Page 110 of Played
He answers me without pause. “I’ll have to pull some strings, but consider it done.”
That he doesn’t tell me what a bad idea it is or try to talk me out of it is one of the many reasons he’s such a good brother. “Thanks, bro.”
“I’ll let you know where and when. And if you need me to come with you?—”
“Thanks, but this is something I have to do on my own,” I say, ready to take this next step toward healing the boy I was and the man I am.
Two daysafter my call to Nathan, I find myself in the detention center visiting room in the Bronx. Kyngston Worthington III hobbles in on crutches and is escorted to the chair across from me. He glares at me through the thick glass, and we both pick up our respective phones. “I was told I was seeing my son,” he says with a snarl, revealing two missing front teeth. A gift from Conor Ryan.
“Nope. King won’t come anywhere near you ever again, you piece of shit. Neither will I after today.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I guess I just wanted to see you.” I smile at him through the glass.
His scowl deepens. “You think I want to see you? You disgusting?—”
“Little pervert.” I finish for him. “Yeah, you’ve used that line before. You should really get yourself some new material.”
He glances at the guard, who shakes his head. Kyngston bares his teeth like a cornered animal. I know Nathan arranged it so he was forced to take this meeting, and he’ll remain here until I say he can leave. “Say your piece so I can go back to my cell,” he demands.
I stare at him, his sparse hair peppered with gray, deep lines around his eyes and creasing his forehead. He’ll likely die in a place much like this, which is no less than he deserves. He has a fresh bruise on his neck, peeking out from beneath his jumpsuit. Too fresh to be a gift from Conor Ryan, yet surprisingly, it givesme no pleasure at all to think of how he got it. “I have no desire to spend any more time in your company than is absolutely necessary. But I couldn’t go the rest of my life without looking you in the eye and telling you that what you did didn’t break me. You raped me.”
His jaw tics.
“And I could spend hours arguing the irony of your narrative about me and your son beingdisgusting perverts, but I know I’d be wasting my time and energy. Your level of cognitive dissonance is astounding. You do know what that is, don’t you?” I can’t resist goading him a little.
His lip curls, but he doesn’t speak.
“I did consider coming back to your house that night. I imagined how good it would feel to beat you to death with my bare hands. To take out every bit of rage and shame you made me feel on your smug face, but your son needed me, so…” I shrug.
“Or you’re a coward,” he spits.
I simply smile, refusing to take his bait. “And then after you landed in here, I thought about how easy it would be to pay someone to do to you what you did to me, and what you did to Cassidy. And then I realized I’d be an idiot to waste my money on something that will happen naturally. You do know what happens to people like you in places like these, right?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, and I suspect he’s already experienced a taste of what life has in store for him. “But really, I’m here because I wanted to see you one last time. Remind myself what a pathetic waste of oxygen you are and tell you that your son and I are really fucking happy together. We are going to live an incredible life. And if you have any kind of love in your black heart for him, then you should take some comfort in the fact that he will never go another day of his life not knowing howloved he is. He’ll have everything he ever wanted. I’ll take care of him, Kyngston. I really will.”
His eye twitches, and he mutters something under his breath that I don’t catch, but I have no doubt it was some kind of homophobic slur. I truly don’t give a shit.
Having said what I came here to say, I wink at him and hang up the phone. I leave the room without a single backward glance and finally close the door on that part of my life.
King isin the kitchen when I get home, and from the incredible aroma of spices, I’d guess he’s making us curry for dinner. My stomach growls loudly.
He looks up and smiles, and I swear my knees go weak.
“Hey, baby. How was work?” he asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Any problems for me to come take care of for you?”
I give him a brief kiss. “Are you telling me you miss working at Jamestech?”
“Actually, I think I just miss those late afternoon updates I used to give you.” He flashes me a wicked grin.
I slip my arms around his waist and tug him close. “Well, you can give me any update you want right here.”
He growls. “Yeah, I can.”
“I went to see your father today,” I blurt out before I get too distracted by that look in his eyes.
He blinks rapidly. “What? Why?”
