Page 59 of King of Pain

But suddenly it’s clear. “Do people think they killed you? Are Vincent and Vigo on the run? Is Mason afraid they’re joining Gorilla to come after us?” Fear stiffens all my muscles.

“They’re in jail.”

I blink several times, trying to clear away my confusion. “But if they’re in jail, why haven’t we gone back?” But even as I ask, I know. They’re in jail for murder. Luke can’t go back.

He’s here playing house with me, interrupting my entire life, because it’s convenient for him.

Bile rises from my stomach, up my esophagus, as my hand covers my mouth.

Did he even mean his offer to go to New York with me? I gasp in a breath, trying to clear my spinning head, as I push up from the table.

He stands too, reaching for me, but I jerk away from him, spinning and stomping into the living room.

I’m only in a T-shirt. I’m not even wearing underwear, but I grab the truck keys and the phone, sprinting out the door and down the steps.

My feet are bare, and tears are blurring my eyes, but I hear the squeak of the screen door as Luke comes out on the porch too. “Kate. Wait.”

“I can’t believe this,” I gasp, as I reach the truck and wrench open the door. “I missed my internship start date for your family’s business.”

I point an angry finger at him. “I helped you that night.”

He slowly walks down the porch. “I helped you too, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll always help you.”

“Except when you’re totally fucking up my life.”

My God. I am my mother after all. I found a man who selfishly blew up my entire life. I push up into the cab of the truck, jamming the key into the ignition.

“Kate. Sweetheart. You can’t go. You’re not even dressed.”

I can feel the tears welling in my eyes. Not because this is new or unexpected, but because this is old. I’ve done this before. Granted, I was next to my mother as she tossed our shit into theback of some crap car, screaming at some man before we sped away.

Jesus. I press the brake and turn the key, knowing Luke is right. How can I roll up anywhere like this?

But it’s a moot point because nothing happens.

The truck doesn’t turn over. It’s dead.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Luke

I walk upto the open window, leaning against the frame of the door.

Kate has her face against the steering wheel, crying.

I want to touch her so badly, it hurts. “Babe.”

“Don’t call me that.”

She lifts her face, tears staining her cheeks. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that either.” She reaches for the handle of the truck, and I back up so she can get out.

“What do I call you then?”

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