Page 118 of Lace 'em Up

“She’s not marrying that asshole,” King mutters.

Yup. Asshole.

Stacy stills, scary flaring, growing into something…

That has me stepping a little closer to King.

Without looking at me, without taking his eyes off the viper-like chaos in front of me, he clocks my body nearing, and tucks me more tightly against his side.

God, I love this man.

The thought ricochets through my brain in a thousand directions—all of them violent and tearing and frightening and…

Beautiful.

A beautiful sort of violence.

Because it shatters through the veneer of what I had with Phillip, what I thought I deserved.

Because it pierces through the cloud of my childhood sweeping in like a tornado, threatening to destroy everything I’ve tried to build since moving out.

Because…

King is different and he makes me feel different and?—

It far eclipses anything—anything—I felt for Phillip.

And…it’s fake.

“I thought you weren’t interested in settling down.”

Heart pounding, mind still reeling from that beautiful violence tearing through me, I look back at my stepsister.

“I’m not,” King says. “Because what I have with Rory is so much more than that.”

Jaws fall open—and not just Cathy, Stacy, and Dessie’s.

Mine is on the pavement at his declaration.

Which means it’s easy for him to open the passenger door and coax me into the car.

Easy for him to get in himself, to start up the engine, and pull out of the spot.

What I have with Rory is so much more.

But…it’s fake.

It’s all fake.

Isn’t it?

Thirty-Three

King

The silence in the car is disturbed by my phone ringing.

I start to reach to decline it on the screen, but Rory stills my hand. “It’s your mom,” she says softly, those green eyes unfathomable. “You should always take a call from your mom.”

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