Page 102 of King of My Heart

“There’s a name for that. It’s called daddy issues.”

We both laugh, completely forgetting what we’re meant to be doing. An hour ago, the guy had me pinned to Sam’s dining table in an apartment I’ve been forced to stay in. Under this trench coat, I’m wearing underwear that barely covers anything and leather that feels rough against my skin. But I can’t control the way Lik and I click. It reminds me too much of the way Sam and I made each other laugh when we were kids. Throwing little jabs at each other, turning our misfortune into dark humor because we thought laughing was better than crying about it.

Laughter is underrated. People forget how hard it is to genuinely make someone laugh or to have someone bring out the rumble of emotions out of your chest and into the world.

Our moment of fun is cut off by a notification on his phone. It’s sitting between us, and I can already see it’s from Sam. Our laughs crash down like a rare bird shot mid-air, too heavy with the weight of reality to keep flying freely.

He unlocks his phone with one finger. I don’t know if he wants me to see the message or simply doesn’t care, but he just leaves it on the console. My heart turns cold when it opens to a picture of a sleeping Rachel, peacefully dreaming on her sofa in a red silk robe. The text that accompanies the picture sets my blood on fire, though.

Sam: She sleeps like you. And you’ll never guess what she was watching tonight. Don’t show this to Rose unless you need to keep her in check.

My feelings of fear and resentment must be written all over my face because Lik takes the phone, locks it, and puts it in his jacket pocket. I wasn’t meant to see it. The bastards are talking about my girlfriend behind my back, and they don’t even want me to know.

I know the kind of films Rachel watches. It was blood and gore, with a frustration that it was fake. And I know how she sleeps by heart—curled into a ball against my side with a hand on my exposed back to keep me warm.

I hate that Sam thinks he can compare his boyfriend tomygirl. So he needs to shut the fuck up about my girl and the similarities she shares with him. It’s one thing to talk about her to threaten me, it’s another to take a genuine interest in her.

“She reminds him of you,” I simply say, my brain ready to spill out what I know will destroy them.

He plays with the ring piercing in his right nostril while thinking about what to say. “Just pretend you didn’t see that. Unless it helps you behave,” he huffs.

I ignore that and keep going with my trail of thoughts. “Let’s hope it doesn’t get out of hand between them.”

His brows furrow, and I relish in the confusion on his face. He looks ahead, not entertaining me, but I keep pushing. “I hope they don’t kiss,” I sigh. “I’m a jealous person, Lik.”

I don’t even need to lie about that. The only thing I know for sure is that they won’t kiss. But I truly am an insanely possessive person and not ashamed of it one bit.

“You’re crazier than I thought if you think he’d ever kiss her.”

“I don’t know,” I shrug.

I feel like I’m moving my chess pieces while Lik isn’t even aware the game has started. I’m about to checkmate him so hard he’ll feel it pierce his heart as if we were playing Wizard’s Chess. He’s going to get knocked down harder than poor Ron Weasley, and it’s all thanks to their little argument yesterday and Sam’s beautiful lie.

“You know,” I start again. “He kisses you. He kisses me. What stops him from kissing her, really? That gets me worried, not you?”

Time stops in this car. Temperatures drop, and silence covers us in a thick blanket. Lik turns his head to me so slowly I feel like it’ll never stop, and he’ll do a 360 like possessed dolls in horror films.

He looks so handsome tonight, which spurred the idea to put myself between him and Sam: the undeniable fact that I find him incredibly attractive, and it wouldn’t even be that hard to do it.

He has everything I’ve ever loved in men and women: the softness, the elegance, the intelligence, and the sensibility of a beautiful woman. Along with the roughness, the sharpness, and the perspicacity of a handsome man.

He is a mix of all my vices in one. His voice feels like honey when he talks. It’s silk when it travels through the air, and someone so strong shouldn’t have such a soothing voice. But not now, not tonight.

“What?” he seethes. No, right now, he sounds like he swallowed shards of glass and is ready to spit them back in my face.

“What?” I repeat, a hint of fear in my voice, scarcely covered by the pretense of confusion.

I’m currently sitting next to a hidden force of darkness that he seems to barely control. The funny, witty, and smart-mouth man who has been around me in the last couple of months is drowning under his sharp suit. A black button-up shirt, a black waistcoat, a black suit, and a black tie. And as night swallows us and coldness fills us up, there is only one color his eyes turn.

Black.

He has a thin golden chain attached to the button of his waistcoat and going into the pocket of it. I don’t know what’s attached to it, hidden in the pocket, but all of a sudden, I can’t stop focusing on it.

Something is telling me Lik has gone. That the guy Sam keeps callingKillhas surfaced and I should stop now. But, I’ve gone this far, and this is my chance to destroy Sam and find my freedom again, to keep Rachel safe. I can’t stop now.

“He kissed me.”

I had a whole monologue planned. I was going to tell him all that happened the day I got kidnapped. How Sam had kissed me before telling me he had a boyfriend. That he and I were always meant to be, and Lik had no chance of ruining that. That he only used him as a failed attempt to put something between us.

---