Page 62 of Savage Kingdom

It didn’t seem like enough.

When I rounded the corner, I halted. I stayed back, hidden behind some trees, and just watched him. He was gorgeous—the summer to my winter. He sat on a chair on his patio—no shirt and navy blue and white swimming trunks. His tattoos were gloriously displayed. I remember touching them with my fingers, tracing them with the tip of my tongue. Reading the road map of his body and being in awe of his body. His fight against the world was hidden behind his tattoos. An easy smile was on his face as he talked to someone sitting across from him.

There was something lodged in my throat. It felt like a knife cutting me down from the inside out. The woman with him was gorgeous. She was young and carefree, with tan skin with black hair, wearing a tiny bikini while she flirted with him.

He threw her a wink, then got up and went inside the house.

What am I even doing here?

She was more his type than I could ever be. I waited for him to come back to see what he would do with her. He came back with some plates and more wine.

There was something sour on my tongue. My lower lip trembled. I was feeling things I had never felt before. With one last look at them, I turned around. Gideon lived on top of a cliff. I made my way down toward the beach. Maybe at nighttime I could find some peace and think.

When I got there, I forced myself to think of anything other than Gideon, but the only other person who came to mind was my babushka. I sat there just thinking until the sky went black and the stars shined bright, yet I didn’t have an answer to the questions I had.

My back straightened. I felt him behind me before he spoke.

“What are you doing here, Daphne?” He spoke in a harsh voice.

I wasn’t Petal, and somehow that stung.

Slowly, I turned my head to see him. It’s like I loved to torture myself with things I could never have. He was standing a few feet away. He was still shirtless, with his hands in his pockets, and wearing a pair of loafers.

“Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?” I bit out, that vile feeling I had in my tongue now spreading all over my body, making me shake.

“Why do you care?” He took a step toward me, making me feel small since he towered over me, but I refused to move. “You made sure I knew where my place was when you kicked me the fuck out of your bed.” He was now standing at my back like a reaper, ready to end my miserable life. “You want to get fucked? Is that why you’re here? I doubt you care who warms my bed.” Our eyes clashed, his with something that looked a lot like hate. “Let me tell you something, love: it’s not the same woman every night.”

There was no reason for me to feel jealous when I hadn’t been celibate myself. I was a whore. I didn’t sell myself for money, that I had in spades. I traded sex for knowledge—because knowledge was power.

Since there was no point for me being here, I got up and started to walk away, but Gideon was there, stopping me.

“You’re exquisite, love, but you already knew that. Too bad it’s just another weapon at your arsenal. So beautiful yet deadly. You act like you don’t like your beauty, but you exploit it every chance you have.” I flinched at his words. He didn’t care. He kept going. “As soon as you stepped foot in my house, I fucking felt you. That’s how deep you are in my being. When I went inside, I checked the cameras, and imagine my surprise to find you standing there, looking like my every nightmare.” He was breathing heavily. He turned me around so I could face him, his hold on me hard. He didn’t care if I bruised or not. “You fucking haunt me.”

We were both breathing heavily. We affected each other in a way that was unhealthy—unreal. He was my nightmare too, haunting me and following me around like death’s cloak. Except when he was flesh and bone, and he became my protector. There was too much going on inside my head, too much pain inside my chest, my veins filled with lust and hate.

Grief—what I felt was grief. I’d read all about it, that and jealousy. Emotions so strong that could tip you over.Too late for that, I thought bitterly.

“They finally told me where her remains were located,” I whispered, as I closed my eyes, or else I would lose it.

The hold Gideon had on me loosened a bit. Taking this as a good sign, I kept going with the word vomit.

“Matriarchy was how my family worked. My father took my mother’s last name since hers held power. As it was the way with my grandmother and her mother before her. My babushka raised me. She was the only real mother I had. Mine was infatuated with my father to the point he made her weak.” My throat clogged; it was physically painful to let him in. “Our family were founding members of Sekten. Something that was supposed to stop corrupt governments to be the voice of the people, but somehow along the way, the Sekt lost their way. Part of the disease was my father. After my eighth birthday…” My breath was rising and falling, but that’s when I noticed I was pressed to Gideon’s chest. He held me with one hand while the other played with my hair.

“Shhh, Petal, you don’t have to tell me about that,” he whispered against my hair.

He was wrong. He needed to know part of why it would never work between us. He had no worries, and I carried an empire on my shoulders.

“My grandmother found out two years after what my father had done to me. She confronted my mother, but my babushka was not the fighter she once had been. She lived a harsh life. She didn’t deserve anything my mother did. She was a spineless woman who forgot where she hailed from and let my father do with her as he pleased.”

I gripped Gideon’s shirt while angry tears fell. He let me, not interrupting me and letting me get it out of my chest. “I think my grandmother knew that she would die. She came to my room the night before, she told me she loved me, and…and I couldn’t say it back.” I cried. “She said I was the best thing that ever happened to her. We aren’t shown love at the Sekt. Empathy, everything that makes you human, is a weakness that gets beaten out of you… She said she didn’t know what pure love was until she helped raise me…” I stopped talking because I wanted to sob, but I held it together. I could not allow myself to break down completely.

“My babushka didn’t love the man who helped her father a child. It was just a means to an end to keep the line going. My mother… she was difficult—evil. For her, the sun set and rose with my father; he could do no wrong in her eyes. I think she latched to the first thing that showed her affection other than my babushka.”

“You’re lucky to have her memory. I don’t even remember my parents.” Gideon kissed the top of my head.

I allowed myself a weakness and wrapped my arms around him.

“Someone left me a note and when I got to the coordinates, I dug. When I found the bones I just knew.”

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