Page 54 of King of My Heart

16

SAM

Bells– The Unlikely Candidates

We both go upstairs to our ensuite to clean up. He takes longer than me, meticulously picking a new outfit while mumbling about me being a careless monster who doesn’t care about fashion.

He adds a short, fake pearl necklace to the goldChainecklace he already wears around his neck. He also has a chain locked with a small padlock that he can’t take off because I have the key to it. No one knows that ‘Sir’s toy’ is engraved on the side that rests against his skin. He picks a silk, dark blue shirt out of the walk-in closet, comes back into the bedroom, and looks into his jewelry box on his vanity, ignoring the fact that I’m waiting for him on the bed.

“Almost ready?” I raise an eyebrow as I stare at his boxers.

“Yep,” he mindlessly replies without looking at me, his focus on all the jewels he owns.

“You’re not wearing any trousers, Lik,” I huff.

“Pants,” he corrects me. It’s not like I don’t know; I choose not to lose my British side. “Have you seen my red bracelet with my Hamsa hand?”

A small smile pulls at my lips. Lik is big on being protected from the evil eye. He doesn’t understand that he has nothing to fear when the evil sleeps in his bed and fucks him regularly.

“No, love,” I tell him as I stretch and get up. My back cracks and my knees feel the weight of my body. “Just grab another color and hurry up.” He has about ten of those things.

“No, I need the red one,” he grumbles back. “I think I lost it last time Kill visited us.”

“You mean last time you went on a killing rampage,” I scoff. He shoots me a threatening look, and it makes me laugh.

He likes to believeKillis his alter ego. He likes forgetting that it’s just him completely losing control and letting his anger take over. Lik is an outgoing, bubbly, and funny gay guy who loves fashion and being dominated by strong men. Kill is a killing machine. A tornado that destroys everything in its way.

He’s never had the means to see a doctor about it and get diagnosed with anything, and even if I’ve now offered to pay for him to, he prefers denial. He prefers his superstitions, astrology, and religions, and that’s okay with me. He can deal with his mind however he wants, as long as I can be there to help when he needs it.

I get a text from Mattock saying he’s arriving here and put my phone back in my pocket. “I’ll wait downstairs,” I tell Lik.

Mattock fucked up, and he’s on my shit list. It’s not a very long list. It usually goes between zero and one…then back to zero.

I meet Mattock by my front door and go out on the porch instead of letting him in. He carries himself like a weak man facing a strong one. His face is twisted with regret, his gaze never daring to reach mine. He wipes his hands on his t-shirt before letting them hang by his side, his fingers tapping against his worn-out jeans.

“Are you not letting me in, man?”

Man.The fact that he thinks he can address me as a friend makes me want to crush his windpipes in a one-handed grip.

When I don’t reply or make any gesture indicating I would let him inside my house, he lets out an awkward, scared chuckle.

“Look, I know it wasn’t the deal, but it’s not like I fucked your trust or anything.”

As if I would ever put my trust in him. I put a cigarette between my lips and focus my gaze on the tip as I light it up. My silence makes him uncomfortable.

“Sam, man, let’s sort this out.” He reaches for my shoulder, attempting to pat it like I’m his mate. I avoid his touch and look back at him as I inhale smoke and put my lighter back in my pocket. I grab my cigarette between my index and middle fingers. My gaze is locked on his so hard that he shrinks before me.

“I-I shouldn’t have touched her, man,” he stutters. “You said not to. I shouldn’t have. I didn’t realize it was a deal-breaker.”

I inhale and exhale smoke a few times, watching him struggle to stand on his own two legs.

“She’s quite irresistible, isn’t she?” I finally say.

Visions of him behind Rose, blocking her between the window and his body with his hand down her jeans, flash in front of my eyes. Her choked whimper when he touched her resonates in my ears.

“She is, man, she is. You can understand why I fucked with the plan. You see it too.”

My mother used to tell me something to help me understand the world, to help me understand my dad’s actions, and why nothing made sense in my life.

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