of my head, I will my mind to stay on track instead of thinking about my deceitful mom.

I repeat my question to Gray, not looking.

He kicks off the wall and turns toward me, stabbing a finger in my direction. “Because it doesn’t fucking matter,” he roars. “I failed my dad, and you don’t know what that feels like. Rumor has it you willingly pulled the trigger, and someone did that to my dad because of me. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

“No,” I say as I shake my head. “I don’t. But I know what it’s like to be so angry with the world you’d rather burn it down than be in it. And I know what it’s like to make yourself a victim.”

“I am a fucking victim,” he shouts.

Snorting, I throw my hands out to the side. “We’re all fucking victims,” I bite. “We don’t have to act like it. We can become stronger and get to a place where we’re living instead of just surviving.”

I don’t need to know everyone’s story to know my words are true. Whether it’s big or small, we’re all victims of one thing or another.

The door swings open, stopping Gray from saying whatever he was going to, and the bouncer comes back out.

“You two need to move it along,” he says as he attaches the door to the wall so it’s wide open. “I need to get back to my post.”

I look up at the sky that’s darkened with thunder clouds. None of them have broken yet, so I’ll take that as a sign to stay outside for as long as it takes.

With a nod, I drag Gray around to the back entrance where we sit down on the pavement.

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