Page 41 of Making the King

“Dammit, woman. Just fucking tell me what he said.”

Turning in her chair to face me, she shoots me a glare. “Why? Why must you know everything?”

“Because I’m your fucking husband.”

Her lips thin. “Not a good enough reason.” She turns back to face the bar right as Sasha places the ice pack on the counter.

“This should help.” She offers Cara, giving her a soft smile before retreating, and Cara picks up the ice pack and the thin towel and gently presses it to her cheek and jaw.

“Look, I’m trying here,” I tell her, sitting my ass in the seat next to her. “And the fact that you keep speaking in Spanish to me, doesn’t seem very fucking fair because I don’t understand it.”

“I wasn’t the one who spoke Spanish that time.” She points out, and I grit my teeth.

“I’m just trying to understand you. He said something that made you grin, and I want to know what it fucking was.” She shrugs, even as Tex speaks.

“He said, my little savage.”

My gaze darts to Tex, who grins past his mustache before shrugging and I grumble.

“Why the fuck does everyone but me know Spanish?”

Cara rolls her eyes. “I think the real question is, why didn’t you learn Spanish at school? In prison, I was told it’s an option for most schools that offer learning a foreign language.”

My mouth goes dry as I feel the familiarity of my uneducated past slam into me, making me feel like the dumb street kid I was ten years ago.

Without meaning to, I shoot Cara a glare, but try to hide any other response I have to it by facing the bar and knocking the counter.

Tex gets to work pouring me a whiskey on the rocks, and my eyes catch Cara’s reflection in the mirror behind the bar as she looks at me, a puzzled frown tugging at her brows.

Shit. She noticed my reaction.

I hadn’t meant for that to happen. It’s not something I’ve fucking given a shit about for years, but for some reason, now with Cara in the picture, I feel like my past will just show her how fucking unworthy I am to declare her as mine.

“Rocco?” Cara asks quietly, but Cain fucking saves the day, leaping in to burst our bubble with his larger-than-life energy.

“Tell me Mrs. King. Who taught you how to fight like that?”

My brows lift with interest, and I turn to see Cara’s attention on Cain now.

“Prison. There’s a lot of free time.”

Cain nods. “I bet you ruled that place. Cara the Queen.” He holds his hands up like he’s framing a sign that has the words spelled out in lights.

Cara giggles.

Fuck, I love hearing that.

“Mr. King. Our fair ruler called me back.” Cain bows like he’s talking to fucking royalty. I wonder what pills he pops to live in the delusional world he lives in. Maybe I should ask him for some?

“And?” I ask, remembering back to the conversation I was having with Cain in the office before Cara’s twin decided to show up.

“No location found as of yet, but Dante has people working on it. They are trying to track the most recent visitor as we speak.”

I nod, ignoring Cara’s curious eyes as she looks between us and tries to piece the information together.

I’d asked Cain to find out if Dante’s sources had a lead on Cara’s mom’s location yet. After knowing it was her brother that came to taunt her at my house last night, or should I say, our house, I knew her mom mustn’t have been too far away, but so far, she’s been a ghost ever since she and her evil son got away after our wedding. I was hoping since Mateo showed up that perhaps they could get a new lead, and hopefully now with what I decipher from Cain, they will since they must be following Mateo after leaving here.

“Now who’s keeping secrets,” Cara mutters and I bite back a smirk.

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