Page 101 of Played
Lisa chuckles. “How is my favorite patient?”
“She’s fucking adorable,” Conor says proudly. “But she’s addicted to carbs and sugar, and she claims the baby needs them, so…”
Shane smirks. “And even if they didn’t, we’d get them for her anyway.”
Conor smiles back. “True.”
King’s eyes are shuttering closed, and I usher everyone from the room. After offering another round of gratitude to Dr. Lisa and the Ryan brothers, I show them out. As soon as they’re gone, the full events of the evening crash into me like a tsunami, and I double over, my hands on my knees as I struggle to catch my breath.
King in that dark, cold basement. Chained like a dog. His chattering teeth. His bloody face. The fear I would lose him. How close I came to ending his father’s life.
Once the vise around my heart and lungs eases, I stand tall and suck in a deep, calming breath.
He’s okay. We’re okay. Nothing can touch us here.
Chapter
Fifty
MASON
“Mase?” King’s raspy voice rouses me from the fitful slumber I fell into. I must have watched him sleep for hours before I dozed off myself.
His hand grasps for mine, and I link our fingers together. “I’m here, mi rey. You need anything? Water?” I check the clock on the nightstand and see it’s a little after six a.m. “You can’t have any pain meds until eight.”
He rolls onto his side. “I don’t need anything. I’m sorry I woke you.”
I rest my palm on his cheek, and I’m relieved to feel his skin soft and warm. I’ll never forget the ice-cold waxy feel of it for as long as I live. “I’m glad you woke me.”
He smiles faintly. “We never got to talk.”
“We can talk later. Rest.”
“I’d rather talk now.” The sadness in his tone makes anxiety spike in my chest. Is this the part where he tells me he can’t do this anymore?
I keep my tone even. “Okay. What shall we talk about?”
“I’m sorry about what my father did to you,” he says.
Well, that’s better than what I expected, but… “That’s not your apology to make, King. You didn’t know. I am sorry I never told you though. I didn’t want it to change the way you saw me,” I admit.
“I can understand that, but it truly doesn’t, baby. Does it change the way you see me?” His voice is so quiet and small—nothing at all like him. A fresh wave of hatred for his parents hits me. Whatever they did to make him doubt his worth is one more reason they deserve whatever is coming for them.
“No,” I answer. “Not even a little.”
His green eyes fill with tears. “Thank you for coming for me. Seems like I did need rescuing after all, huh?”
I press a kiss on his lips. “I will always come rescue you, mi rey. I’ll be there whenever you need me to be, and you never have to thank me for it.”
He turns his head and kisses the palm of my hand. “I told them I was gay. Then I told them that I was in love with you.”
“That was really fucking brave. I’m proud of you.”
He snorts. “Shouldn’t have to be brave to tell your own parents who you really are. They could have been happy that I found someone I wanted to spend my life with. Instead…” A tear runs down his cheek, and I swipe it away with my thumb.
“You want to tell me what happened?”
He nods, and I listen while he tells me the hateful things his parents said. His mother’s indifference. His father’s anger. How he discovered they were broke and desperate for money and the reason why.
