Page 1 of Out of the Shadow

King

I WAKE TO MYcell phone ringing in my ear. As I fumble with the device, a photo of Dad flashes in front of my face. Oh, fuck no. My brain, still pickled from my week-long jag in Mexico, isn’t capable of talking with him. I decline the call and drop my hand on top of the plush Austin Horn silk bedding.What a trip.

My phone rings again. Really? What’s his problem? I hit decline again. When he calls a third time, I relent. “Dad. What’s up?”

“Did I wake you? It’s fucking noon.” His famous tenor voice is as irritating as an empty barbell hitting the floor.

I sit up in my bed, pillows scattering to the floor. “Got in late last night. Or, rather, early this morning.” Why do I have to justify my actions to this man? It’s not like he’s been around for his firstborn since…ever.

“From Mexico, I see.”

My eyebrows pull together. “Yes, I was on Max’s yacht off Puerto Vallarta with a bunch of friends.” I pause, searching my barely-functioning brain for something redeeming to say about my hedonistic trip. “Trevor was there.”

A snort soars through the phone. “Yeah, I see that loser right there with you.”

I run my hand through my hair. A kneejerk defense of Trevor is on the tip of my tongue—at least he’s been there for me well, usually—but something else snags my attention. It sounds like Dad’s looking at a picture. “Where are you seeing all these things?”

“The internet has some amazing sites, King.”

I review the events of the past week, but can’t think of anything that would’ve made him this mad. Better bite the bullet. “Like I said, what’s up?”

“What’s up,son, is there’s a photo of you and your good friend Trevor onThe Gossip.”

I shrug. “That’s nothing new. The papps love to follow us around and put us on their site. Harmless.”

“Oh, really? The photo I’m looking at is not harmless. At all.”

Something in his voice makes me nervous. My father has been pissed at quite a few of my many antics, but this tone—resignation?—is one I’ve never heard in all my thirty-three years. What the hell did the papps catch this time? I shake my head and put the phone on speaker so I can loadThe Gossip.

Crap. It better not be…

The site loads. In huge letters, the headline screams—“SNOW IN MEXICO!” Below the damming photo, the caption reads, “Socialite King Hunte and Los Angeles real estate agent Trevor Stern snapped doing lines of cocaine on the beaches of Puerto Vallarta with heiress twins Lacey and London Toalle.” The photo is too crystal-clear for me to attempt denying it.

“Fuck.”

“You can say that again.” Heavy breathing comes over my phone. I picture my father’s hands, calloused from decades of playing guitar, turning white as he grips the arm of his favorite chair. “King, you know my stance on drugs.”

I can’t deny it. Hunte—my father’s uber-successful band—famously lost their first drummer to an overdose when I was an infant. No one in the band touched drugs again. Dad wasn’t around much when I was growing up, but he instilled that lesson in me many, many,manytimes.

“Dad, it’s not what it looks like.” Embarrassingly, my voice cracks.

“Oh, really? From where I’m sitting, it looks like you and Trevor were snorting cocaine with two barely-dressed women. They didn’t need to bother with the caption. The photo shows it all.”

“Listen, I can explain—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses any more. You’re a fucking adult. I’ve let this go on for far too long.”

What is he talking about? Let what go on? This is the first time I’ve been caught doing drugs, and it’s not like it happens often. I only partake occasionally, always with Trevor. Maybe once or so every few months.

“Dad. I don’t make a habit of doing drugs. I don’t—”

“King. I love you. But Sara has told me for years—”

At the mention of my stepmother, my stomach tightens and I cut him off. “What doesshehave to do with anything?” She’s such a ballbuster. How she ever ensnared my father, I’ll never understand. Well, he did knock her up, but it’s not like having me was motivation enough for him to stay married to my mother. Not that she’s a prize, either. However, I’ve been waiting for him to see the light for twenty-five years now, and it’s pretty obvious he’s never going to dump wife number two.

My father ignores me and plows ahead. “You dropped out of college. Fine. I get that schooling isn’t for everyone. But what, exactly, have you done with your life except live off your trust fund and party all over the world? Nothing. That’s what you’ve done.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” I say on reflex. “I’ve done a lot of positive things.”

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