Page 43 of Break a King (Five Kings 3)

Lexi

He has destroyed me and doesn’t even know it. It’s not easy to open up and reveal the darkest part of my soul. He thinks that just because he revealed his own childhood and what made him so cold, it will be easy for me. It’s not. Not even close, and I’m struggling to deal with this situation.

He couldn’t have been more attentive, loving, or made me feel so safe, but I can’t possibly tell him something I can’t even admit to myself. My demons are circling and I hear their cries because I’m the one who put them there.

Reaching for the bottle, I pour a huge glass of whiskey and hear, “Make that two.”

I splash some into a glass and turn, and just seeing the determination in his eyes makes me swallow—hard.

He approaches like a magnificent warrior and the fact we are both naked strikes me as fitting somehow. There is nothing to hide behind. Right at this moment we are two human beings insanely attracted to one another. Is that all this is? I will only know for sure if I open up a little of my soul to the man who demands it without consequence.

Sighing, I stand before the window and gaze out at the night sky, glad we are so high up because I need to see the blackness. I need to see nothing for this story to be told because it’s like living in a dark space in my mind most of the time.

“I killed my parents.”

I state the simple fact and hope that’s enough to have him backing away in horror.

For a moment there’s silence and then I hear a deep, “I’m guessing they deserved it.”

“No, actually they didn’t deserve any of it?”

“I’m sure you have a good reason, then. Maybe you should tell me what that was.”

Images of my parents swim before my blurred vision, and I can’t dodge the pain that comes back to haunt me. For a moment I battle hard against the wave that threatens to drown me, and as I feel Hunter’s arms wrap around me from behind, it takes all of my self-control not to come apart.

“It will help to talk it through and this is coming from a man who fired his shrink, three times.”

Just imagining him doing that makes me laugh a little, and his hold tightens around me.

“So, baby, if you like, I’ll play the shrink and everything that you tell me will be kept locked inside my heart in a box marked delete.”

Can I tell him? It feels as if it would be good to tell someone at least. Maybe I owe it to my parents to let someone else be the judge of what I’ve done.

Sighing, I sink back against him and say in a whisper, “I wasn’t kidding when I said we lived in a trailer park.”

“I guessed that already.”

“Well, we had no money, that kind of goes with the territory and both Chase, my brother and me, were brought up not to expect anything. Our parents tried but they couldn’t give us much except love when they weren’t stoned out of their minds, and we both learned to rely solely on each other. We found our own food, our own clothes and tried to put ourselves through school because our parents spent most of their time stoned or out dealing drugs. Sometimes they ended up in a cell for the night, sometimes rehab but nothing ever seemed to work.”

“Didn’t the authorities step in and place you both with a family that could look after you?”

Hunter sounds horrified and I laugh. “We always anticipated that happening and ran away. Chase always knew where to take me, where it would be safe. He told me it was likely we’d be separated and I was never ok with that, so we did what we needed to survive. When the teachers started asking questions and making noises about social care, we took off and never went back. Instead, Chase stole books and the odd cell phone so we could look stuff up online and we kind of taught ourselves. You see, Hunter, we learned hard lessons living under the radar. We learned how to survive and it’s only because Chase was so determined to keep us together, we survived at all.”

“What about your parents, what happened to them?”

I stiffen up at the memory and picture my poor, foolish, misguided, drug-addicted parents and say huskily, “They were used as drug dealers, drug runners and were paid in the goods. Heroin mainly, but anything they could get their hands on. Mom lost her looks, her dignity, and her sense of responsibility. Dad was much the same, and it was like witnessing the walking dead. The night it happened, they were in a bad way. It was a rare night we were all home together. Actually, it was my birthday.”

A lone tear falls, which I wipe angrily away because I will always associate the day my mom gave me life with the day I ended hers.

“We were trying to make something of it. Chase had managed to steal a cake from somewhere and even my parents understood the significance. Despite everything, it was a happy time. We tried to make the most of it because the next day Chase had arranged for us to head out of town. He heard of a job going we could both use that included accommodation. Fruit picking can you believe, but to us it was like winning the lottery. We were excited and things seemed to be going our way for once and then they arrived.”

“Who?”

Hunter sounds angry and I get why, it’s not a fairy story and he is probably angry about how we lived our lives.

“My parent’s dealers. There were two of them. Large angry men who burst into the trailer with their guns pointed at our heads. They grabbed hold of me and Chase before we even knew what was happening and the terror in my parent’s eyes told me everything I needed to know. They told them they had come for payment because they had stolen something of theirs and wanted it back. As it turned out, my parents had double crossed them and given the money to a rival dealer in return for even more drugs. It was an impossible situation, and those men weren’t ones to listen.”

Taking a deep breath, I detach my heart from my mind and say blankly, “They shot my mom in the leg, the kneecap to be precise and when my father went to help, they did the same to him. They told them they were taking us as payment. I would be put to work as a prostitute, chained to a bed and raped on repeat most days, and Chase would be gutted alive like a pig if he refused to join their operation. My parents were a mess, Hunter. They were high on drugs and coming down hard. Their pain was almost tangible as the screams echoed around us, and for every scream that tore from their lips, another bullet found its mark. Then they put a gun to Chase’s head and told me to finish my parents off. If I didn’t, I would watch my brother be cut open and his heart ripped out, still beating. They looked as if they almost wanted it that way, and I didn’t doubt for a second they meant business. “

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